The Exodus Conspiracy

by Paul Mannering

  “You have ruined everything!” Aaron screamed. “You have damned our people to eternal slavery!”

  “The Lord will set our people free. I must go and pray,” Moses pulled himself up and walked out of the factory.

  *

  Moses was waiting for Aaron when he returned the next morning. “Aaron, we m-must warn Pharaoh! If he d-does not agree to the Lord’s d-demands, a great tragedy will b-b-befall the p-people of Khem!”

  “You heard Pharaoh’s words, if we return to his presence, he will kill us.”

  “B-but if we do nothing! Thousands of his p-people will die!” Moses grabbed Aaron by the shoulders and shook him. “God has w-warned me that he will k-k-kill the firstborn children of Khem if Pharaoh does not let our p-people go!”

  “And you say my plan to poison their bread and slay Khemites in their tens of thousands was evil?” Aaron almost sneered at Moses. “Why did God not allow our plan to go ahead?”

  “This is the Lord’s will. It will st-strike at Pharaoh’s heart,” Moses did not smile.

  “And when will this plague strike?”

  “At midnight tonight…”

  “Time for us to drink some more wine then,” Aaron said and clapped his brother on the shoulder. For all his words, Aaron drank little and Moses not at all. They gathered the agents of the conspiracy and Moses told them of his latest vision from God. Most of those gathered were not impressed. They had worked too hard and risked too much to place their faith in the stammering of a sheptech who called himself God’s prophet.

  “We m-m-m-must ma-ma-mark the houses of the J-jews. Protect them from G-god’s wrath,” Moses warned.

  “And how will we do that?” the agent David asked.

  “W-with a si-sign of blood ab-above the door.” Moses demonstrated the sign that should be painted on the houses of the Israelites.

  “Go now brothers, spread the word among our people. Tell them to pray and avoid Khemite bread until tomorrow. We can’t be too careful.”

  The agents of the conspiracy departed, Moses and Aaron spent the day in silent prayer and meditation until the clock bells announced the hour of midnight.

  A shout went up from a house in the noble suburbs of the city. The shouts of alarm spread through the streets, mothers and fathers spilled out into the streets, the limp bodies of their first born children cradled in their arms.

  “We m-must go to Pharaoh now,” Moses told his brother.

  “He will have us executed,” Aaron warned.

  “He w-will be too d-distraught to do-do anything b-but to agree to the L-lord’s demands.”

  The two Israelites stepped out into the streets. A crowd of Jews had gathered, and as they marched towards the palace, their numbers swelled until every Israelite in Khem hurried through the streets after the two prophets. Once again they saw death and grief etched on every Khemite face. No house had been spared, and the wails of anguish created a chorus that dimmed the roar of the city’s eternal machine heart beating.

  The guards had abandoned their posts at the palace. Only the golems, sentinels without feeling or emotion, stood ready to fend off invaders. Aaron and Moses entered the audience chamber with its grand throne and marble floors. The hall was deserted, only Pharaoh’s grand mask lay abandoned on the floor. Aaron crouched down and peered inside, “His head isn’t inside,” he reported.

  A soft weeping reached their ears, moving carefully Aaron and Moses crept through an open doorway. A woman on her knees cradled the sprawled form of a golden boy. She looked up as they approached.

  “Milady Nefteri,” Moses said with a bow. “We s-seek an au-audience with Pharaoh.”

  “I know who you are!” her voice a grief-stricken cry. “For his pride you have killed my son!”

  “Many sons have died tonight Princess. Only Pharaoh can end the suffering of your people. Tell him to release the children of Yahweh, our flocks and our families. He will shower us with gold and silver and we shall leave the land of Khem.”

  “I don’t care!” Nefteri shrieked, the color on her face streaking with the wash of tears. “Take all you want! Just leave us in peace!”

  The mob of Israelites moved through the palace, they broke down the doors to the treasury and took gold and silver, fine silks and gems. They loaded pack animals and their children on to horses, donkeys, oxen and camels. A great procession began to leave the city before dawn. The people afraid that Pharaoh would come to his senses and they would be hunted down by his army.

  “Aaron! Aaron!” a boy came pushing through the crowd in the audience chamber.

  “What is it lad?”

  “I am Amon of Goshen, my father sends word. You sent him to find a man.”

  “What man? What are you talking about?” Aaron pulled the road-dusty boy to one side.

  “My father, you instructed him to find a sheptech on a mountain, and deliver some kind of message?”

  Understanding dawned on Aaron’s face. “Yes, your father did a great job. It all went according to plan.”

  “No,” the boy shook his head, “My father begs your forgiveness. He could not find the man you seek. He could not get the machine to work.”

  “But the burning bush… the voice…” Aaron said.

  “Please forgive my father, he searched all the mountains and could not find this Moses you spoke of.”

  Aaron nodded, a strange sense of shock settling on his shoulders. He slipped the boy a silver coin and sent him on his way.

  In the hours after dawn Aaron and Moses stood by, watching their people stream out through the gates and away from slavery.

  “We have done God’s work,” Moses said, his voice strong and clear.

  “Amen brother, Amen,” Aaron agreed.