by Zulu, Arthur
Airport officials in Beijing had been following the route of the plane since it entered China’s airspace. They knew the journey would terminate at Yangtze River. The rescue team comprising air force and naval officials, swimmers and divers, Red Cross, and medical personnel, took off in helicopters.
Within moments after the crash, rescue officials in parachutes were dropping from the sky into the water. And choppers were landing on the basin.
The scene was chaotic. There were cries for help everywhere. A fever- pitch rescue effort began.
Major Eagle-Eye was woken up in the morning by CNN’s breaking news: “Special Chinese airplane carrying diplomats crashes in Yangtze River. All twenty-five passengers miraculously survive.”
Was this not the airplane that just left JFK? he asked himself. He was not, however, concerned about the accident. What interested him was the total number of passengers. CNN lied. There were twenty-three passengers in that aircraft.
He would have to crosscheck with the newspapers first. He had been watching CNN over the years and he had not once faulted their report. That was why he recommended the station to his workers.
Just then, the vendor brought in the newspapers. He immediately grabbed the New York Times and read the headline: “Twenty-five Survive Yangtze Crash.”
So it was true: There were twenty-five passengers! He did not bother to read the details. He picked his phone. He was calling the duty officer the previous day.
“Yes, I am already on duty, sir.”
“Good. Did you hear the breaking news?” Eagle-Eye asked.
He could not have missed that. He and others had just been promoted.
“Yes, sir. But they were twenty-three on record, not twenty-five. It is in the book. I signed it.”
“So who made it twenty-five?”
“The two people in the box, sir.”
Bingo! Eagle-Eye was done with him. He was now calling someone else.
“Yes, Maj. Eagle-Eye, anything again?”
“Two people escaped to China through JFK,” he said.
“And you didn’t catch them?”
“Remember Madam Secretary, the president said, ‘Let them go!’” He was reading from his notebook.
“You are referring to the Chinese diplomatic crate?”
“Yes, Madam Secretary, and today’s breaking news.”
The Secretary of State did not know what to think.
“What’s your evidence?” she now asked.
“We had twenty-three on record but twenty-five survived the crash.”
“All right. The CIA will investigate. You are doing a good job Maj. Eagle-Eye. We will find out who those two are. But remember we are looking for one person.”
“I know, Madam Secretary.”
He was not happy. He did not feel like going to work that day. Washingtonians only know politics and diplomacy. He shook his head.
They do not know math in Washington.
“How is his condition now?” asked Mr. Yong.
“It’s still critical at the moment,” replied the doctor. “But we are treating the wounds as you can see.”
“Is he able to talk?” the security chief asked the doctor.
“He hasn’t spoken a word. However, we are doing our best. Don’t worry, sir. He might live.”
That assurance was not enough for Bo Yong. He needed to be categorically sure that Professor Muse would live to interpret the Methuselah poem. That was why they took all the risks to bring him to China. Now, nobody was sure of anything. America should not get this tree first.
Nobody should.
He and the other visiting officials with him moved to see the other victims who were lying on their various sick beds. Cheung, the pilots, and the air hostesses were fast recovering. The detectives had wounds but most of them had no serious injury, just being treated for shocks.
All the plane crash victims were rushed to the intensive care unit of this specialist hospital after their rescue. A dozen specialist doctors were in attendance. It was amazing that all survived.
One reason for the miracle was that the aircraft had split horizontally before crashing into the river so that all the passengers were floating on the water when they were rescued.
Another factor was that help came on time. The fishermen started the initial rescue effort before the government rescue team flew in from Beijing.
Besides, parts of the river basin where the plane crashed were shallow. So the rescuers did not have to contend with water depths.
The passengers mostly had cuts and burns, but Professor Muse had serious surface wounds all over his body.
Yong and other officials had regularly come to the hospital to visit the patients. As he was leaving today, he was asking himself two questions: Will the professor ever survive? If yes, when?
Chapter 8
Mr. Jim Hunter and his team were examining a digital map of Turkey on a hilltop. The country is surrounded by high mountains except the plateaus in the central region. However, it is East Turkey where the four rivers once rose that the team had to beam its searchlight.
It is in that Eastern Anatolian region of rugged mountains richest in lakes that the highest mountain in Turkey, Mount Ararat, stands at 5,165 meters high. The Garden of Eden must be somewhere in those group of mountains East-east of Turkey, they thought.
So they earmarked eight towns in the area for the expedition. Every mountain and forest in those places must be thoroughly investigated for this tree. The local folks, too, would have to be interviewed for direction. Sometimes the locals can be helpful. They were the ones that led to the discovery of the first stone of the Methuselah poem. Who knows—they might point the team to the second, where Eden is!
The search would begin in clockwise direction. They would first go to Kurtalan and from there to Batman. Then they would proceed to Diyarbakir and hit Elazig.
If they didn’t find anything, they would continue to Erzincan and connect Erzurum. Finding nothing, they would go over to Mus and end in Tatvan.
One good thing about the adventure was that most of the eight towns were linked by railway line. So they would travel by train where they would gossip with local travelers about Eden. They would pose as American tourists. Hungry tourist guides can take them anywhere for dollars.
Hunter was looking positive.
“We will get there,” he told his team members, pointing to the circle of towns on the map.
The Chinese surveillance satellite took a photo.
The Americans folded the map and went exploring the hill, happily drinking and chatting.
Mr. Yong was holding an urgent meeting in his office with his security officials. They didn’t know how long it would take Cheung, the professor, and others to recover and tell them about the poem and the direction of Eden.
It was demanding, therefore, that they meet, consider the evidence they had so far, and have a B plan in place. Just in case the professor dies.
The president did not like the turn of events and wanted them to come up with an idea.
They already had the poem Cheung sent them from Washington. So they took a look at it:
Yet, the tree and the garden remain, as God decreed at the beginnin’.
The Flood came and swept the tree of life away, even Eden.
All of them were examining their copies.
“This is the Methuselah poem we have been looking for now in your hands. The poem that points to Eden,” said Yong to his officers.
“So is this what the professor calls Hebrew prosody?” asked one of them.
“Yes, you are right. Cheung noted it in his secret memo. Does the poem make sense to anymore?” asked Yong
“I don’t understand it, sir,” said one.
“Neither me, sir,” said another.
“We need a key and the sick American professor has it, sir,” another one added.
“Oracular is in omega. That’s the magic word he has to tell us,” said Yong. “You can see in Cheung’s mem
o that it is the only thing our women couldn’t get from him.”
“Now that we have him, let’s hope he gets better and tell us what it means, sir,” said another officer.
“Well said, let’s look at these satellite images then. Maybe, they can help. As you can see, they show American presence in Turkey. Could it be where Eden finally is?” asked Yong circulating the photos.
The security officials examined the pictures.
“I see their leader pointing to a large map while others look on, sir,” one of them said.
“Yes, he was indicating a cluster of towns East-east of Turkey,” completed Yong.
“And here, sir, they are searching the forest and mountains of Kurtalan,” said one.
“In this picture, I see them in Batman, sir.”
“That’s right. And all these are recent pictures. They seem to be going clockwise,” Yong said.
“Sir, I don’t think we have to worry. It seems that they don’t know where they are going. They are not following any direction. The poem isn’t their guide. I think we have to wait for the professor to recover. The Americans are not near Eden.”
“That was what I thought too when I first saw the images. Americans are just groping in Turkey. Their professor will point us straight,” Yong said concluding the meeting.
What a sea of heads! The Chinese intelligence office headquarters was full. They had come to see and hear from Professor Muse – the only man who knows the location of Eden by just interpreting a two-line poem. He and others had now fully recovered and had been discharged from the hospital.
The professor was sitting between his two female friends. (They were well-dressed now.) This was an interesting movie, he thought. They had been nice to him. In fact, his house was more lavishly furnished than his quarters in Washington. He had really been treated like a king. All because of a poem – oh, the tree of life!
“We are sorry about what you passed through, professor,” Mr. Yong began. “We are, however, happy that you all came out alive.”
Professor Muse did not think there was need for windy introduction and niceties. He knew what they had brought him for. Let them say it. He would give them answers. He wouldn’t betray America unless the Chinese had the right poem. Do they?
“Thank you, sir. I am happy to be alive and thank you for taking very good care of me,” he replied.
“Your happiness is our concern, professor. We don’t mean to harm you. Rather, we need a little explanation. Look at this,” Yong said, giving him a paper containing the poem.
Professor Muse read it:
Yet, the tree and the garden remain, as God decreed at the beginnin’.
The Flood came and swept the tree of life away, even Eden.
Thank Goodness, they have the wrong version!
“I know the poem,” he said.
“Good! We are interested in it. What does the Methuselah poem mean?” asked Yong.
“Remember what we told you on the plane,” said one of the ladies.
“He means the oracular. What is the oracular of the poem?” the other lady added.
Professor Muse now hated the ladies the more.
“The oracular is in omega,” he replied.
“What does that mean?” asked Yong.
“The meaning of the poem is in the last line,” he answered.
“Do you mean that Eden and the tree of life have been swept away?” asked one of the women.
“That is what the poem is saying,” he answered.
They all looked at one another.
“Is that what you told the American government?” asked Yong.
“Yes, it’s the same poem, same interpretation. I told them the Flood swept Eden away,” he lied.
Why shouldn’t he? Why should he tell them the truth and give an unkind cut to motherland? Imagine these Chinese agents deceived and captured him and put him in a box like a bird. Add to the disappointment that he didn’t sleep with any of these women as he had planned with Cramwell. And they want honesty? Never!
“But what are the Americans doing in Turkey?” asked Yong.
“Are they in Turkey? I don’t know. It is my job to interpret the poem and the government’s duty to do as they please,” Professor Muse replied.
The Chinese seemed satisfied. Americans were just wandering aimlessly in Turkey.
“Is there any other thing you want us to ask him?” Yong said to Cheung, sitting next to him.
“No, I think we have heard the most important thing there is to know.”
Dr. Know-Little raised up his hand.
“All right. Dr. Know-Little, what have you to say?” asked Yong.
“Is Inquisition Nemesis a book?” he asked.
“Yes, the Holy Bible,” replied Muse.
“I never knew that. What is Mother Muse 1:2?”
“That is the Bible book of Ecclesiastes chapter 1 verse 2.”
“Professor Muse, I am really fascinated by your Harvard language. I went to Cambridge University in England and learnt no such thing. Is it taught in Harvard?”
“Thank you Dr. Know-Little. Harvardspeak isn’t taught in Harvard. We developed it to solve riddles like the Methuselah poem.”
There was a general laughter.
“We thank you Professor Muse. You may now retire,” Yong said happily shaking his hand.
Professor Muse rose and was escorted to his residence by the two ladies. He kept an unsmiling visage, disdainful of his escorts as ever. And they keep following me!
“Which way do we now go?” asked Yong after they had left.
“I think I agree with the interpretation. Our scientists had always said that Eden is in the Pacific. If it drifted, they said, it went westward. We should search the Pacific Islands, sir,” said Cheung.
“Yes, to the Pacific we must go!” concluded Yong.
It was tempting to believe that Iran, Cuba, and North Korea kidnapped the American poet. After all, they are the rogue states, the secretive communist regimes, the antagonists of the U.S., while two of them have been fingered for producing weapons of mass destruction.
“I am yet to believe that these countries did this, though we don’t have any evidence to the contrary at present,” said President Godsend. He was sitting in the Oval Office at the White House with the U.S. Secretary of State and U.S. ambassador to the U.N.
“We will make our case though at the General Assembly,” the president continued.
“We don’t need the CIA to tell us that these rogue nations kidnapped Professor Muse, Mr. President. I know they did. The three are birds of a feather,” said the ambassador.
“I agree with Mr. Ambassador. Iran, North Korea, and Cuba as we know are renegade and secretive regimes, and except for Cuba are state sponsors of terrorism, according to our official list,” added the Secretary. “Yet, how they got wind of what the professor was working on is what baffles me. Because I do know that our project must be the only motive.”
“They must have discovered through a leaked diplomatic cable,” said the president.
“So who leaked the secret to them?” asked the president.
“I am not able to tell. Let’s punish these regimes first, then the truth will come out later,” the ambassador replied.
“Iraq or Turkey would have been more to the purpose, being home to the rivers where the biblical Garden of Eden was supposed to be. But Turkey is our friend and Iraq has been tamed,” said the president. “That is what leaves me confused.”
“We will resort to diplomacy first, then threat, Mr. President. These countries are pariahs, axis of evil, and we know how to handle them,” the ambassador said.
“My concern as the Secretary of State is what their allies, Russia and China, would say,” said the Secretary.
The president laughed.
“What would they say?” asked the ambassador. “They would only rant and rave as usual.”
“Russia is rising, we know,” said the president. “But ever since we schooled our fri
end to school them on democracy and the Soviet Union broke into fifteen weak quarreling republics in December 1991, they have not been a force to reckon with us. This is not to mention the fact that we have both reduced our stockpiles of nuclear weapons, though we are still in the lead. So who cares about Russia?”
“And chances are that the country might still split,” said the ambassador. There was more laughter. “Let’s put aside Russia’s perestroika and their pseudo democracies, Mr. President, the Cold War days are gone forever.”
“Then let’s talk about China. What would they say when we start dealing with their ally North Korea?” asked the Secretary.
“Of course China is growing economically too; it’s a surprise they overtook Japan. They seem to be all over Africa and some other developing countries playing Big Brother. But the truth is that shout as they may, they are nowhere militarily,” said the president.
“Not at all, let them conquer space first as we did before they come down to talk to us,” added the ambassador.
The Secretary nodded, and they all laughed again.
It was a rowdy and stormy session at the meeting of the General Assembly of the United Nations. The emergency meeting had been at the instance of the United States.
The topic for discussion was the abduction of Professor Muse, an American Nobel laureate, on American soil by North Korea, Iran, and Cuba.
The United States’ ambassador to the UN was breathing fire, saying that the action of the countries should first be condemned to be followed by sanctions, with war as an option.
But the ambassadors of the three nations, one by one, denied the act, and dared America to prove it. However, the United States had no other proof than the twenty diplomatic passports found at Citizens.
The ambassadors of the three countries contested the evidence saying that diplomatic terrorism was the stock in trade of Israel, and that when it comes to that, America should look to Israel.
This didn’t go down favorably with the Israeli ambassador, who vehemently denied involvement in the kidnap and the country’s profiling as a terrorist state.
In fact, the ambassador said that going by antecedent, Russia would have done it. Their spies had been caught in the United States with cloned foreign passports.
