The Tombs of Eden

by Rick Jones

  “You mean armed protection?”

  “It’s a simple matter of prudence,” he said.

  “Noah, I’ve never touched a gun in my life.”

  “They scare me to death as well,” he said. “But in this case, I believe it would serve to better our chances of survival. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  She gave him a nonplussed look. “Noah, this is a high-priority expedition that has to be kept close to the vest. We can’t afford to let others to know the whereabouts of Eden, because it only heightens the probability that they may appropriate the region and compromise the site. This was my father’s biggest fear, you know that.”

  “Do you see another way, then?” he asked patiently. “Please keep in mind that an entire team has been terminated by whatever resides within the temple. We will not be alone. And without protection, we may not stand a chance.”

  Alyssa knew that he was right. “We need to keep this as covert as possible.”

  “I understand.”

  “So what do you suggest?”

  “I will employ a team,” he said. “And have them here within a day.”

  She cocked her head questioningly. “How would you know people like that?”

  “In my walk of life,” he said, smiling his paternal smile she had seen so many times over the years, “you have to be ready for all contingencies. They will not need to know the location until we arrive there. I believe that will ease your concern of possible appropriation on their part should we keep them in the dark, yes?”

  “They’re to understand, Noah, that I’m the expedition lead. Not their commander.”

  “If they’re paid accordingly, then I see no problems.”

  Still, she was on edge. She knew that getting the proper licensing in foreign countries meant you sometimes had to grease a few political palms. But this was something different. She’d be paying mercenaries with funds from the AIAA coffer. Or so she thought.

  “All right,” she finally said. “Do what you have to do, Noah.”

  “Of course, my dear.”

  “I’ll assemble a team for the expedition,” she added. “People of my choosing.”

  “And I’ll gather the goods and make the preparations. We should be ready to go in two days, yes?”

  “Two days,” she confirmed.

  Noah nodded. But before he turned to leave, he spoke to her once more. “A lesson,” he suggested, “in practicality.”

  She loved this. It was always something her father did to develop deductive reasoning. It was a learning tool. “I’m ready.”

  Noah raised a finger, using it the same way a maestro would direct his players with a baton. “A man is asked to perform a task,” he began. “He is told by the administrator to sit in a bathtub filled with water. He is then given three items: a spoon, a teacup, and a bucket, and is told to empty the bathtub with the least amount of effort. What should he do?”

  Her smile flourished. Most people would answer “use the bucket,” since it’s bigger than the spoon and teacup. But the answer was simpler. “The least amount of effort to empty the tub,” she said, “would be to pull the plug.” In other words, genius was always in simplicity.

  “Very good,” he told her. “I’ll catch up with you later, my dear.”

  “Bye, Noah.”

  After he left, her mind drifted to thoughts that she was about to follow in her father’s footsteps. On the desk sat a small photo of the two of them, smiling. It was a recent picture of the day they arrived together at the Göbekli Tepe, taken no more than three weeks ago.

  How quickly, she thought, someone you love, someone so close to you, can be here one moment and gone the next. She traced the tip of her finger lovingly over the image of her father, missing him deeply, and then she allowed a single tear to slip from the corner of her eye.

  Collecting herself, she turned to the sheets that Noah gave her, and began to read.

  CHAPTER TEN

  First Journal Entry (Encrypted)

  Let me begin this preamble by stating that I used the allusions mentioned in the Book of Genesis, the Torah, the Koran, and all the Göbekli cuneiforms as guides of reference as they relate to the geographical location of {Edin}, putting {Edin} at the {headwaters} of the four rivers that include the Tigris, Euphrates, Pishon and Gihon. Though the Pishon and Gihon are speculated to have been in the southeast of Turkey rather than northern Iraq, it is now believed that these tributaries dried up over several millennia, which would place {Edin} in Turkey rather than in Iraq, Africa or the Persian Gulf. By using these references as orientation points, I was able to triangulate a site in Turkey using the coordinates 36° 13′ 23.88″ N, 37° 55′ 20.64″ E.

  With the use of satellite imagery and ground-penetrating radar, a most amazing discovery was made. Using those coordinates, I was able to determine a linear structure hidden beneath the sands in southeast Turkey. Without a doubt it is massive in size and construction with geometric configurations that are (not) natural features derived by Nature.

  So with the strength of this data along with my reputation, I presented a proposal to the Administrative Board at AIAA to financially back an expedition into Turkey in search of {Edin}. Not only did it take all of two days to garner complete support, but I was duly assigned the task to choose nine candidates to serve as my team.

  My daughter, Alyssa, has chosen to remain in Göbekli Tepe to piece together the history regarding the development of mankind, rather than partake in a most amazing adventure. But she has chosen responsibility over curiosity, which shows me that she possesses a great deal of fortitude to see things through.

  And for that I am truly proud.

  So barring my daughter from joining my expedition, I have chosen a team comprised of five senior archeologists from the AIAA, my apprentice and aide Montario, and three candidates from the German Archaeological Institute of Istanbul (the latter condition mandated by the Turkish government, requesting that I share mutual authority with the professorships from the Institute of Istanbul in order to receive the proper licensing).

  After weeks of preparation we began our journey to said coordinates. I, however, kept the location a secret from my team for fear of misappropriation from competing scholars. But the underlying truth is more selfish, since I want to be the one to point the finger of discovery of this site. But on the flip side, I also regard this to be my personal right.

  After reaching our debarkation point, which was seven miles from ground zero, at least according to my GPS tracker, we trekked over rocky terrain until we came upon the fringe of what appeared to be an unnatural formation. Whereas the region was entirely flat, this area was lifted as if the landscape heaved squarely upward.

  After scaling the rise, it was quite clear that it was the only such mount for as far as the eye could see. And rather than being rounded or taking on an indescribable shape, the rise was nearly perfectly square with the four sides equal in length at one-half kilometer per side, or by American standards, one-third of a mile.

  Whatever lay beneath the terrain was massive.

  By the time the sun set, we had made camp at the crown point of the rise, all of us chatting excitedly by the fire wondering what historical treasures lay beneath our feet. But it wasn’t until the following morning that we discovered a passage on the southeast side of the rise—a small opening large enough for a man to pass easily through.

  What was most disturbing; however, were the fresh tracks around the hole. Since we’re archeologists and hardly knowledgeable about the nature of beasts, we tried to determine which nocturnal creature would possess prints, which appeared to be heavily padded, with the points of its claws leaving impressions in the sand. The consensus was that it was a large cat, perhaps the cave was a refuge from the hot sun. But whatever it was, it put us on alert.

  Nevertheless, science does press on.

  After taking a lamp from Montario, I pointed it into the hole, the light penetrating perhaps thirty feet. However, at the breach of the open
ing where the sand had been blown in by desert winds, I could see walls that were black and polished as an onyx gemstone.

  So without fear of consequence as to what made those footprints around the breach, I cast aside all caution and ventured inside.

  When I stood within the warren with the opening to my back and the lamp held high, I could see that the tunnel had been fashioned into a perfect trapezoid shape, wide at the bottom and thin at the top with the walls slanting inward and upward to meet ceiling with floor. It was faultless in its geometric shape, the walls perfectly flat and completely unblemished.

  The marvel of such technology was a puzzle to me. How was it even possible to develop this tunnel thousands of years ago when the Neanderthal still walked the planet? I was so stunned I couldn’t begin to conceive anything around me as being genuine because everything appeared so surreal.

  But the most astonishing thing was the engravings on the wall above the entrance. The figures appeared to have been acid-etched into the surface of black silica, the calligraphy of four letters a combination of pre-Sumerian characters and Göbekli script.

  As I pieced them together, my heart appeared to still inside my chest, or perhaps I was just holding my breath too long as my eyes went from one letter to the next, deciphering.

  What I translated was this: α Ϯ Д Ѡ

  α, represented the letter E,

  Ϯ, the letter D,

  Д, the letter I,

  Ѡ, the letter N.

  I was literally standing upon the threshold of EDIN. And because it was such a glorious moment in my life, I didn’t realize that I had lowered myself to my knees until Montario lifted me back up.

  And as I stood there looking at the etchings with awe, my mind understood everything as I read further text: In the Land of Edin is the Garden of God, the One True Paradise.

  According to scientific conventions, the world began in about 4000 B.C., which is 8000 years after the civilization of Göbekli Tepe was created. The intricate writings found upon the pillars in Göbekli Tepe are the same found upon this wall as the Sumerian-like text clearly defines this as the temple of {Edin}. The only difference within the written configuration is that it predates the syntax of the language discovered in Göbekli Tepe. The wordage, barring archaic symbols, does bear a striking resemblance to Göbekli Tepe text, which leaves me to believe that those discovered within this temple is somewhat of a genesis language that had modified over time to become the language discovered in Göbekli Tepe. Since the writing appears to be primitive in structure but maintains some similarities to the writings discovered in Göbekli Tepe, this tells me that the script found here predates the Göbekli scripts by thousands of years, which will be clarified by carbon dating. So this place, this wonderful temple, may be the oldest existing civilization ever created, the true cradle of humanity which the ancient texts define as {Edin}, the paradise located within the juncture of the four rivers as all the religious texts have indicated.

  Therefore, in terms of sacred reference according to the Torah, the Bible and the Koran, {Edin}, or {Eden}, may be the first site of humanity.

  Dr. John Moore

  The Archaeological Institute of Ancient Antiquities

  New York, New York

  Her father, as always, wrote in cryptic language, usually in ancient prose, especially in Sumerian. Whereas it would be difficult for others to read, it came as easy to her as if the text was written in English. But the enigmatic writing was more of a learning tool for her. Whatever symbols or inscriptions she could not determine became the source of further study, requiring her to examine and discover their meanings for future readings.

  And within the first paragraph, as she knew her father would perform by using his cryptic skills, he had written down the exact coordinates to Eden.

  She set those pages aside and read on.

  #

  Second Journal Entry (Encrypted)

  It is beyond comprehension the discoveries I’ve made thus far in the warrens that appear to lead to the temple’s center. The surrounding walls appear to be constructed of black silica, giving it a polished sheen. The surfaces are entirely smooth, nothing but perfect geometrical planes that could only be rivaled by modern technology. Yet here we are, inside a temple that was created when man was still foraging for food and residing in caves. It is like comparing New York City to some obscure hutted village deep within the Amazon.

  Even more astonishing are the ancient inscriptions along the tunnel walls. The writings, the cuneiform, the raised images of the carved reliefs, were either sculpted or etched to the finest detail that would have made Michelangelo proud.

  In detail I drew the reliefs as best I could—same with the cuneiforms and inscriptions. Art was never my forte but that of my daughter’s. I certainly hope she has enough of a keen eye to decipher my renditions, since they appear to tell the chronological history of {Edin} Eden.

  Most interesting was the fonts spaced every twenty meters. Each one bears a carved relief of creatures on its silica base beneath the well of a deep basin, which I believe were mandated to hold combustible oils volatile enough to remain lit by fires to light the way. Scorched residue remains along each of the basin’s rim as evidence of the fonts’ true purposes.

  Though the discovery of the fonts and the inscriptions consumed most of our time during Day One, we soon found ourselves quite fatigued as the adrenaline dumped from our systems as quickly as it fired them up.

  So we made camp along the stretch of a long warren with darkness flanking our edges. A single lamp remained lit as we ate strips of dried beef and drank bottled water. It was enough to tide us over.

  However, as fatigued as I was, I could not sleep. So here I write beneath the feeble glow of a lamp as my team sleeps around me.

  As excited as I am about the discovery of Eden {Edin,} I can’t help wonder about the religious accounts of this Paradise—of the indications of rich fauna and indigenous creatures depicted in the carved reliefs. So far all suggestions are that this temple has been created under a canopy of utter darkness, a black-silica ceiling now sustaining inconceivable amounts of earth that has gathered over twelve thousand years.

  Was it strong enough to hold true? Sometimes I wonder, often catching myself looking ceilingward, telling myself that the silica has so far stood the test of time. Still, I hear noises like the creak of a board settling in an old house or a perhaps gentle wind passing through the eaves and playing a song. But these noises are different. They sound like metered tapping. Like Morse code, very discernible.

  And this allows me to believe that we are not alone.

  As I look around, I see my comrades asleep and unaware, which is good, since the tapping is sometimes close, other times distant, but always moving.

  Whatever else is in Eden {Edin}, I hope it is much more afraid of us as I am of it.

  Dr. John Moore

  The Archaeological Institute of Ancient Antiquities

  New York, New York

  #

  Third Journal Entry (Encrypted)

  It appears that during my entries, I was finally overcome with fatigue and fell asleep with pen and journal in hand. It wasn’t until morning (but who can tell since there is no light?) when a student shook me awake, startling me, mentioning that a team member was missing from the ranks.

  Sure enough, it was discovered that a leading professor from the Istanbul Institute was gone, his bedroll missing from the fringe of light where he had bedded down the night before, saying the lamp would keep him awake since he was sensitive to the light.

  Last night, as I was writing in my journal, I would often look to see the members sleeping fitfully, including Professor Ahmet Osman, whose chest rose and fell with the comfort of rest.

  This morning, however, he was gone. And so was his bedroll.

  Needless to say, a search was summarily undertaken to the question as to why someone would vacate his post after partaking in such a discovery. There were no answers, of course, only f
oolish guesses that were simply far reaching, given the man’s character.

  And to deepen the mystery even further, after we had taken stock of our items, it appears that Professor Osman, should he have resigned from the premise, did so without a lamp, leaving him to wander in impenetrable darkness.

  Weighted down with our own lamps, we broke up into teams of three, and ventured into three separate tunnels that led inward toward the temple’s center with the intention of meeting back at the bedding site in an hour’s time; thirty minutes out, thirty minutes back.

  My team, which consisted of Professor Gedik Yiğit, an aged and affable man, and a grad student by the name of Marc Weatherby, took a tunnel with myself taking the lead and Professor Yiğit bringing up the rear.

  To say the least I found myself quite fascinated with the cuneiform along the walls, the detail of their creations stunningly incredible, as if the carved bas-reliefs had been chipped by the skilled hands of Michelangelo with every remarkable aspect bearing the detailed quality of his David. The muscle tone, the curvatures, every aspect of man and creature depicted by these carvings could only have been done by lost technology that I couldn’t even begin to comprehend, but which existed more than twelve thousand years ago.

  Embarrassing enough, as I took a moment to study these carvings by holding a lamp to the groupings, I was reminded by a constant but gentle urging by Mr. Weatherby to press on with a mild goading by his hand as a reminder that we were looking for Professor Osman.

  There would be time later to catalogue these bas-reliefs carvings for further study.

  So we pressed on with one tunnel appearing as much as another, with one font looking as much as the next. But my sense of direction has always been keen so my confidence of getting back in timely fashion was constant, whereas I could see by the faces of my team members that they did not share my attitude of self-reliance.

  I could only smile at this as my internal compass told me that we were working our way toward the center of (Eden), where I took notice of the pre-Sumerian inscriptions noting the cryptic doomsday scenarios of entering certain parts of the temple at the cost of human life. Whether these inscriptions are warnings of trespassing into chambers akin to the warnings inside Egyptian pyramids, would have to be determined with further study of the symbols.