He then struck the man on the left with his fist, and blood gushed as the man staggered backward, holding his hands to his shattered nose .
The man in front began to reach for his dagger. Shem saw the move and started drawing his sword, but they were jammed too close together for him to use it effectively, so he jabbed the sword handle into the man's mouth, sending fragments of teeth into the air. There was a cry of pain .
The three men picked themselves up, cursing, and prepared to attack, when they saw the glittering steel in Shem's hand. The thought of facing an angry husband wielding one of Tubal-cain's singing swords was too much. They quickly ran back to the market and disappeared into the crowd .
Shem held Achsah, who was crying uncontrollably. He still clutched the sword and kept one eye on the staring bystanders. He was filled with anger. "Let the flood come , O Lord," he said to himself, "so we do not have to endure such things any longer."
Japheth was walking on the roof of the ark when it happened .
Suddenly, in the middle of the morning, it was starting to get dark. Turning around, he gasped. The entire eastern sky was filled with a vast flock of birds, like a huge locust swarm blocking the sun .
"Where are they going?" he wondered. Then the first birds started landing on the ark. First a lark, then an egret, a bright blue parakeet, a mourning dove. Soon they covered the roof, birds of every size and shape and color .
Japheth was speechless; he couldn't move. He could only stare at the strange sight. Birds he couldn't even put a name to 253 were twittering and cooing around him. Even more amazing was the fact that the birds seemed not to be afraid of him. He held out his arm and a dozen finches, sparrows, and hawks alighted on it as if it were the branch of a familiar tree .
Soon he found himself walking among the birds, looking at their fantastic colors. These were birds he had seen only at a distance. Now they were only a few inches from him. He saw small birds like the canary, thrush, and warbler. There were woodpeckers, owls, and kingfishers. He was amazed by the multicolored toucans, macaws, and pheasants. Peregrines brushed wings with pigeons as if they were the best of friends instead of deadly enemies. The ducks waddled around with the pelicans and the flamingos. He was overwhelmed .
It took a few minutes before the reality of what was happening struck him .
For 120 years he had helped his family build the ark. It had seemed like a never-ending task. Would there ever really be a terrible rain and a great flood? Would all the animals really gather together and come aboard the ark?
His smile of understanding began to fade. What about those who would be left behind? They would be facing God's judgment. They would be destroyed. His father's warnings were now coming true .
Japheth's thoughts were interrupted by a harsh yelling. He went to the edge of the roof and looked down. His brothers and Noah were shouting and pointing toward the forest. As his eyes lifted, his breath stopped .
Coming over the hill, and through what was left of the forest of Azer, were the animals .
They were making their way to the ark in a great herd, a milling crowd of beasts that was so huge he could hardly tell one animal from another. Straining his eyes as his mouth 254 opened in astonishment, he could make out bears, lions, an elephant amid the torrent of smaller creatures .
As they neared the ark, he could see wondrous animals he had no names for and whose weird shapes he had never dreamed of--kangaroos, rhinoceroses, giraffes. The deer and the monkeys wandered with the leopards. The elephants looked huge as they lumbered among the skunks and porcupines, somehow managing not to crush a single one .
"Come down and help us," cried Shem .
Japheth climbed off the roof to the walkway and then to the third floor. He went through the door and down the large zigzagging ramp to the ground .
"What should we do now?" said Ham .
"God has brought the animals here. He will show us what to do," said Noah. He climbed up on part of the scaffolding supporting the ramp and looked over the animals .
He began to notice that the animals were sorting themselves into pairs. Soon they were standing next to their mates. His heart leaped with joy as he realized what God was doing .
"We will begin taking them up the ramp into the ark. Lead the larger and heavier animals in first. Take the elephants, hippopotami, and rhinoceroses down the inside ramp to the bottom floor. It will help to keep us from capsizing. Put the bear, moose, elk, and tapirs with them. We will bring in the large cats next."
They set to work, amazed at the docile way even the fiercest animals let themselves be led aboard the ark and into their stalls. Noah and his family were too busy to notice the crowd of people who had gathered at a safe distance to watch this incredible sight. No one spoke--either from astonishment or from fear that the animals might attack them. Or perhaps the terrible truth had finally dawned on them .
The flood was coming .
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THIRTY-THREE
"THEY WERE PROBABLY FAKES," Murphy said as he and Isis caught their first glimpse of Dogubayazit. "I mean, that bronze plate--it's hard to believe something like that was really on the ark. I think our man got cold feet. He probably thought we'd show up with the police in the morning. That's why he made himself scarce."
"Those documents were genuine. I'm sure of it," Isis countered. "And ten thousand dollars is a lot of money. I find it hard to believe he wouldn't stick around to collect."
Murphy sighed. "Well, we'll never know now. So let's just put it behind us. What do you think of Dogubayazit?"
Isis snorted. "If you'd been prepared, if you'd had the money with you--"
"Isis, please!" Murphy almost shouted. "I've had a lot
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more experience than you with these things. Trust me, we were about to be taken for a ride. And now we're within striking distance of Ararat. Let's look forward, not back. Okay?"
She snorted again, but didn't say anything. They continued in silence along a highway running east on a large, flat plain between two ranges of desolate, craggy mountains. The road had slowly risen to an altitude of 6,400 feet as it got nearer to the Iranian border.
Now they could see Ararat in the distance about fifteen miles away, the top third covered in snow. It seemed incredible that the resting place of the ark was there in plain sight, as it had been for thousands of years, so clear they felt they only had to reach out to touch it. And the wonder of it banished all thoughts of what might have been in Erzurum.
They entered the town between clusters of shabby concrete houses and headed for the Hotel Isfahan, a favorite among climbing teams.
Dogubayazit had grown to a town of forty-nine thousand people, and Murphy wondered what they all did for a living out in the middle of nowhere. He had been told by Levi that the main source of income for the town was smuggling, which made sense.
When Murphy and Isis walked into the lobby, they could hear raucous laughter coming from farther inside the hotel. The receptionist, a thin man with an outsize mustache, seemed to know who they were before they had a chance to introduce themselves and simply pointed toward the dining room. They hefted their bags and followed his directions.
Inside the dining room, the Ararat team seemed to
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have pretty much taken over. There was no sign of any other guests. And Murphy wondered whether the sight of Hodson and Valdez--dressed in army fatigues and with handguns slung in shoulder holsters, loudly downing shots of the local raki--had sent them scurrying for cover. They certainly looked like a dangerous crew, and Murphy was very glad they were on his side.
Also sitting at a long table spread with a red-checked tablecloth were Professor Reinhold, holding a book in one hand and a breadstick in the other, Bayer and Lundquist, engaged in a fiercely whispered debate over something, and Vern Peterson, who was chatting amiably with Whittaker. Vern was the first to spot Murphy and Isis, and he quickly got up from the table and intercepted them. "Murph, I've got some bad news.
The Turkish government is giving us a hard time about the helicopter. I was able to fly it into Dogubayazit, but they say I don't have permission to go any nearer to Ararat."
Murphy looked over at Mustafa Bayer.
The Turk put his glass down and sighed theatrically. "I know! I know! I am working on it! I got the permits to climb the mountain, and we had permission to fly, but the man who was in charge of the military area was reassigned to a different post. The new colonel does not know about our arrangement. It's just typical Turkish bureaucracy. I'm sure I can clear it up soon."
"I hope we can by tomorrow evening," said Murphy. "If not, we'll need to hire horses to carry our gear up to Camp One. Then we will have to carry the other supplies to Camp Two and Camp Three by backpack. That won't be fun."
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Peterson continued, "I sure want to get a chance to fly this thing, Murph. It's a twin-engine, four-rotator-blade Huey. It'll fly six people and some gear up to about twelve thousand feet. If we go higher we'll probably have to drop it down to about four people. The four blades will help in the thin air, but the higher we go the less efficient we are."
"What happens if it starts snowing while you're flying at a high altitude?" asked Professor Reinhold, putting down a forkful of salad.
"That shouldn't be a problem. The Huey comes equipped with de-icing equipment. I think wind would be more of a problem. Strong gusts are difficult to deal with. Especially if you're too close to the mountain. We wouldn't be the first plane to flip. But don't worry, you're in good hands!"
"I'm relieved to hear that," Reinhold said, sounding anything but.
Hodson spoke up. "Isn't it possible that the wind from your blades could start an avalanche?"
Vern shrugged. "It's possible. You'll have to be sure you're not under a cornice or a steep face when I pick you up. I won't be able to land on most of the mountain. It's too steep. We'll have to use the winch and pull you up."
The group was silent for a moment, focusing on the fact that the helicopter pilot could be their savior--or could condemn them to an icy grave.
Then Lundquist waved Murphy and Isis over. "Come on, you two. Have a drink and something to eat. It's not bad, you know, and it may be a while before we see real food again."
Murphy decided it was time to establish his authority.
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"No thanks. We need to get things moving. I want you and Valdez to help me check all the climbing equipment and supplies." He nodded toward the other end of the table. "Hodson can check the first-aid equipment and radios. Isis has a list of food supplies we're going to need. I suggest Professor Reinhold go with her to the market."
Plates were reluctantly pushed aside, drinks downed, and everyone got moving. Bayer was left lounging in his chair.
"And what would you like me to do?" he smiled.
Murphy didn't return his smile. "We need that permission to fly over Ararat. Who do we have to talk to?"
Bayer frowned. "Do not trouble yourself. Trust me, it will be done."
"Then do it," Murphy insisted.
Bayer slunk off with a scowl. Whittaker watched him go and gave Murphy a wink. "Way to go, Murphy. I hope you haven't made an enemy there."
Murphy turned on him. "There's no room for prima donnas on this team, Whittaker. The sooner Bayer realizes it, the better."
"Then I guess I better go upstairs and check that all my film's loaded," Whittaker said, making for the door. "I don't want to get chewed out by the boss."
When everyone else had left, Murphy sat down with Vern and reviewed their plans, trying to make sure he had thought of everything. The way the rest of the team had seemed so relaxed was bothering him. Two hours later a disconsolate Bayer arrived back at the hotel.
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"Is he going to release the Huey?" asked Peterson.
"I think so," Bayer said. "But it will not happen for at least two days. We will have to make other arrangements to get the equipment to the mountain. You will not be able to fly the team to Ararat, but you will be able to pick us up and bring us home."
"Let's go!" said Murphy, slapping the table with his palm. "We can't waste time here. We have to find someone with horses who can pack us in."
It was 5:00 A.M. the next day when the team assembled in front of the hotel and began loading their gear into a truck. Valdez got in the cab next to Bayer, while the rest of the team piled into a van. Peterson waved them off.
"We'll keep in touch by satellite phone," Murphy assured him, winding down the passenger-side window. "God willing, we'll see you on Ararat!"
Vern saluted and watched the van disappear around the corner.
The back of the van was fitted with rough benches on each side, and as the team settled themselves, Murphy was reminded of paratroopers waiting to be dropped over enemy territory. "Last chance to bail out," he said. "Next stop, Ararat."
"Next stop, Noah's Ark," Reinhold grinned.
Up front, Bayer was talking. "We'll head east on the main highway toward Iran, until we come to the Dogubayazit Commando Post. You will all need to have your passports and climbing permits ready for the military guards. About one kilometer past the post we will
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turn left and go north toward Ararat. It is a fairly good dirt road. It should not take too long."
Isis watched out the window as the sun rose over two small villages. Some of the early-morning shepherds were already out rounding up their flocks.
Soon they began to climb the slopes toward a house. When they reached the 6,600-foot level, they stopped and unloaded their gear. The horse-packer and his two sons were waiting, huddled around a fire. They loaded the equipment onto the horses and the team began the trek to Camp 1. As the sound of hooves on the rocky trail replaced the grinding of gears, and goat-herder settlements replaced villages, they began to feel they had entered a different world--a world that still had links with the ancient past.
Murphy dropped back to watch his team as they progressed up the mountain. Valdez and Hodson had each taken a flank, scanning the trail ahead and periodically turning one-eighty to check behind. Machine pistols were slung round their necks, but their hands never left the stocks. Murphy didn't want to know how they'd got the weapons into Turkey. Bayer had taken point, no doubt an issue of pride, and was striding ahead up the trail. Occasionally he would slow and look up toward the snowline as if he was waiting for something. Lundquist walked behind him, his eyes never straying from Bayer's back, as if he was determined to keep him in sight at all times.
In the middle of the group, Reinhold was trying to read a book balanced on the back of one of the horses. Every now and then he would stumble against a rock, cursing, and the book would fall to the ground. Murphy
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shook his head. For a man who seemed to share many of his own interests, Reinhold was curiously uncommunicative. He was clearly as fascinated by the possibility of finding the ark as Murphy was, but Murphy suspected he was put off by the spiritual underpinning of their quest and preferred to keep his thoughts to himself. Fair enough, Murphy thought. Plenty of time for talking later.
Just ahead of Murphy, Isis was keeping up a good pace with her easy, economical stride. She looked as if she was on a Sunday morning stroll up a gentle hillside, and Murphy marveled again at her reserves of strength and endurance. He also marveled at her wild, natural beauty, which perfectly complemented the awesome landscape around them.
And he wasn't the only one to appreciate it. For every shot of the mountain Whittaker took, he surreptitiously snapped off two of Isis. Despite himself, Murphy felt a pang of annoyance. Or could it be jealousy?
It was mid-afternoon, and they seemed to have been climbing for hours when the clouds grew dark and it began to rain. By the time they had unpacked their rain gear, it had begun to pour. Thunder roared and lightning flashed, and slippery mud quickly made the going treacherous. But the horse-packer and his sons didn't slow down for the weather. They trudged on until the clouds broke up and the su
n peeked through.
At about ten thousand feet the team reached a small grassy meadow. Streams of crystal water flowed from under a nearby snowbank, and the horse-packer and his
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sons helped to set up camp. Bright-colored nylon tents soon covered the ground, the horses were hobbled, and the evening meal was bubbling in pots over a brushwood fire.
As everyone hungrily devoured the meal of rice and beans, Murphy explained the plan for the following days, a series of treks up to Camps 2 and 3, ferrying supplies back and forth while they acclimated themselves.
There was little conversation. Everyone had their own thoughts about what was to come, and there was a palpable sense of energies being conserved. The easy part was over.
The sun had gone down and a breeze was picking up. The horse-packer and his sons tied blankets over the horses and went to their tent, while the rest followed suit.
Isis curled up in her sleeping bag and pulled the drawstring tight against the cold air. In the darkness she could hear the nylon flapping in the breeze. She couldn't help thinking that Murphy was only a few feet away. Then exhaustion took over and she began to fall asleep, her mind filling with a jumble of violent images that would feed her dreams through the night.
Murphy lay with his eyes open, listening to the sounds of the night. He could hear the noise of weapons being field-stripped. And the rustle of pages--probably Professor Reinhold studying his research materials on the construction of the ark.
Then all he could hear was the sound of the wind on the mountain.
He began to pray.