THE PRIEST OF SANTA MARIA: - BABYLON CIRCA 7 BC - { PART. 10 }

BABYLON, CIRCA  7 BC                                                                    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------    { PART. 1 } - A subtle breeze wafted through the open shutters, caressing the nape of Jannara's neck like the soothing whispers of a woman. It was a welcome respite from the relentless desert heat of the day. The night always brought with it a sigh of relief. The light from three Roman lamps on his workbench guided his eyes as he scribed the last of his instructions onto a piece of parchment. The open shutters behind him framed the scintillatingly starry sky, while the breath of the wind frolicked with the lambent flames and contorted his silhouette on the whitewashed walls. He completed his task and signed off with his name and seal--a star with his initials in its centre. It had been an extraordinary few weeks, which had involved many painstaking hours fashioning a block of cypress into a receptacle that was not only pleasing to the eye but also matched his technical requirements. He had exceeded his expectations on both counts. Before him was an item of sublime beauty--a rectangular trinket box consisting of a hinged lid and base, every detail handcrafted by Jannara himself with the dexterity of a master craftsman. A sliding wooden panel had been built inside the lower framework of the box, safely concealing a strip of white linen. On the underside of the lid, a cuneiform message had been etched into the wood with directions on how to unlock the secret compartment with it. He dusted the lid and held it closer to the light, narrowing his eyes. The lid itself had an intricate design --a map--chiselled on its surface. This would play an integral role in liberating the secret compartment. The blaze highlighted a flaw that had gone unnoticed. With his carving tool in hand, he etched deeper into a section of the map, blowing the dust and brushing it away with his fingertips.          ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

{ PART. 2 } - He nodded contentedly, opened the box and, to ensure there were no imperfections in the lettering, ran his finger along the inscription on the underside of the lid. Satisfied, he slid the wooden panel open, removed the fabric, held it between praying hands, and with closed eyes muttered inaudibly. After completing his supplication, he touched the tips of his fingers to his forehead, kissed the fabric and placed it back in the box, sealing it beneath the wooden panel. The haunting knw-wick of a solitary owl pierced through the window; a male hunting for rodents in the desert dusk. Jammara sat up, made circles with his head and pinched his back to relieve the aches provoked by his continuous crouching. His mouth felt like sand. He sipped water from the cup by his side before opening the secret compartment to reveal a complex geared mechanism rather like an astrolabe. A device with three principal dials stacked one upon the other. When the parchment was dry, he folded it into a neat square, tucked it into a space within the compartment, and moved his attention to the dials. He turned the smallest one first, a hundred and eighty degrees to the right; then the middle dial ninety degrees to the left. He moved the top dial forty-five degrees to the right, pushed it down firmly, twisted it sixty degrees to the left, and pressed it down once more.                            ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------    { PART. 3 } - Breathing deeply, he shut the lid and lowered his ear to the box to hear the clicking sound that confirmed the contents were locked and secure. He attempted to pry it open, but it remained sealed. Jannara smiled, pleased with himself. And so it is done.        TWENTY FIRST CENTURY, GENEVA, SWITZERLAND      MOOSH-AM ARE YOU HOME?                                                    Kurush tossed his jacket on the coat stand and dropped his keys on the hallway table. In the kitchen, Papa. He continued through the hallway carrying a paper bag blotched with grease. His daughter, Frya, was sitting at the table, her laptop open. Beside it was a sandwich with mouse-like bite marks around its circumference. She looked at the paper bag and smiled. Let me guess--pain au chocolat. You know I can't resist. He placed the bag on the bench. I bought one for you too. Coffee? She nodded, watching him endearingly as he prepared the coffee machine. How his hair sparkled like graphite in the sunlight! His every movement seemed imbued with an intrinsic nobility as modest as a gentle breeze. He caught her gaze from the corner of his eye. And what's so interesting? he said. You seem different. Different how? Like a man on the verge of a breakthrough. That's cheating. You know exactly what lies ahead of us this evening. He put the pastries on a plate and placed them on the table. Now, wait for your coffee and me, he said with mock sternness. I know the ritual. He placed the coffee on the table and sat down. What are you working on? Just checking emails; she replied with a mischievous grin as she lifted a wrapped package from her lap and placed it on the table. Happy birthday, Papa!                                                            -----------------------------------------------------------------------------        { PART. 4 } - She stretched out her arms and hugged him, kissing his cheek. Moosh-am! He took the gift, smiling and patting her arm. Where did you find cuneiform wrapping Paper? I'm a very resourceful woman. That you are, he said, with a raised brow. I don't want to tear it. It's a present in itself. He took a knife from a drawer and meticulously sliced the tape. Frya watched, noticing a nervous tremor in his hand. The paper parted without a single tear to reveal a black gift box. He lifted the lid to find a tie with a matching tie clip and cufflinks. Pietro Cavallini's Gift of the Magi! Another bespoken item? And it has the mosaic effect. You can see it on the cufflinks and the clip. He nodded, holding the tie up to the light. I love it. Every item. He kissed her cheek. So, she said, dropping a lump of sugar into her coffee, you're keeping a calm exterior, but I can tell you're bursting inside. He nodded with fevered excitement as he placed the tie back in the box. I've never seen you like this. He took a sip of coffee. If I'm honest I have a flood of conflicting emotions coursing through my body. Fear of disappointment that it will be an anticlimax. The excitement that after two thousand years of ancestry we are the chosen ones. It has to carry some importance, surely. Are you afraid you won't rise to the challenge? What if there is no challenge? What if it's nothing? Then the wait will be over. We will be disappointed for a while, but we'll carry on with our lives. Where's the box now? In my office. Beneath the skylight. Facing the heavens. You know I've waited my entire life too. I know you have.    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  { PART. 5 } - I filled your head with stories about the box from the moment you were conceived. I would lean my head to your mama's bump and recount the tales of our ancestors. And you never stopped until I began finishing the stories for you. She smiled reminiscently. He chuckled for a moment before his smile faded and his eyes moistened. I just wish your mother were here to share this moment with us. Frya placed her hand over his. She is Papa. He patted her hand. Look, whatever happens tonight, I want you to know that you're not obliged to be involved. Papa, stop. I've already taken a sabbatical from the hospital. I've let go of the flat, and I've left Zurich to come to Geneva and spend time with you. There are other doctors just as competent as I am. I doubt that. Oh, you're just biased... Listen, I don't want you to become too excited. You're right; it may turn out to be nothing. I see the same doubting whispers have been circling your mind, he admitted. She rested her hand on his. So now we wait. What's another few hours, hey? He nodded; a burdened glint in his eyes.                                                                                   LATER THAT EVENING, FRYA entered the lounge in search of Kurush who was sitting in his favourite arm-chair, sipping coffee, his gaze riveted on the blank television screen. Papa, it's time. He looked up at her with a glint of adoration in his eyes. She was a beauty like her mother, Nazanin--refined in stature; eyes like the moon; skin golden silk. It's close to midnight, she said. He looked down, saying nothing.                                                                                                 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

{ PART. 6 } - I've never seen you like this. She walked over to him and knelt by his side, placing her hands over his. This story has been the focal point of my life. It was my only purpose after your mother's death. I'm afraid...That you'll have nothing to live for after this? Yes, and that my life has been a waste of time. Papa, you're a highly praised and published Professor of Babylonian Studies. You raised me after Mama died. Tell me what part of your life has been wasted? He nudged his forehead into hers. Jane del-am, you were always wise, even as a child. How about we hold hands and walk upstairs together? Whatever happens, we'll face it together. He took a deep breath. It's time. It's time, she  repeated.                                               THEY REACHED THE BOTTOM: of the stairs and stopped for a moment to gaze up the short staircase that led directly to the study. The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step, said Frya. If it's good enough for Lao Tzu? said Kurush. They nodded and simled at each other, each lifting a foot onto the first step. As they ascended the staircase, Kurush turned to her. You know that an important part of Jannara's riddle is still a mystery. She said nothing until they reached the top and stopped outside a closed door. I have a feeling that's intentional...Now, after you, she said, motioning towards the door. He yielded with a nod and they entered a room with the ambience of an antiquated library. To their right was a disk, where Jannara's box took central position beneath the skylight.                     --------------------------------------------------------------------------------     { PART. 7 } - Ahead of them was a patio door with a telescope positioned skywards. Kurush pulled the door open, revealing the night sky. Then he took his place behind the telescope and peered through the eyepiece. How long until midnight? he asked. Frya looked at her watch. About three minutes. Let's go over Jannara's inscription. What's baffling to me is this unknown. Frya opened a desk drawer and removed a notebook. Here we go, she said, flicking to the first page. I am Jannara. On the fiftieth year of my second and final incarnation, follow the status of each Royal through the sign of stauros, to the unknown, where what I have concealed can be retrieved by my hand only, at the hour that seals the night. In the name of Zarathustra's Royals! exclaimed Kurush, moving his eye away from the telescope. What is it? Kurush stumbled over his words; his saucer-shaped eyes wide with moisture. Papa? I...I can't believe this. Can't believe what, Papa? Talk to me. It's... He shook his head. Papa! A star, Frya. It's a star, Frya. It's a star. The words seemed to find their own way from his lips as if he was too amazed to speak them himself. He stood up and grasped hold of her shoulders. What ever this is, it's huge! What do you mean, a star? The unknown is an uncharted star! Are you sure? I've watched the stars for over thirty years.                                                                     ----------------------------------------------------------------------------         { PART. 8 } - I'm positive. Let me see. she bulldozed past him to take a look through the eyepiece. What am I looking at? Where? He gently prised her head away from the telescope. It's as unmistakable as the hand of God. Just there, beneath the Pole Star. He pointed to its position. Frya followed his pointing finger, in there, just beneath Polaris, shone a resplendent star of huge magnitude. Her mouth dropped open as she stared up at a gleaming crystal as large as the eye of a giant. Before she could speak another word--it blinked at them. She shot a look at her father with a half-smile that was unwilling to believe what had just happened. Kurush rushed to his desk with unbridled excitement. He took a seat, turned on his table lamp and pulled the box towards him. Pass me a pin, he said as he flexed his fingers. Frya pulled one out of a box and handed it to him, then turned back to the star. Is it still there? he asked. It is, but... This is unreal. It's flickering--I think. Could it be a countdown? She said. As inconceivable as that sounds, you may be right. He reached for a magnifier and held it over the box. The spiral design carved by Jannara had four stars etched into it--one each at the top, bottom, left and right sides of the spiral. He moved the pin to the star at the crown. What's happening with our uncharted star? It's still blinking. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------     { PART. 9 } - Astronomers across the world must be going nuts. Yet it's a message intended just for us. If only they knew with a look of impenetrable concentration, Kurush moved the pin to a microscopic hole at the centre of the star and left it momentarily suspended in the air. His forehead was a film of perspiration. Here was do, he said through a mouth as dry as sandpaper. Aldebaran. He plunged the pin into a hole. A clicking noise followed that sounded like the gears of a lever being released. His head shot up--his excited eyes meeting Frya's before moving his attention back to the box. With a slight tremor in his perspiring brow, held the pin over the star at the base of the spiral and took a deep breath, pushing the pin into the tiny aperture. Antares, he announced with a firm push. Another click followed. I can't believe this. He continued to the left star, plunged the pin into it without hesitation and once again named the star. Fomalhaut. To their ears, the clicking sound was as melodious as a church choir. Tell me what our unknown is doing, he said. Still signalling. After this last star, the sign of stauros will be complete. He planted the pin into the infinitesimal hole at the right of the spiral. Regulus, he said, stabbing it in. The fourth click sounded.                   -------------------------------------------------------------------------------     { PART. 10 } - A piece of wood at the centre of the spiral collapsed, and in its place, a larger star rose from beneath it. Their eyes met in astonishment. Is there another hole? Kurush checked through the magnifier. There is. He poised his hand over the centre of the spiral and looked up at the flashing star in the sky. Its extensive size and unmatched illumination stood out life a king amongest his kingdom. Regal. Proud. Authoritative. It's speeding up, said Frya. Kurhsh bit his lip, his mouth parched and his hand quivering over the hole. He grabbed it with his free hand, holding it steady as he inserted the pin, returning his attention to the sky. With a firm push, the pin penetrated the hole and the star in the heavens gave its final wink before vanishing, for good. Three pronounced clicks followed. Their eyes met again. Time slowed to stillness, along with their breaths. He gently gripped the box with both hands and tugged lightly on the lid. It opened with surprising ease. Inside, tucked amidst the clock-work structure, was a piece of folded parchment. Kurush removed it and looked at Frya in nervous anticipation. We've come this far, she said. He nodded, carefully unfolding hands. Frya stood over him, enraptured by the streams of recognisable characters. Ancient Gree? Kurush started at the paper in his hands, chuckling and shaking his head in disbelief. It is.                                                                           ------------------------------------------------------------------------------