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23 |Unknown Location South of Aksum, Ethiopia
Acton’s heart hammered with excitement. He had seen these churches before, though only in pictures, and those did the actual structure little justice. These rock-cut monolithic churches were carved directly into the bedrock, down into the earth. It left a flat surface to the naked eye from a distance, but at the edge of the outside cuts, a full structure was visible in the center, including windows and doorways.
It was breathtaking work, performed centuries ago, providing not only security from a distance, but a reprieve from the desert heat.
“I’ve always dreamed of seeing one of these,” murmured Laura, in awe as he was.
Father Amanuel smiled. “I guess I sometimes forget how unique these are to outsiders. I’ve lived in and among them most of my life, so I guess I’ve grown accustomed to them.” He beckoned them to follow him down the stairs carved into the earth on one of the four sides, leading them to the bottom of the excavation, then through a doorway made from wood, a cross etched over its arch. They entered an outer chamber, another set of doors ahead of them.
Laura gripped Acton’s hand and squeezed. He returned it as he trembled with excitement.
“Are we about to see what I think we’re about to see?”
Amanuel smiled. “Yes. You are about to see what few have in thousands of years, ever since King Menelik ordered it hidden from his people.” The elderly priest removed a key from around his neck, and unlocked the second set of doors. He stepped inside and Acton followed Laura after him, the natural light from windows carved above gone, only torchlight now lighting their way.
Gleaming off the copious amounts of gold cladding the vessel built thousands of years ago, to the exacting specifications provided by God.
Shivers rushed over his body like waves as he took in the sight, the two cherubim, their wings arched forward as they bowed toward the mercy seat meant for communion with God Himself, had his chest aching at their beauty, the artisans responsible demonstrating their faith and respect through their God-given skills.
“It’s beautiful,” he whispered, almost afraid to speak in its presence.
Laura stepped closer, her hand extending to touch it, when he finally realized what she was doing.
“No!” He surged forward, grabbing her and pulling her back. “Don’t touch it, remember? Only by the poles.”
She gave him a look. “You don’t believe that, do you?”
“Are you willing to take that chance?”
She frowned, but shoved her hands into her pockets. “Perhaps it’s better to be safe than sorry.” She circled the Ark, examining it carefully, Acton doing the same in the opposite direction. He reached out and ran his hand along the poles used to carry the Ark, the only part of the creation allowed to be touched by man.
And frowned.
“This is a fake!” he cried.
Laura rushed around to see what he had found. “What is it?”
He pointed at the pole. “Look at the wood. What would you say that is?”
She leaned in, shaking her head. “I’m not sure, but it’s definitely not acacia.” She turned to Amanuel, who remained by the door. “Why would you waste our time like this?”
Acton stared at the elderly priest with a combination of disappointment and rage. “And all that money? What possible reason could you have?”
Amanuel held up his hands in defense. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” He stepped closer, eying the Ark. “I’m sure you’re mistaken.”
Acton shook his head vehemently. “I’m not.” He eyed Amanuel. “And you know it. You’re intentionally showing us a fake, aren’t you?”
Amanuel stood, saying nothing, before finally sighing. “It’s forbidden for anyone outside our order to see the real Ark. If word of its existence were to get out, so many would flock to it, that it would be lost for sure.”
“But isn’t it lost already?” Laura ran her hand along the fake. “Nobody has seen it for so long, it might as well be.”
Amanuel shook his head. “No, it is merely forgotten. By design.”
Acton’s eyes narrowed. “By design?”
“Yes. At first, King Menelik ordered the Ark hidden so it couldn’t be abused by his grandson, who wanted to use it to conquer the kingdom’s enemies. Jewish rabbis were given the honor of fulfilling Menelik’s directive, his instructions to keep the Ark hidden forever followed for a millennium. When our Lord Jesus Christ was born, and we converted to Christianity, things changed. He spoke of a time when the Ark would be forgotten, because it would no longer be needed to commune with God, because all man would be united under Him in Jerusalem.”
Acton bit his lip for a moment. “So, your interpretation is that this unity He spoke of can never come to pass as long as mankind knows of the Ark.”
Amanuel nodded. “Good. You understand. If word were to get out and the actual Ark were to be seen by the public, there would be a renewed reverence for it, and while it may rally many of mankind to its altar, it would mean the prophecy could never come true. Mankind would never unite under Jesus, because mankind would never have forgotten about the Ark.”
Laura, always the pragmatist, spoke first. “If you don’t want mankind to see it, and you actually want them to forget it even exists, then why not let it crumble? Why bring us here to preserve it?”
“Because it is the Ark. Nothing was ever said about destroying it, or letting it turn to dust. Our duty is to hide it until the prophecy is fulfilled.”
Acton scratched his neck. “Why not give it to the Vatican? Surely they could protect it.”
Amanuel grunted. “They would put it on display, for all to see, forever. The prophecy would be doomed for certain.”
Acton frowned. “But you’ve been telling everyone you’ve had it for decades, if not centuries.”
Amanuel smiled. “And did you believe us?”
“Well, no, I guess not.”
“Exactly. There are dozens of churches here that claim to have the Ark, many with replicas just like this. All swear theirs is real, and since they all can’t be, everyone assumes none are.”
“Yet you want us to believe yours is.”
Amanuel held up his hands and shrugged. “You must have faith, my son.”
Laura exhaled loudly. “Well, Father, if we’re to show you how to preserve the real Ark, we’ll need to see it.”
Amanuel shook his head. “Absolutely not. Just show us how on this replica, and we’ll do the rest.”
Laura waved a hand, cutting off any discussion. “No. We need to see what the actual damage is before we can know for certain how to preserve it. We have to adjust the equipment to maintain the correct conditions for its current state.” She shook her head. “No, if you want our help, we have to see the real thing, otherwise just take us back to the airport now. You can keep the equipment, but I warn you, if you don’t set it up correctly, you could do more harm than good.”
Amanuel regarded her for some time before he finally sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “Very well. But there is an old saying, Professor.” He shouted something in what Acton assumed was Amharic, and four men entered the room, AK-47s held to their chests. “Be careful what you wish for.”