Day 8
Today we visit with Paul Mannering as he spends the next three days telling us his tale, The Exodus Conspiracy.
The Exodus Conspiracy
Moses sat on the
slopes of Mount Hoeb and watched the sheep totter through the dried grass on
their clockwork legs. He took pride in watching the sheep graze. Every mouthful
of vegetation that they cropped from the rocky soil was ground into paste, then
fermented in the glass tanks deep in the mechanical’s bellies. They drained the
resulting fluid from the machines at camp and then shipped it to distant Khem. They
used it as fuel to power the great machines that were building the empire of
the Pharaohs. Of course, they would have you believe the machines were the
creations of the Khemites - the people of the Nile, but Moses knew. Their
mastery of machines was forged on the whipped backs of his fellow Israelites.
It mattered little to the arrogant pharaohs; they even called the science of
the Hebrews, Khemistry.
Moses liked
sheep, they did not ask anything of him and he was content to watch over them
while they grazed. The peace and quiet gave him a chance to think. Thinking
came easy to Moses, speaking his mind was more challenging. He liked to ponder
things, sometimes for hours, speaking required quick thought and an agile
tongue, Moses felt he lacked both, the words that were so clear in his mind
became tangled in a stutter when he spoke.
At the sound of a
bell, he rose from the rock he was sitting on. One of the sheep had lost its
balance and the spring work alarm on its underside was beating an alert against
a brass cup. Climbing down the slope, he found the mechanical upside down, its
legs still winding and grinding against the air.
The sheptech
crouched and switched the sheep off before heaving it back on to its feet and
checking for damage. The mechanical creatures were more suited to flat ground,
but the hunt for fuel meant they needed to be driven up the slopes of mountains
and into rougher ground than suited them. The risks were higher and only the
promise of punishment if the quotas were not met, kept the sheptechs grazing
their flocks further every day.
The sheep
appeared to be fine so Moses slid a key into the beast’s head and wound it up.
Then with a flick of a switch, it moved off, the steel jaws chomping as the
head lowered and began to graze.
Moses strolled
among the other mechanicals in his flock, his people used to farm real sheep-
living animals of flesh and wool. They provided everything, food and clothing
woven from fine fabrics. Now all food came from the Khemites, produce enough
fuel and they would pay you in bread and fish, though never lamb. They knew the
Israelites revered lamb and used it in sacrifices to their God Yahweh. The
Pharaohs who claimed they were the only true gods forbade worship of this god. The
Israelites, who also called themselves Hebrews, worshipped in secret, praying
for salvation from the yoke of Khem rule and an escape from the slavery that
the Pharaohs inflicted upon Yahweh’s chosen people.
The rage Moses
felt about the oppression of his people made his head hurt and his tongue
become even more tied in knots than usual. He would keep working with his
father in law’s flock until, one day, someone stood up to lead Abraham’s people
to freedom and Moses would join the exodus away from Khem.
Far off in the
distance the steam whistle sounded, the train from Khem would be here before
nightfall. Unloading the few supplies the people had earned and loading up the
tanks with liquid fuel, Moses hated that whistle and the slavery it
represented.
Gently guiding
the leaders of the flock with a few taps of his stick, he worked the
mechanicals higher up the slope. The gauges on their sides showed that most
were only a half full and there were only a few hours of daylight left. What
they would do when the grass was all gone and the last tree had been torn from
the earth, Moses did not know. His people would starve first, and then the
Khemites machines would grind to a halt. Their temples and pyramids would
remain unfinished and the colossal trains that dragged massive stone blocks
from the quarries to the construction sites would fall silent. When the grass
was all gone the desert would come from the south, sweeping over all of civilization,
burying the tombs and the idols. Only the windblown sand could scour the names
of the pharaohs and their false gods from history. Moses hoped that God would
look down on the Khemites then and laugh at their suffering.
In the late
afternoon one of the mechanical sheep malfunctioned. It remained on its feet,
while the iron jaws clanged together and the creature’s head twisted around.
Moses hurried over, the noise of gears grinding sounded bad, the repairs could
take several days and who had time to spend in the workshop? Sparks flew from
the keyhole in the sheep’s forehead, and then it shuddered.
The smell of burning clockwork oil reached
Moses’ nostrils - he swept off his cloak and nervously looked for patches of
tinder igniting in the dry ground. Smoke curled from a nearby bramble and as
Moses dashed forward to quench the first flames, the bush exploded in a surge
of fire.
“No, no, no!”
Moses shouted at the bush, the flames would quickly spread. The grass was so
dry that nothing would stop the fire until the entire mountain burnt to black
ash.
Beating at the
bush with his cloak Moses tried to stamp out the roaring fire.
MOSES! A voice
boomed across the mountainside. MOSES! It bellowed again and the flames reached
higher.
“He-help m-m-me
p-put out this fire!” Moses called to the unseen person hailing him. “Quickly!”
The fire roared
higher, taking on a shape that seemed brighter than the sun, eclipsed its
light.
MOSES, DO NOT
FEAR THE FLAME.
Moses hesitated,
the smoke from the fire rose straight up, and the flames took on weird shapes,
forming eyes and a face that glared and moved within the tempest.
“Who are
y-y-you?” he demanded of the voice in the fire.
I AM WHO I AM,
the voice thundered and the sky darkened. DO NOT COME ANY CLOSER. TAKE OFF YOUR
SANDALS. YOU STAND ON HOLY GROUND.
Moses shielded
his eyes against the fierce heat, kneeling to slip his sandals off as a giant
figure formed in the heart of the fire.
“Who are you?” he
called, unable to look into the inferno.
I AM THE GOD OF
YOUR FATHER. THE GOD OF ABRAHAM, THE GOD OF ISAAC AND THE GOD OF JACOB.
The fire flared white-hot
and Moses pressed his face into the dirt, fearing he would be burned alive or
suffocated by the heat.
I HAVE SEEN THE
MISERY OF MY CHOSEN PEOPLE IN THE LAND OF KHEM. I HAVE HEARD THEM CRYING OUT
FOR FREEDOM. THEY SHALL BE DELIVERED FROM THE HANDS OF THE PHARAOH. THEY WILL
COME FORTH FROM KHEM AND INTO A NEW LAND. A GOOD AND SPACIOUS LAND. ONE FLOWING
WITH MILK AND HONEY. THE LAND OF THE CAANITES, HITTITES, AMORITES, PERIZZITES,
HIVITES AND JEBUSITES.
“Lord!” Moses
cried out to the figure in the burning bush, “W-who will lead us to this
ne-ne-new land? Tell me so-so I may fa-fa-find them and f-follow them to exalt
in your victory.”
MOSES, YOU WILL
GO TO THE LAND OF KHEM. TELL THE PHARAOH THAT YOU ARE THERE TO BRING MY PEOPLE,
THE ISRAELITES OUT OF EGYPT.
“Me?” Moses
lifted his head. “But…but… me?” he said again.
I WILL BE WITH
YOU. WHEN YOU BRING MY PEOPLE OUT OF BONDAGE YOU WILL RETURN TO THIS MOUNTAIN
AND WORSHIP ME HERE.
“I cannot do this
Lord! I am s-s-slow of speech and th-thah-thought. I am no leader of men. If I
got to K-Khem and tell my brethren that the Go-God of our fathers has sent me
to bring them out of ba-ba-bondage they will say, W-What is the name of this
God you s-s-speak of? Wh-wha-what am I supposed to t-t-tell them?”
I AM WHO I AM.
TELL THE ISRAELITES HE WHO IS I AM HAS SENT ME TO YOU. GATHER THE ELDERS OF
ISRAEL. TELL THEM THE GOD OF THEIR FATHERS – THE GOD OF ABRAHAM, OF ISSAC AND
JACOB – APPEARED TO ME AND SAID I HAVE HEARD YOUR PRAYERS AND SEEN YOUR
SUFFERING. THE LORD GOD WILLS THAT THEY LEAVE KHEM FOR A NEW LAND, A GOOD AND
SPACIOUS LAND. A LAND FLOWING-
“I ge-get it,”
Moses said to the bush. “But I c-c-cannot do this. I have a q-quo-uota to fill.
If I abandon the m-ma-ma-mechanicals, my fa-family will starve.
MOSES! The voice
boomed from the flames, THE ELDERS OF ISRAEL WILL LISTEN TO YOU. TOGETHER YOU
SHALL GO TO THE LORDS OF KHEM AND TELL THEM THE GOD OF THE HEBREWS, HAS SPOKEN
TO YOU. TELL PHARAOH TO ALLOW YOUR PEOPLE FREEDOM TO TRAVEL FOR THREE DAYS INTO
THE WILDERNESS, AND THEN THEY SHALL MAKE SACRIFIC1ES TO THE LORD THEIR GOD.
“Thank you Lord!”
Moses cried out to the flames. “You w-will open the Pharaoh’s eyes so he may s-see
the truth?”
THE PHARAOH WILL
NOT LET YOU GO. HE WILL NEED TO BE SHOWN THE POWER OF YOUR FAITH. THE POWER OF
YOUR GOD. I WILL REACH OUT AND STRIKE THE KHEMITES WITH PLAGUES THAT WILL SHOW
THEM MY PEOPLE MUST BE SET FREE.
“And after that, he
w-wa-will let my p-p-eople go?” Moses asked.
I WILL ALSO MAKE
THE KHEMITES GIVE UP THEIR SILVER AND GOLD TO THEIR ISRAELITE NEIGHBOURS. THEY
WILL MAKE GIFTS OF CLOTHING FOR YOUR SONS AND DAUGHTERS, IN THIS WAY YOU WILL
PLUNDER THE KHEMITES.
“And after that,
he w-will let my p-people go?” Moses asked again
WHAT IS THAT IN
YOUR HAND? The burning bush demanded.
“This? It is my
Shh-shh-sheep Training And F-fur-fermentation F-fa-fa-facilitator,” Moses said.
THROW DOWN YOUR
STAFF, the bush said.
“My staff is a
delicate piece of machinery. I can’t-”
THROW DOWN YOUR STAFF!
The rod flew from
Moses’ hand and clattered against the rocks. As it struck the ground, the staff
flexed and writhed. As the terrified Moses looked on his stick curled and rose
up in the shape of a hissing snake.
NOW PICK IT UP
“I re-really
d-d-d-d-don’t think that-that is a go-good idea,” Moses crawled backwards from
the hissing serpent.
PICK IT UP BY THE
TAIL
Quaking in terror
Moses reached out, the snake twisted on its tail and hissed up at him. Jerking
his hand back, Moses recoiled.
BY THE TAIL
MOSES.
Whimpering Moses
reached out again, this time he snatched the snake up by its tail. Expecting to
be bitten at any moment, he held the stick by its end at arm’s length.
BY THIS SIGN THEY
WILL KNOW THAT THE LORD HAS SENT YOU TO DO HIS BIDDING
Moses doubted
very much that the Pharaoh’s court would be impressed by a simple conjuring
trick. However, the fiery voice left him in no doubt as to the choice he had in
the matter.
“Very well
L-l-lord, I will go to the land of K-k-khem and demand that the Pha-pharaoh let
your p-p-people go into the wilderness and mm-make sacrifice to you.”
The voice in the
burning bush spoke again, and Moses nodded his understanding. The wrath of
Yahweh would be a terrible thing against the Khemites. Finally, the bush flared
to an eye searing brilliance, and then the fire went out. Moses marveled that
the bush appeared untouched by the flames that had so entirely consumed it.
“Of c-course,” he
muttered, “You c-c-could have just s-s-set a b-b-b-bush on fire in the
Ph-pharaoh’s garden and t-t-told him yourself.”
An ominous
thunder rumbled and Moses scuttled back to his flock, adjusting the mechanicals’
mode to Home he walked behind them as
they picked their way down the slope and followed the signal back to the beacon
at camp.
*
As the sun went
down, flocks of mechanical sheep ticked and clicked in their pens. Sheptechs
like Moses moved them into position and drained their fermentation tanks into
larger vessels. The tanker train for Khem waited at the siding and the
sheptechs worked quickly, each wanting to receive their ration of food and get
home to their tents to feed their families.
Aaron stood with
his arms folded, overseeing the proceedings. He watched Moses come hurrying through
the stockyards until he stood doubled over and panting at his brother’s elbow.
The brother
listened while Moses gasped out his story. “You are telling me the Lord God,
came to you and said, Go to Khem; demand the Pharaoh let my people go?” Aaron
asked.
“Well… y-yes,”
Moses agreed. “He sp-spoke to m-me from a bah-bah-burning bush.”
“Did you
perchance, inhale a quantity of smoke from this burning bush before the Lord
God spoke to you?”
Moses sighed,
“B-brother, you kn-n-know K-khem is the last p-place I w-wuh-wuh-want to go.
B-b-b-but who can refuse the w-wha-word of Yahweh?”
“Anyone who is
not my foolish brother?”
“I need you to
c-c-c-ome with me Aaron. You have a g-g-gift of …uhh…”
“Words? Charm?
Diplomacy?” Aaron suggested.
“Yes. That and
m-m-more. Please, Yahweh showed me things that I c-c-c-cannot understand. We
will duh-duh-demonstrate his power to the Pharaoh. The K-khemites will suffer
the wrath of G-g-god and our p-puh-people shall be free of their bondage.”
Aaron thought for
a long moment, he did well out of the trade between the Hebrews and distant
Khem. While those around him toiled as sheptechs, Aaron made his ration and
coin as well by facilitating and organizing things. Life, for him at least, was
good here.
“You say there
will be gold, silver and fine cloth? Gifts from the Khemites?” Aaron asked.
“Yes, the Lord
has said it will be so. M-m-m-more g-g-g-old and silver than you c-can imagine,
all of it will be ours.”
“When do we
leave?” Aaron said.
Moses headed off
to explain things to his father in law; Aaron watched him go and shook his
head. It was a cruel thing to do, involving his brother in an operation like
this. The Elders of Zion had been adamant that for the plan to work, a figurehead
with absolute belief in God was necessary to draw attention away from the
subterfuge.
“Boy,” Aaron
summoned one of the messenger runners. “Go to Joseph in the red tent. Tell him
that Operation Exodus is a go.” The boy nodded and sprinted off. Aaron sighed,
three years of planning had gone into this, now all they needed was luck,
perfect timing and, hopefully, God on their side.
*
Sneaking on to
the train for Khem was simple enough. The long line of tanker cars had a steam
driven locomotive at each end. The driver and his second simply walked down the
half-mile length of train and climbed into the other engine for the return
journey. For Moses and Aaron it was a less comfortable journey, the tops of the
cylindrical tanks were wide enough for them to lie down, but once the train got
up to speed, the night air took on a distinct chill. The train flew along the
tracks, smearing the landscape into a blur and sweeping the tears from their
eyes as they tried to look ahead.
Moses awoke,
stiff, chilled, and aching in the pre-dawn light, near him Aaron groaned.
“If this proves
to be some kind of dream you had, I shall personally see you flayed.”
“W-wuh-we are in
K-k-khem,” Moses said. The train had come to a halt in a vast web of wide
tracks, trains carrying all manner of raw materials stood silent all around them.
Further away, other trains moved and massive clockwork arms bent and lifted the
loads from the cradle of the train cars. Wood, copper ore, iron ore, silver,
gold, wool, stone, fuel and water. The land of Khem was insatiable. All of this
wealth and energy poured into the country’s wide gullet and heaped up in the
form of pyramids, temples and grand palaces.
To Moses, who had
not seen the land of Khem in several decades, the change wrought on the
landscape was astounding. In the haze fogged distance giant men could be seen
lifting stone blocks that weighed tens of tons and setting them down in
carefully calculated patterns that would be the foundation for a new monument
to the glory of the pharaohs.
“Golems,” Moses
said. “We should have k-kept them for ourselves, used them as w-w-warriors
against the Khemites. N-now, they use our own p-pow-pow-power to make sl-slaves
of us.”
“Men of fire,
baked clay, and steel,” Aaron replied. “The fire that burns within them burns
within us all. If you can gain freedom for our people, then we can take back
what is ours and the Khemites will have to build their mountains using the
sweat of their own backs to wet the mortar.”
“You sp-speak
like a Rab-rabbi,” Moses said with a smile. “The Lord will ap-prove of you
accompanying me on our qu-quh-quest.”
“I hope he helps
us win,” Aaron said. Together they climbed down from the train. Picking their
way over the latticework of iron rails they slipped between stationary train
cars and climbed an embankment. On the other side lay one of the great cities
of Khem. Here they would find the Pharaoh and deliver the Lord God’s demands. He
would listen and the great exodus to the Promised Land would begin within days.
Covering their
faces against the ever present smog and wind-blown ash of the many factories,
they trudged through the narrow streets. High overhead rails of dull brass rang
with the passing of light rail cars, carrying Khemites to their places of work
and worship. Meanwhile the Hebrew slaves walked in the dust below them.
The palace of the
Pharaoh was the most obvious structure, with its view of the great Nile and the
gleaming marble panels that lined every inch of its walls, making it shine in
the morning sunlight like a great diamond resting in the sand.
“How many of our
people must spend each day scrubbing those tiles clean?” Aaron said, his keen
eye making out the tiny figures inching their way up the surface in rough
harnesses and woven ropes.
“N-not for
mu-mu-much longer,” Moses said with a grim determination in his voice. They
walked through the slums where the Hebrew slaves lived close to the endless
coming and going of the great trains. Women watched them from doorways with
sullen eyes and dull expressions, while their children, bellies swollen with
malnutrition sat listless and incurious in the dust.
“H-how can they
live like this?” Moses said as they picked their way through filth and swarms
of flies.
“Many do not
live, at least not for long. The Israelites are God’s chosen people, they
endure for they have faith.
“We n-nuh-need to
give them more,” Moses said, stepping around a forlorn collection of dog-gnawed
bones that seemed child sized.
The avenue to the
palace was a testament to the wealth of the pharaohs. Four great golems stood,
two on each side, clusters of palm fronds in their hands. They towered over the
wide street, waving the makeshift fans back and forth, stirring the air with a
gentle, cooling breeze.
A legion of the
Pharaoh’s soldiers, spearmen, archers, and the fearsome firefighters, who
carried tanks of flammable liquid on their backs and could spray a rioting
crowd with a deadly fire that would cling to flesh and burn even hotter when
doused with water, guarded the entrance to the palace.
“Halt!” the
nearest guard called out as they approached. “No slaves may approach the
palace.”
“We are not
slaves, we are emissaries from Canaan,” Aaron called back.
“You look like
common Israelite scum,” the guard replied.
“W-we have
t-t-t-travelled a long way and mu-mu-must speak with the Pharaoh,” Moses said,
clutching his staff and wishing it would become a serpent, or even better a
steam-driven mechanical gun that could slay a hundred men in a few seconds.
The guards
laughed, and bowed with an exaggerated respect, “By all means your eminences,
please come this way.”
Aaron and Moses
entered the Pharaohs gate; the air inside the palace was cool and fresh. Moist
air flowed around them, driven by hidden fans and channeled through pipes cut
into the block work.
“Tell Pharaoh
that Moses and Aaron have come to speak with him. It is a message of grave
importance,” Aaron commanded.
“Sure, we will
tell him that two beggars came to offer their wisdom to he who knows all. You
stink of the field and of the sheep you lay with!”
Buckets of water
tipped from high on the wall and doused the pair in a deluge that left them
gasping and shocked.
“But first you
must bathe!” the guards roared with laughter as they closed in, drawing the
stout batons they used for beating recalcitrant slaves.
The
beating put both men on their knees, arms over their heads, crying out for aid.
The shouts and laughter of the guards was overheard by the Pharaoh’s sister and
consort, the Princess Nefteri who entered the gates reclining in her litter,
carried by four Nubian slaves.
She stopped her
procession, seven litters carrying handmaidens, an honor guard of 100 riflemen,
30 virgins and an orchestra of musicians proclaiming her passing.
“Who are they?”
she enquired from behind the silk drapes.
“Israelite
slaves,” the captain of her guard reported a moment later.
“No slave shall
be beaten to death within the confines of the palace walls,” Nefteri declared.
“I cannot abide the smell when their bowels loosen.”
Nefteri’s word
was law, only the Pharaoh himself could over rule her, so the beating ceased
and Moses and Aaron were allowed to stand up.
“Princess
Nefteri!” Aaron called to the litter, “We are emissaries from Canaan, and we
crave an audience with divine Pharaoh.”
Being in a
pernicious mood, the princess waved her hand, “Allow it,” she told her captain.
So Moses and Aaron, bearing their message from God were escorted into the
presence of the great pharaoh.
****
Return tomorrow for Part II of this exciting tale!
****
****
Paul has published dozens of short stories and radio plays in a range of genres across many different international markets. He has edited a collection of horror fiction, published his own collection and his first novel.
In 2007 he co-founded BrokenSea Audio Productions, which podcasts free audio drama each week to an audience of millions. Paul lives with his wife Damaris and their two cats.
Blog: http://tankbread.blogspot.co.nz/
www.brokensea.com
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