The Devil's Paradise Read online

  My trust was rewarded when we reconvened in Karachi in June 1985. Remarkably, the site itself had not been disturbed at all during our time away from Pakistan. I remember how this pleased me, and yet even then I noticed how the armed guards eyed us this time around, full of suspicion. They never left us alone, always hovering nearby as we worked. I was secretly thankful that no more precious gems appeared, although I gave in occasionally to the delightful fantasy the Cristal Del Sol might somehow materialize for us in one of the underground caverns in the area. If De Gallies’ earlier description of Elohim burying the object someplace else deep within the earth was true, then I might never find it. I remained ever hopeful that this description was merely figurative, and not literal.

  There were no new items uncovered that summer, and we finally had time to decipher the meaning of the one antechamber’s walls. We devoted our entire attention to this, and to ensure the entire site was protected as much as possible from weather and other elements. Any other spare moments were spent trying to restore the actual “Blood Star”, making notes where the missing gems should go, along with the marble pieces that were much harder to place given the amount we had removed the previous summer. Incidentally, Dr. Quard-e-Lazim secretly took Dr. Forsythe and me into town to visit his uncle’s warehouse. None of the items stored there had been disturbed in the least, and I knew as long as we did not draw attention to this fact the items would remain safe indefinitely.

  By now you must be wondering when I will get to the real meat of all this. Am I not correct, William? Well, my dear friend, here it is. We succeeded in completely translating the aforementioned symbols, and I dare say our consensus as a team was that we did a remarkably accurate job. The message that Ricardo De Gallies had learned long ago from the scrolls was repeated nearly verbatim here. I say nearly because he never revealed the deities’ names he did not recognize, perhaps assuming that he had somehow made a mistake, or more likely, seeing even more demons on the shrine’s roster.

  I will now list them for you, along with their attendant gemstones positioned above each individual spire’s end. One of the cuneiform images seemed to be a small replica of the star, as we never found an alternate meaning for this particular symbol and it never repeated. It was as if the creators of the walls’ murals wanted to include a ‘snapshot’ of what this thing looked like. If in fact the truth, then the gemstones’ actual sizes are mind boggling to say the least, measuring four to five meters in height and at least half that wide across. Each one slightly thicker than a meter, it gives new meaning to the word ‘priceless’, does it not?

  I stated earlier that the star is a horizontal shrine, William, and this alignment of deities and their spires can be compared to a compass. We will start with the shrine’s northernmost position. The name transcribed here is Jehovah, the well-known god of the Hebrews. We determined his gemstone to be amethyst. The northeast spire of the star is represented by Di-Guan—yes, the same ‘earth ruler’ in religious Taoism in China. His gemstone is fire opal. The eastern spire belongs to Mithra, the blood thirsty Lord of Persia. His gemstone is black onyx—very fitting, I would say. We determined the southeast spire belongs to Bochicha, another blood lover from South America, near Columbia. His gemstone is Emerald. The southernmost position belongs to Shiva, which perhaps makes you wonder why only one aspect of this triune god made it here. Yet, if you consider that Shiva is the one member of the Indian Trinity most prone to violence and bloodshed, it makes perfect sense. Shiva’s gemstone is the ruby.

  The deity that holds the southwest position is called Talusha. We do not know much about this deity, other than several Indian tribes in the southeastern United States list this god in their mythologies. Talusha’s gemstone is sapphire. The second to last deity in the star is a goddess that occupies the star’s true western spire, and her name is Nyame. Surely you remember she hails from Africa. Even though more legends concerning her divinity originate from the Congo region, I remember we found a few references to her during our expedition to northern Africa, the last time you and I journeyed together. Her gemstone is diamond.

  The last of these deities is the Egyptian goddess, Sekhnet, who occupies the northwest spire of the star. Perhaps you were expecting Amun-ra or Anubis, but surely you know Sekhnet is no stranger to the darker traits that dominate this group. Remember how the ancient Egyptians took extra pains to ensure she was always appeased to avoid her anger? Her gemstone is topaz.

  So, there they are, William. One can only imagine what the world would be like if such beings truly existed, and were given free reign to do as they pleased in our dimension of reality, eh? Unfortunately, we did not accomplish much more that summer, although all of us were quite excited about our latest discoveries and vowed to delve deeper into De Gallies’ writings. I believe every one of us realized that as significant as our discovery in Karachi already was, it could be truly staggering if we located more artifacts to support the human culture that existed when this shrine flourished. Despite the certain gruesome nature of what we would likely learn [for the marble fragments were covered with heavy blood residue], we felt certain the shrine would only be an interesting anomaly amongst more established sites throughout the Middle East without this.

  I must admit that this past academic year was the longest in my tenure at the Institute. Not that I failed to dedicate myself to my students’ education as much as I ever have. But, I could not shake the feeling that my colleagues and I were running out of time, and we all needed to return to Karachi as soon as possible. As if a window of opportunity was closing, the longer we waited, the more likely this window would shut forever.

  When we arrived in Karachi at the end of May this year, just two months ago, my intuitions proved accurate. The Karachian government had steadily grown tired of our summer presence after several officials [including the magistrate, Makli Ali-Ferdossi] became immensely wealthy and powerful from the gem booty they seized from the site two years ago. Obvious to the entire team that this would be our last season there, we set out to make the most of our time, cataloguing and detailing every inch of the place. Yes, we had done this before. But now we worked around the clock, fearing we would be forced to leave at a moment’s notice.

  Ironically, the very thing I had always wished to happen did, less than a week after we arrived, on June 1st. Caused by another earthquake that took place in the area back in April, it exposed yet another chasm. This one much deeper than the one that led to our present project near the Chaukundi Tombs, its sandstone floor was nearly thirty meters below the earth’s surface. The chasm was located near Thatla, not far from Karachi. For the first month of its existence, no one ventured down to the bottom of the fissure. During the same week we arrived at our site, another team of investigators from Australia ventured into the bottom of the chasm and found a small room similar to the decorated antechamber in our site. Dr. Walter Amherst, the team’s leader, immediately contacted Dr. Quard-e-Lazim about the find. The two of them were close friends and they frequently shared such information with each other. Dr. Amherst was well aware of what we discovered back in 1984 and felt certain that our find and his team’s discovery were linked to one another.

  Dr Forsythe, Dr. Quard-e-Lazim, and I made a visit to this other site at our earliest opportunity. The Australians were more daring than us in that the ladders and walkways they set up were positioned much more precariously than ours. I believe all three of us nearly slipped and fell several times on our way to the bottom. As soon as we reached the floor, Dr. Amherst led us down one side of a corridor separated into two sections by the earthquake. At the southern end of this corridor was a room smaller than any of our site’s antechambers, and at first I was disappointed, as the walls bore only a handful of cuneiform symbols. Dr. Amherst directed our attention to the far left corner of the room, and when he did, my dismay disappeared immediately. The large vault sitting there astonished us all, and once we began translating the symbols inscribed on the vault, none of us could contain ou
r excitement.

  With six of Dr. Amherst’s stoutest assistants, we foolishly tried to lift the vault’s lid. This was no small matter as its dimensions were four by six meters. The lid would not budge, and not only because of the heavy granite used in its construction. Upon closer examination, we located six star locks along the sides of the large box. Until we could decipher the locks’ codes, the vault’s contents would remain a maddening mystery.

  I use the word mystery here loosely, William, because there was little doubt that the cuneiform symbols and Sanskrit inscribed along the vault’s sides indicated the object that I so dearly longed to discover was stored inside the vault. Indeed, the ‘ball of fire’ described here could only be the same object as De Gallies’ Cristal Del Sol. I know you probably think me rash in this judgment, that I perhaps deluded myself into finding what I so desperately sought. After all, you have always contended that the object at best was none other than an asteroid or meteorite that has surely disintegrated by now—much like our shared theory on the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah. Rest assured, my friend, this was not the case. Rather, the inscription was far too clear to be mistaken for anything else. Even the very name of ‘Elohim’ was carved in the granite. As so often true, the ancient legends we studied prior to this discovery were exaggerated, in that Elohim did not bury the weapon he used to destroy his children’s shrine in some far away place. Obviously, it was ‘men’ and not some ‘god’ who buried this thing, just three day’s camel journey from the shrine it was used to destroy.

  But there was more. The inscription on the vault contained a curse as well. Not like the personal curses you and I encountered on our trips to Palestine and northern Africa, but a curse on mankind in general. Perhaps it would be best to describe it as a warning. The ball of fire depicted on the vault’s side was likened to a two-edged sword. If any of Elohim’s children ever recovered this fiery item, then they would all be released from their prison in ‘Limbo’ and the “Blood Star” would be reborn. The warning seemed to also indicate that mankind could be obliterated from the face of the earth if this happened. Elohim would turn his back on the entire world, since the only means to bring this calamity upon the earth would be if man aided the deities’ rebirth into the earth’s plane.

  Now, before you move to write me off completely, please understand that my interest in all of this is strictly academic. I no more believe Elohim’s children are real than I do him. It would take incredible evidence before I would bow a knee to any entity, which I believe puts me a few steps to the left of even you, William. For, you could never denounce your Anglican faith, could you now? My fervor is, and always has been, for the wonders of the ancient world to be brought to light, studied and understood, and then displayed for the modern world to marvel and learn from. I’ve always said that the loss of our heritage as a race is the very worst thing that can happen to us, as you know.

  This was all that we would ever learn from the vault, much to my colleagues’ angst and mine. We certainly did not want to damage the vault itself in our desperate curiosity as to its contents, and we realized it might take the rest of that summer and beyond to figure out the locks’ codes before we could somehow hoist the lid. So, we left Dr. Amherst and his team that day and headed back to our own camp, a mixture of intrigue and frustration on our minds and hearts. Unbeknownst to any of us, this visit turned out to be a horrible mistake on our part in light of what soon happened.

  Unlike the contents of our site, the Australians were not able to keep their discovery a secret from Pakistan’s general public. They tried to disguise the plain truth of what they found, but this made matters worse. The Islamic zealots in the area quickly stirred their followers into a violent frenzy. By the end of the week, the site was attacked and closed, and the frightened Australian team was forced to flee Pakistan. I nearly cried when I heard this, knowing my quest for the Cristal Del Sol would most likely never be fulfilled. In my naiveté, I foolishly assumed our team would be spared this same trouble. We believed the magistrate and his men would protect us, despite loathing our presence. We reasoned they had much to lose, should Karachi’s constituents discover the source of their leaders’ sudden wealth.

  We could never have been more wrong, though we were correct in thinking our site would not receive an uninvited attack, like the site near Thatla had. What did take place, and that you have already discussed with me since it made the papers in England, involved our helpful young assistant, Omar Quadassi. By now, he was a strapping lad of fifteen years, and as cheerful as ever. We relied on him heavily over the past two years to run errands to and from the main city of Karachi for the odds and ends that we seemed to always run out of.

  On one such errand, June 10th, he did not return when we expected him. My colleagues and I were concerned, but not overly worried, since this was not the first time he had not shown up as anticipated. However, when he still did not return to our camp by the following afternoon we became quite worried. We were finishing our lunch break and set to return to the site to continue excavating another antechamber we had discovered earlier that week. Several of the Karachian servants came running toward us, excitedly shouting for us to come with them. They led the way back to the site, and near the entrance lay the badly beaten body of Omar.

  Dr. Quard-e-Lazim contacted the magistrate right away, and when Ali-Ferdossi and his men arrived, they performed a routine investigation upon the body and the immediate area. Keep in mind, William, their forensic and detective capabilities are nearly nonexistent. This exercise did not last long, and when complete they carried the body of our young friend away. Later that afternoon, an angry mob met us as we left the site for our dinner break. The mob threatened violence, when suddenly Ali-Ferdossi and his men returned. Speaking in a Pakistani dialect too excited for me to make out what they told the crowd, they were able to calm them somewhat. But I should have known by the look of horror on Dr. Quard-e-Lazim’s face that something terrible was about to occur, and that the magistrate would soon give in to the mob’s bloodlust.

  What happened next shocked all of us so badly, that I scarcely remember the actual sequence of events. The gist of what took place is this: the magistrate’s men immediately surrounded Dr. Forsythe and I, throwing us both violently to the ground and kicking and pummeling us with their fists while they bound our hands with handcuffs. If not for the pleading of Dr. Quard-e-Lazim, the soldiers could have killed us right there with the mob joining in with their clubs and rocks. Dr. Forsythe and I were taken to the local jail, which would certainly make London’s dungeons of long ago look like the Taj Majal by comparison. Left in our own squalor and filth for more than a week, we were brought before an Islamic court for sentencing. You and I also discussed this briefly when I first returned home, but at the time I was not ready to offer much of an explanation or description of what happened to Norman Forsythe and me. I am still not, but for your sake I will try.

  As I said, we were brought before an Islamic court, a ‘kangaroo’ assembly if you will, where we were not tried—just sentenced. Our crime, the court said, was the brutal rape and murder of Omar Quadassi, our young friend. For this, we would be beheaded the next day, June 20th. To say we were horrified beyond belief would certainly be the place to start in describing our reaction. It did not matter that we vehemently denied the charges, as the court adjourned as soon as our sentence was announced. The room was filled to capacity, and our only advocate was Dr. Quard-e-Lazim, who remained silently stoic amid loud cheers at the pronouncement of our impending executions.

  Dr. Forsythe and I were dragged screaming from the courtroom and returned to our filthy jail cells. I cannot speak for Norman at this point, but I refused the disgusting slop they offered for our last dinner. A thick wall and several other cells separated us, so the last thing we ever said to each other was right after our sentencing. I’ll never forget what he told me for as long as I live, I believe. He told me that if I somehow survived, to tell his wife Lois and their two lovely daughters,
Margaret and Flora, that he loved them with all his heart and that he wished things had turned out differently, so resigned was he to his impending death. To be polite, I told him to tell my Julia and my son, Alexander, the same thing. But, I am not one to give up while there is still breath in my lungs and blood pumping through my heart, as you also know.

  Sleep did not come easy that night, but when it finally did, I wondered if this would be the last time I would ever do so with the expectation of waking up again. Sometime before dawn I awoke, and at first I thought I was dreaming. Dr. Quard-e-Lazim sat beside me, urging me to come with him. Behind him stood a pair of men dressed in black robes and turbans. I stood up as best I could, for by then I suffered from malnutrition and proper rest. Not to mention lingering pain from the injuries I received the week before. We soon left my jail cell and moved quietly toward the building’s exit. Along the way, we passed Dr. Forsythe’s cell, and I motioned to stop and take him with us. But, the look Quard-e-Lazim gave me made it clear that I alone would be rescued. Despite my remorse for losing one of the closest friends I have ever had, I did not argue or resist Quard-e-Lazim’s direction, and soon the four of us left the building and climbed into a van idling nearby.