Dawn Minus Two Minutes
Standing in P4’s star chamber,tears flowing down her cheeks, Serena watched the geodesic ceiling spin. The noise of the grinding, whirling dome was deafening, and she couldn’t hear what Conrad was saying. He was standing by the altar, motioning her to come over.
“Put the scepter in the stand,” he shouted.
She looked at the Scepter of Osiris in her hands and once again read the inscription to herself:Only he who stands before the Shining Ones in the time and place of the most worthy can remove the Scepter of Osiris without tearing Heaven and Earth apart. Was there ever such a “most worthy” moment in human history? Or was the Hebrew prophet Isaiah right when he said human acts of righteousness were like “filthy rags” before the holiness of God?
“Yeats was right, Conrad,” she said as she felt her heart sinking. “The Atlanteans were too advanced for our level of thinking. We can’t win.”
“I thought we agreed that the gods of Egypt were defeated once before,” Conrad said. He started talking faster, his voice rising. “Well, just when was that?”
Serena paused. “During the Exodus, when Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt.”
“Exactly,” Conrad said. “It was one of those cosmic events that changes cultural history, like a colliding meteorite changes natural history. If no Exodus, then no epiphany at Sinai. And if no Sinai, then no Moses, Jesus Christ, or Mohammed. Osiris and Isis would reign supreme, pyramids would dot Manhattan’s skyline, and we’d be drinking fermented barley water instead of cafe lattes.”
Serena felt her blood pumping. Conrad was onto something.
“The question is,” Conrad continued, eyes gleaming as if on the verge of a great discovery, “what was the straw that broke Pharaoh’s back and led him to release the Israelites?”
“Passover,” Serena said. “When the God of the Israelites struck down the firstborn of every Egyptian but ‘passed over’ the houses of those Israelite slaves who coated their doorposts with the blood of a lamb.”
“OK,” said Conrad. “Now if only there was a way to be more inclusive and extend the Passover to all races.”
But there was, she suddenly realized, and blurted out, “The Lamb of God!”
“Jesus Christ, you’re right!”
Conrad’s hands flew as he began to reset the stars on the dome of the chamber to re-create the skies over Jerusalem.
Suddenly the entire chamber seemed to turn upside down. But it was an optical illusion, she realized, as the heavens of the Northern Hemisphere suddenly flipped places with the Southern Hemisphere.
“OK, we’ve got a place on earth,” Conrad said. “We need a year.”
That was harder, Serena thought. “Tradition says Jesus died when he was about thirty-three, which would place the crucifixion betweenA.D. 30 and 33.”
“You’ve got to do better than that.” Conrad looked impatient. “Give me a year.”
Serena fought the panic inside. The Christian calendar was based on faulty calculations made by a sixth-century monk-Dionysius Exiguus. Latin for “Dennis the Short.” Appropriate, considering that Dionysius’s estimates for the date of Christ’s birth fell short by several years. Church scholars now placed the Nativity no later than the year King Herod died-4B.C.
“A.D.29,” she finally said. “TryA.D. 29.”
Conrad adjusted the scepter in its altar, and the dome overhead spun around. The rumble was deafening. “I need a date,” he shouted. “And I need it now.”
Serena nodded. The Catholic Church celebrated Easter at a different time each spring. But the Eastern Orthodox Church kept the historical date with astronomical precision. The Council of Nicaea inA.D. 325 decreed Easter must be celebrated on the Sunday after the first full moon of the vernal equinox, but always after the Jewish Passover, in order to maintain the biblical sequence of events of the Crucifixion and Resurrection.
She shouted, “Friday after the first full moon of the vernal equinox.”
“Friday?” There was doubt in his eyes. “Not Sunday?”
“Friday.” She was firm. “The resurrection was a demonstration of victory over death. But the most noble time had to be when Jesus was dying on the cross for the sins of humanity and forgave his enemies.”
“OK,” he said. “I need the hour.”
“Scripture says it was the ninth hour,” she said.
He looked at her funny. “Huh?”
“Three o’clock.”
Conrad nodded, made the final setting and stepped back. “Say a prayer, Sister Serghetti.”
The geodesic dome spun round and locked into place, re-creating the skies over Jerusalem circaA.D. 29 at the ninth hour of daylight on the fifth day after the first full moon of the vernal equinox.
“But now a righteousness from heaven, apart from the law, is revealed,” she prayed under her breath, repeating the words of St. Paul to the Romans.
A sharp jolt rocked the chamber and she jumped back as the floor split open and the altar containing the scepter dropped down a shaft and disappeared. Before she could peer over the ledge, the shaft closed up into a cartouche bearing the symbol of Osiris. And she could hear something like the peal of thunder rumble below.
Suddenly it was eerily quiet. Serena could hear someone sobbing. It sounded like a young girl. She felt a tear roll down her cheek and realized it was her. For some reason she felt clean inside, as if all her worries and fears and guilt had been washed away.
“You did it,” she said, embracing Conrad. “Thank God.”
“How about when we get out of here?” he said when a deep, disturbing rumble echoed all around, inside and out.
Serena grew very still. “What’s happening, Conrad?”
“I think we’re about to be buried under two miles of ice.”