Mesopotamia - The Redeemer by Yehuda Israely, Dor Raveh Read Free Book Online

merchant,
but only a few people were aware of this in Aleppo. Only those who
engaged in the black market trade with him knew this, and most of
these customers came from outside the city. As an antiques dealer,
he did not stand out with any particular skills, nor did he demand
extraordinary prices. But as far as his true trade went, the sale
of contraband merchandise, he was second to none in Aleppo. He
acquired this position mainly through his ability to keep secrets
and win his customers' confidence. The vagabond entered the
store.
    After shaking hands, Bakhnus said,
“Sit, Rial, have a drink and rest from your journey. Perhaps some
coffee? Cold coffee?”
    “Yes, cold coffee, thanks,” said
the stranger called Rial in a deep, melodic voice that bore no
signs of dust from the roads nor weariness of traveling. He gulped
the cool drink served in a large mug and praised his host on the
coffee's fine quality. Indeed, it was a rare blend.
    “Wait here a moment, I'l get what
you paid for in advance and be right back,” said Bakhnus.
    Bakhnus pulled back the curtain at
the edge of the store and entered the storage room. The vagabond
continued to slowly drink his coffee and observe the curious
objects around him: books made of tree paper, ceramic plates,
clocks with gears that had stopped and other collectors' items that
had been out of use for years. Bakhnus returned with a package
wrapped in brown plastic fastened with straps. The vagabond peeked
inside the package, smiled in satisfaction and retied it. Bakhnus
fastened the package with another two strips of plastic to form a
harness.
    The vagabond slid his arms into the
straps and hoisted the bundle onto his back. He parted with the
merchant and exited once more into the alleys of the Aleppo kasbah.
This time, a string of children trailed after him in hopes that his
package contained money, or that he would at least throw some candy
in their direction. He ignored them and they gave up their
attempts. After exiting the city gates, he marched alone southbound
on the dusty path.
    The aircraft stood unscathed,
concealed inside the thicket not far from the city. He neutralized
the electronic defense field and performed the pre-flight checks.
He changed out of his street clothes and donned his Gnostic
uniform, examined his appearance reflected in the shiny cover of
the cockpit and took off vertically, turning toward Baalbek. A few
minutes after passing Baalbek, he radioed, “father of the ship is
on his way back.”
     
     

CHAPTER 3

    T he yellow
kayak glided down the river. Thales sat behind Sophia. His sturdy,
solid body barely squeezed between the sides of the kayak. His
muscular arms rowed with powerful yet gentle strokes. His face was
round and pleasant, with a small dimple nestled in the center of
his chin. One eye scanned his surroundings with the vigilance of a
scout while the other never left Sophia. On either side of them
loomed the enormous canyon walls. Beneath them flowed the cerulean
water, teeming with leaping fish, and above them shone a red sun
amidst the purple Octavian sky.
    He gestured silently to direct
Sophia's attention to an eagle nesting in one of the crevices. She
exclaimed in awe as the eagle spread its massive wings, skimmed
across the water and returned to its nest with a silver fish
fluttering between its talons. The canyon walls were covered with
Maidenhair ferns that dripped spring water into the river. Bees
buzzed about their hive hanging from the red branch of a Strawberry
tree and blue beetles flecked with green spots rested atop the edge
of the yellow kayak. Thales dodged a granite boulder that had been
polished smooth by the water and increased his rowing speed in
anticipation of the waterfall ahead. On the left side of the
waterfall, the river veered to the left and he could see the edge
of the canyon in the distance.
    Thales treasured the time that he
spend in the company of Sophia on their rare excursions. He
relished the opportunity to