THE LAST ARK

CHAPTER 11: PENANCE CAVE

Wadi al Qilt, West Bank Five Days Before Temple Ceremony

“Where are we?” Derek asks, coughing to clear his throat. Covered in dirt, dripping in sweat, panting from the excursion, and grateful to be breathing clean air again, Derek stretches every limb. Aft er crawling through the barely passable tunnel for hours, falling down a shaft , and digging through a minor cave-in twice, they ended up in another cave. No Hyatt. “An old penance cave in the Wadi al Qilt,” the young monk responds, coughing to clear his lungs. “It’s nearly dark. Th e shooter will wait to check on us,” Derek says. “If we can hike it to Jericho, I have a car.” “No, I can’t leave,” protests Mordechai. “I made a vow. I would lose my chance to join the monastery.” “I hate to tell you, brother, but that shooter had a high-powered scope, which means he’s seen your face up close. If you go back too soon, not only will you face a bullet, but you’ll endanger others. Besides, I need your help to f ind Loir Sasson. We have a promise to keep.” Derek watches Mordechai’s eyes narrow in angst, dart back and forth in indecision, then fall to the dirt with resignation. “I’m sure Abbot Cirillo would never ask you to die for a vow,” Derek says. T he young lad slumps his shoulders and nods. “Good, now help me move a pile of rocks in front of that tunnel in case he follows us.” * Jericho, West Bank Five Days Before Temple Ceremon An hour later, Derek retrieves his car from a Jericho gas station, paying the attendant a generous tip before getting on the road. “How do we find Loir Sasson?” Derek turns his gaze to see Mordechai struggle before nodding. “I know Mr. Sasson. He has a bookshop in the Old City, in Jerusalem.” “OK, then that’s where we’re headed,” he says. “But first, I’m starved.” Derek pulls over to a street food stand with a small line, a good sign, then hands Mordechai a large shekel note. “Whatever you think looks good, get two. I need a moment alone to contact my friends.” After the monk gets out, a tap on the right stem of his frames conducts an automatic iris scan to verify his identity before opening a signal to WITNESS. His lenses are filthy. “WITNESS, connect me to Jester,” Derek orders as he watches the kid get in line. “Yo, flapjack, where you been, man? Why is the view so dirty? Hey, did you f ind SLVIA? When are you coming back?” Jester rattles off his questions. “Another innocent man died. I need you to pin a name on my reaper,” Derek states in a calm, even voice, ignoring the other questions. A pause on the line ends with a sigh. “Wow, another one, huh? You’re like a pied piper for dead people. Yeah, I’ll check into it, like, for sure this time, but you should head home.” “No can do,” Derek says, looking at the young monk buying food at the street vendor. “I have to keep a promise, and then I should stop to check on Jenn.” “Ah man, I liked you better before you got obsessed with women you can’t have,” says Jester. He hasn’t been himself the past year, feeling lost without his AI partner and conflicted over Jenn. SLVIA was the first AI to reach singularity, and he can’t let that go. Unlike most women, Jenn made a deep impression that won’t let go of him. “What happened now?” Derek questions, unsure he wants to open that can of worms. “Tons, but dig it, a NATO commander died when Cozy Bear cyber-jacked his SUV. Drove the guy off a cliff,” Jester says. “Like dude, first the admiral, now the NATO commander. And dig it man, dig it, he was investigating possible NATO staff involved with the SolarWinds hack.” SolarWinds was an example of a new style of hack, an inside job, gaining access through a normal software update. “Stay on it. Putin wants revenge after the fiasco in Ukraine. Check the software update industry for Russian H1 visa holders,” he says. “I’ll head back as soon as I fulfill a local promise. In the meantime, please try to ID my stalker before someone else dies.”