The 13th Tablet

‘You haven’t changed one bit. The same wide-open eyes, as driven and passionate as when we met at Harvard.’

‘Dr… Moshe, we need to talk.’

‘You seem quite out of sorts my dear. Does it have anything to do with the tablet you found?’

‘Well, yes.’

‘Let me make you some tea first and then we can sit comfortably and talk.’

He had not said much but his Eastern European Yiddish accent was quite distinctive under the British veneer.

‘I thought you were Israeli?’ she asked. ‘Your accent has more Yiddish in it than Ivrit.’

‘Is it that obvious?’ He wrung his hands and said, ‘Oy smeir.’

She laughed at his impersonation of an Eastern European Jew.

‘Actually, I was born in Israel in a very orthodox family. Tell me about yourself while I make us some tea.’

‘You’re doing well Mina,’ thought Jack.

Mina sat back in her armchair and looked around the library. She was struck by its large wooden tables, where she guessed many students and scholars came to pursue their research. There were a few thousand volumes in this room alone. Row upon row of beautifully bound books covered all the walls, resting on mahogany wood shelves. Dr Shobai poured her a cup of Assam tea.

She took a sip and said, ‘You have a magnificent collection, Dr Shobai.’

‘Please call me Moshe, Mina. We’re scholars, not administrators.’

Mina felt totally at ease with this sympathetic old gentleman. ‘Jack is completely paranoid,’ she thought.

Back in the car, Jack felt the meeting was proceeding well. Still, he was tempted to beep her to remind her to keep on her toes.

‘So, do you have the tablet here?’

‘Unfortunately no. To cut a long story short, it was stolen from me.’

‘How awful. I suppose Iraq is going through a terrible time right now. With all the lootings.’

‘Yes.’ She decided to let him believe it had been stolen in Iraq.

‘If you want my opinion, it’s good riddance, Mina.’

‘I’m sorry Moshe, but could you explain what you mean? You’ve been cryptic about this tablet since the beginning and I want to know why.’

‘Well done,’ thought Jack.

‘Well,’ said the old scholar, ‘the moment I read the rough translation you sent me and the description of how the stone tablet was dissimulated inside a clay case, I made the connection with an account I read years ago in a late 16th century manuscript kept in Coimbra, in Portugal.’

He took a sip of tea and went on. ‘The main text was a complex kabbalistic commentary on a sephirot on God’s Gevurah Shebechesed. It is an aspect of God which means ‘strength’ and ‘kindness’.’

She shuddered. Mina remembered Eli’s words, ‘God acts with the firmness and benevolence of a father who can see further than his children.’

Shobai continued, ‘In the margin was a cryptic sentence about a tablet written in Ur, a dangerous tablet, with which one could unravel God’s plan. Many men had sought this tablet in vain and had died in its pursuit. I remember wondering at the time if the men in question had died because of the tablet or simply had died vainly in a hopeless quest. But my main thought was that it was a dangerous text, something that shouldn’t be trifled with. That’s why I wrote you that email.’

‘But Moshe, if the tablet I discovered is the same as the one you’re talking about, which I believe it is, we have a text that enables humans to predict natural disasters. That’s a major breakthrough.’

‘Mina, I believe there are some things scholars should keep well away from. However good your intentions, what if it fell into the wrong hands?’

‘Even so, what is the worst that could happen?’ asked Mina.

‘I don’t think anyone should try to peer into God’s mind, for want of a better word.’

Mina was surprised at his response. Shobai had not struck her as a very religious man.

‘Don’t mistake me,’ he said quickly, as he noticed her expression. ‘The tablet was hidden for good reasons I’m sure. It’s an accident that this tablet was found. If it hadn’t been for the war and all the destruction, you may never have located it.’

‘One second you believe that the tablet can give its possessor the knowledge of God’s plan and shouldn’t be trifled with, and the next second you believe in accidents?’

Shobai laughed softly. ‘Mina, Mina. You’ve cornered me. I feel like a foolish young yeshiva student. Let’s keep away from theology. You’re alive, I’m alive, so obviously I must have been wrong about the tablet. Maybe it isn’t that dangerous.’

‘My god, the man is more slippery than an eel,’ thought Jack. ‘He jumps in and out of arguments.’

‘What I wonder, Mina, is why you came to talk to me, here in London. Of course, I’m delighted to see you again. But why travel so far? Has something happened I should know about?’

Mina was troubled. He was asking obvious questions, but she didn’t like the turn the discussion was taking. She’d have to say something soon.

Jack said into the mouthpiece, ‘Mina, do not mention Wheatley. Don’t mention Cambridge.’

‘Well. I’ve found another text,’ she began.

‘Another text?’