The Days of Peleg (85 page)

All of the subjects who had been rescued chose to stay with Abram, much to the disappointment of King Bera. He would miss their efforts as he attempted to rebuild his city.

In fact, the only people (other than his entourage) to leave with King Bera were Lot and his family. Nothing could have hurt and angered Abram more. But he had no right to interfere with Lot’s decisions, and, once again, he placed them in the Creator’s care.

Lot’s daughters looked back with tears as they left, and even Lot himself turned around once to wave good-bye. Only Lot’s wife kept her eyes fastened forward as she anticipated her return to the stimulating life that Sodom offered.

Melchiz'edek returned with Abram and his men to the Oak Groves of Mamre. There he visited with Abram and his family for several days, until he announced it was time for him to return to the City of Peace.

As Melchiz'edek prepared to leave, Abram spoke to him, insisting on giving him a parting gift.

“I am a businessman,” he said, “and I have been one since my youth. Although I left the world of commerce several years ago, I have always held a certain principle which I will never discard.”

Melchiz'edek looked at Abram, unsure of what was coming next.

“Whenever I have benefited from a transaction, or whenever I have obtained a product or service which has enhanced my welfare, I have always honored the man or company responsible for that product. This was a practice which the founder of my family’s business, Reu, began, and involves returning a percentage, or tithe, of the resulting profits. He established this during his initial franchising into Ur, and my father always insisted upon maintaining that tradition.”

Melchiz'edek began to slowly sense what Abram had in mind.

“As such,” Abram continued, “I have determined that your visit and message constitutes a service for which I could never repay. But since I must acknowledge that all that I own, and all that I have been blessed with, comes from the Creator, I must now determine where I shall allocate my tithe.”

Before Melchiz'edek could protest, Abram cut him off.

“I therefore bequeath unto you one tenth of all of my possessions, including my servants who will accompany you back to the City of Peace. I have nothing, that I have not received from
Yahweh
, and now that I have met His emissary, it is only right that I should honor him with the portion that is due.”

Abram motioned to servants who approached with sacks filled with grain, jewelry, wool, and selections of currency from the surrounding regions. These were some of the servants who would be accompanying Melchiz'edek. Abram was pleased that the number of volunteers had actually been
more
than ten percent.

Sounds of bleating and lowing came from behind as the rest of the servants brought groups of sheep, oxen, cattle, and donkeys. The pack animals carried even larger sacks on their backs which were also filled with grain and other valuables.

Melchiz'edek was overwhelmed but could say nothing. As he took in the enormity of the gift, he slowly began to realize just how wealthy Abram truly was. If all of this was just a
tenth
…?

Even as he desired to refuse Abram’s gift, he knew that he could never dishonor such a gesture. As with all gifts, which ultimately come from the Creator, he had no choice other than to humbly accept it.

Finally, Melchiz'edek spoke.

“I am indeed honored by your gift, and by the heart that gives it. May the Creator bless you and your family one hundred-fold as you grow in your knowledge of Him—and of His promises.”

Abram grasped Melchiz'edek’s arm and pulled him in for one final embrace.

“Use this gift to bless your people,” he said, “as they continue to bless the world with the message of the Creator and His Seed.”

There were several more embraces—and more tears—as Melchiz'edek said his farewells to Sarai and the rest of Abram’s household. And although Abram and Sarai still had no children of their own, Melchiz'edek knew that a child would someday be theirs.And he hoped to come this way again to see for himself—if he was still alive.

Eventually Melchiz'edek and his newly acquired caravan disappeared over the horizon, while Abram stood with his arm around Sarai, wondering at all that had occurred. There was something very special and very unusual about this Melchiz'edek. He was much more than just a messenger for Shem—and more than a man sharing the knowledge of the Creator. He seemed to have the mind of the Creator within him.

Later that night, as Abram walked alone under the stars, he listened intently in case the Creator had something to say to him. Eventually he realized that no audible message was forthcoming, but he soon became aware of a powerful truth which descended upon him; overwhelming him like a pounding rainfall.

The stewardship of the Creator’s
Amar
had been handed to him. The people of the City of Peace would do their part, but soon the Creator would make himself known by His involvement with those who would be Abram’s descendents.

Abram recited the
Amar
one more time in his mind, realizing that soon he would be called upon to add to it. He had no children, yet, but he knew that someday there would be at least one. And then grandchildren and great-grandchildren—and he determined that each one would be taught the Creator’s words exactly as he had received them.

He realized, as he thought of the Creator’s promise, that he was beginning a new nation. He had never felt as if he belonged to the people of his home city; nor had he ever felt at home in any of the cultures of this world. He could never call himself a Chaldean—or a Sumerian. And he could never align himself with any of the peoples or “kings” of this new region.

The Creator was establishing a special nation—set apart from the rest of the world.

He looked up at the stars and pondered.

Peleg, son of Eber.

According to Melchiz'edek’s account, Eber had left his home city in response to the Creator’s command. Abram meditated for several minutes on all that he had learned and slowly came to a decision:

From this day forward, his family and their descendants would be forever known as the People of Eber.

He studied the glittering heavens and suddenly
knew
—beyond any possible doubt, beyond any conceivable thought to the contrary; and with the same certainty that he was alive, or that the sun would return the next day—
knew
that the number of stars he could see with his eyes was just a tiny fraction of the number that the Creator had actually made—and that filled His universe.

Chapter 41

Passage

“Only those deeds, done in the service of the Creator, will last.”

T
he Cult of Inanna, Queen of Heaven, continued to spread throughout the world, adapting slightly with each new settlement and culture. In the East, far beyond Indus, she was venerated as the sacred mother, Shing Moo. In the far mountains of the northwest there were legends of Hertha, the mother of the Earth, and along the shores of the Great Sea, temples to Attis, Diana, Proserpina, Ceres, and Hecate sprang up as new communities and cities adopted her story—which was invariably the same:

The Queen of Heaven had been impregnated by the gods and produced a new god-king with great influence over humanity. This new god-king was very demanding and wrathful, and could only be controlled by his mother. Only by worship and sacrifice (strangely, in the form of money or other gifts to the temple) could she convince her son to show mercy and use his power to benefit humanity.

Only in one region was there a major deviation from this account. In the southern deserts of Dedan, the semi-nomadic people called the Sabeans had no tolerance for a female leader or guide of any variety, so they changed her gender. He was still the moon god, but he was known as Allah, and he was revered for his fertility and prosperity for all who revered him. He was the father of
three
divine children.

There was truly, only one purpose for the spread of this cult. It was designed to saturate humanity with a legend which would pre-date the arrival of the
Zeh-ra
, and sow confusion and mistrust wherever the true message of redemption was told.

These were also the days of great god-kings: men of influence who claimed to be descendants of the Queen of Heaven, and rose to power with great speed and ruthlessness, often reigning for more than a century. It was difficult for the average person to dismiss their claims, since they inherited great longevity, and all could see that they were often two or three times the age of their most elderly subjects.

It was also a time of great turmoil as some cultures made great advancements in science and innovation, while others degenerated into ignorance, forgetting all that their predecessors had known. Great wars constantly plagued the earth as nations continually tested one another’s strengths.

Finally, it was a time of great climatic upheaval as the deserts in the south grew at an ever-increasing rate; their moisture disappearing into the north where it became imprisoned in the vast ice sheets which were now spreading inexorably across the very regions into which humanity was attempting to migrate.

As had been predicted, the day came when
šeg
fell on the very mountains that Peleg had traveled—and, in the years that followed, was finally experienced in the plains of Shinar.

Shem hated writing.

It wasn’t the
act
of writing that he despised—it was the
concept
that frustrated him.

It only served to weaken the memory. Throughout his life, great compositions and diaries had been communicated orally, and it was assumed that the listener would retain every word after the first hearing.

So much had changed, Shem thought with a sad shake of his head. Humanity could no longer be expected to recall large quantities of information, and now that there was such an ever-expanding variety of languages, maintaining an oral tradition throughout the confused and degenerating human race was impossible.

With a sigh, Shem returned to his stylus and continued marking the papyrus in front of him. He was visiting a newly formed library in Kemet, and had decided to create as many written records as possible, and donate them.

The curators welcomed the obviously aged man who spoke so many languages, and gave him a place to work. The people of Kemet valued elderly visitors from the Mesopotamian cities; partly because of the intrigue they had for the people of the northern lands and their amazing longevity, and partly because of an integral admiration which their culture held for all things aged.

They had their own version of the legends of the “Watchers”, and many believed that long-lived visitors from Shinar were descendants of the long lost race. They called them
Urshu
, and it was very difficult for Shem to dissuade them that he was simply an ordinary man. However, he could never quite bring himself to explain his true identity in the history of the human race.

Shem began writing, and the first item that he had produced, of course, was the Creator’s
Amar
—in seven different languages. He had then taken the writings and calculations of Peleg and produced an account of the
Urbat
and its travels, including details of the south polar passage and precise maps of the continental outlines which Peleg had created. It was entitled, “
Hydrographic Treatise of the Great Discovery’s Urbat: Cartographs and Surveys of its Circumnavigation with Southern Transpolar Passage
”
by Captain Phaxâd and Chief Cartographer Peleg
.

No one had ever heard of the
Urbat
, and few vaguely remembered tales of the Great Discovery, but in the years and decades that followed, visitors from many lands were inspired by this account, and numerous exploratory expeditions set out from the ports of Kemet, Minoa, Dedan, Indus, and even the new Greek settlements to confirm and build upon the information it contained, and to chart new maps and shipping routes.

After Shem had placed Peleg’s book in the library, he began transcribing the diary of his sister-in-law, Amoela.

She had been the wife of his brother, Japheth, and had studied history under his great-grandfather, Methuselah, himself a great historian. (A brief wave of sadness struck Shem as he recalled how Methuselah, in spite of his great learning, had refused to accept the
Zeh-ra
. Although he was the oldest man to have ever lived, he
could
have lived much longer. Shem remembered the shuddering inside of the rising, tilting ark and listening to the pounding floodwaters, knowing that his great-grandfather—and his friend—was about to be consumed by them.)

Amoela’s diary recorded, in great detail, the almost two thousand years of human history before the Great Deluge. Shem’s mind attempted to return to that world as he converted her words to print. There were accounts of the great Family Wars, the attempted extermination of those who taught of the coming
Zeh-ra
, and, more recently, the arrival of the
Nephilim
in their great golden airships, pretending to be life from other worlds—before they began their systematic enslavement and perverse hereditary experiments.

It had all been a great illusion, but Shem recalled the terrifying nights when his father and brothers wondered when they would come for them. Providentially, it had never happened.

Her son, Javan, had actually transcribed Amoela’s diary into writing, once before, but Shem had heard that he had placed it in her hands when she was buried. It was too inconceivable that future generations might actually discover her remains and her writing, so Shem dutifully translated her words into the languages of both Kemet and Sumer in hopes that future generations would benefit from her wisdom.

During his years in Kemet, Shem occasionally still received information from other lands, including news that Abram had finally been blessed with a son, Isaac, who had recently married. Abram’s new nation was slowly growing, and Shem was confident that the truth of the
Amar
would soon be spreading as His nation multiplied according to His promise.