Contract With God Part 35

'Stowe used to call it an ATER. Annoying Terrain Explorer Robot, but we call it Freddie.'

'Any special reason?'

'Just to f.u.c.k with Stowe. He was an arrogant p.r.i.c.k,' David replied. Andrea was surprised at the anger displayed by the usually timid archaeologist.

Freddie was a mobile camera system with a remote control that could be used in places where human access would be dangerous. It had been developed by Stowe Erling, who would sadly not be there to witness his robot's debut. In order to navigate obstacles such as rocks, Freddie had been equipped with treads similar to those used on tanks. The robot was also submersible for periods of up to ten minutes. Erling had copied the idea from a group of archaeologists working in Boston and had recreated it with the help of some engineers from MIT-who were suing him for going off on this mission with the first prototype, although this was something that would no longer trouble Erling.

'We'll put it through the opening to obtain views of the grotto's interior,' said David. 'That way we'll be able to figure out if it's safe to knock down the wall without damaging what's on the other side.'

'How can the robot see in there?'

'Freddie is equipped with night-vision lenses. The central mechanism throws out an infrared beam that only the lens can pick up. The images aren't very good quality, but they're good enough. The only thing we have to watch for is that it doesn't get stuck or tip over. If that happens, we're finished.'

The first few feet were fairly straightforward. The initial stage, although narrow, gave Freddie sufficient room to get into the cave. Crossing the uneven area between the wall and the ground was a little more difficult as it was rough and full of loose rocks. Luckily the robot's treads could be operated independently, enabling it to turn and circ.u.mnavigate lesser obstacles.

'Sixty degrees to the left,' said David, focusing on the screen, where he could see little more than a field of rocks in black and white. Tommy Eichberg was manipulating the controls at David's request, since he had a steady hand despite his chubby fingers. Each tread was operated by means of a small wheel on the controls, connected to Freddie via two thick cables that provided power and could also be used to haul in the machine manually should something go wrong.

'We're almost there. Oh no!'

The screen jumped around as the robot nearly tipped over.

's.h.i.+t! Be careful, Tommy,' David yelled.

'Take it easy, kid. These wheels are more sensitive than a nun's c.l.i.t. Excuse the language, miss,' Tommy said, turning to Andrea. 'My mouth is straight out of the Bronx.'

'Don't worry about it. My ears are from Harlem,' said Andrea, going along with the joke.

'You have to stabilise the thing a little more,' said David.

'I'm trying!'

Eichberg turned the wheel carefully and the robot began to cross the uneven ground.

'Any idea how much distance Freddie has covered?' Andrea asked.

'About eight feet from the wall,' David replied, drying the sweat on his brow. Each minute the temperature was increasing because of the generator and the intense lighting.

'And it has-Wait!'

'What?'

'I think I saw something,' Andrea said.

'Are you sure? It's not easy turning this thing around.'

'Tommy, please, go to the left.'

Eichberg looked at Pappas, who nodded. Slowly, the picture on the screen began to move, revealing a dark, roundish contour.

'Go back a little.'

Two triangles with thin ridges appeared, one next to the other.

A row of squares grouped together.

'A little further back. You're too close.'

Finally, the geometry was transformed into something recognisable.

'Oh, Lord. It's a skull.'

Andrea looked at Pappas with satisfaction.

'There's your answer: that's how they managed to seal the chamber from the inside, David.'

The archaeologist wasn't listening. He was focused on the screen, mumbling, his hands clutching it like an insane fortune-teller looking into a crystal ball. A drop of sweat slid from his greasy nose and landed on the image of the skull where the dead person's cheek would have been.

Just like a teardrop, thought Andrea.

'Quickly, Tommy! Go around it and then go forward a little more,' Pappas said. His voice sounded even more strained. 'To the left, Tommy!'

'Easy, kid. Let's do this calmly. I think there's-'

'Let me do it,' David said, grabbing for the controls.

'What are you doing?' Eichberg said angrily. 'f.u.c.k! Let go.'

Pappas and Eichberg struggled over the controls for a few seconds, knocking the wheel in the process. David's face was a vivid red and Eichberg was breathing heavily.

'Be careful!' Andrea yelled as she stared at the screen. The image was lurching around madly.

Suddenly it stopped moving. Eichberg let go of the controls and David fell back, cutting himself on the temple as he hit the corner of the monitor. But at that moment he was more concerned with what he'd just seen than with the cut on his head.

'That's what I was trying to tell you, kid,' Eichberg said. 'The ground is uneven.'

's.h.i.+t. Why didn't you let go?' David yelled. 'The machine's tipped over.'

'Just shut up,' Eichberg yelled back. 'You're the one rus.h.i.+ng things.'

Andrea screamed for both of them to be quiet.

'Stop arguing! It hasn't fallen over completely. Take a look.' She was pointing at the screen.

Still angry, the two men approached the monitor. Brian Hanley, who had gone outside to get some tools and had been abseiling down during the brief fight, drew closer as well.

'I think we can fix that,' he said, studying the situation. 'If we all pull on the cable at the same time we can probably get the robot back on its treads. If we pull on it too gently all we'll do is drag it and it'll get stuck.'

'That won't work,' Pappas said. 'We'll yank the cable off.'

'We've nothing to lose by trying, right?'

They lined up, each one holding the cable with both hands, as close as possible to the opening. Hanley pulled the cable taut.

'On my count pull hard. One, two, three!'

The four of them yanked the cable at the same time. Suddenly it felt too loose in their hands.

's.h.i.+t. We've disconnected it.'

Hanley continued pulling on the cable until the end appeared.

'You're right. s.h.i.+t! I'm sorry, Pappas . . .'

The young archaeologist turned away, exasperated, ready to pound whoever or whatever was in front of him. He lifted a wrench and was about to hit the monitor, maybe in retaliation for the cut he'd received two minutes before.

But Andrea came closer and then she understood.

No.

I can't believe it.

Because I never really believed in it, did I? I never thought it was possible you could exist.

The transmission from the robot had remained on the screen. When they had pulled on the cable Freddie had righted himself before the cable had become disconnected. In another position without the skull blocking the way, the image on screen showed a flash of something that Andrea could not understand at first. Then she realised that it was the infrared beam reflecting off a metallic surface. The reporter thought she could see the irregular edge of what appeared to be a huge box. On top of it she thought she saw a figure but she couldn't be sure.

The person who was sure was Pappas, who was gazing at it, hypnotised.

'It's there, Professor. I've found it. I've found it for you . . .'

Andrea turned towards the professor and took a photo without thinking. She was trying to get his first reaction, whatever it was - surprise, joy, the culmination of his long search and dedication and emotional isolation. She took three shots before she really looked at the old man.

There was no expression in his eyes and from his mouth there was only a b.l.o.o.d.y trickle that ran down into his beard.

Brian ran over to him.

's.h.i.+t! We have to get him out of here. He's not breathing.'

67.

LOWER EAST SIDE.

NEW YORK.

December 1943

Yudel was so hungry he could hardly feel the rest of his body. He was aware only of dragging himself through Manhattan's streets looking for shelter in the doorways and alleys, never staying long in one place. There was always a sound, a light or a voice that frightened him and he would run, clutching the ragged change of clothes that was the only thing he owned. Except for his stay in Istanbul, the only homes he'd known were the hideout he'd lived in with his family, and the hold of the s.h.i.+p. For the boy, the chaos, noise and bright lights of New York were all part of a frightening jungle that was filled with danger. He drank from public fountains. At one point a drunken beggar grabbed the boy's leg as he pa.s.sed. Later, a policeman called to him from a corner. His uniform reminded Yudel of the monster with the flashlight who had searched for them while they hid under the stairs at Judge Rath's house. He ran to hide.

The sun was setting on the afternoon of his third day in New York when the exhausted boy collapsed in a pile of rubbish in a dirty alleyway near Broome Street. Above him, the tenements were filled with the sound of pots and pans, arguments, s.e.xual encounters, life. Yudel must have pa.s.sed out for a few moments. When he came to, something was crawling over his face. He knew what it was before he opened his eyes. The rat paid him no attention. It was headed for an overturned bin, where it had scented a piece of dry bread. It was a large piece, too big to carry off, so the rat gnawed at it voraciously.

Yudel crawled over to the bin and grabbed a can, his fingers shaking from hunger. He hurled it at the rat and missed. The rat looked up at him briefly and then went back to gnawing the bread. The boy grabbed a broken umbrella handle and shook it at the rat, which finally ran off in search of an easier way to satisfy its hunger.

The boy grabbed the piece of stale bread. He opened his mouth hungrily, but then immediately closed it and put the bread on his lap. He pulled out a filthy rag from his bundle, covered his head and blessed the Lord for the gift of the bread.

'Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheynu Melech ha-olam, ha motzee lechem min ha-aretz.'9 In the alley, a door had opened a moment before. An old rabbi, unnoticed by Yudel, had witnessed the boy battling the rat. When he heard the blessing of the bread from the lips of the starving child, a tear rolled down his cheek. He had never seen anything like it. There was no desperation or doubt in that faith.

The rabbi continued to look at the child for a long while. His synagogue was very poor and he could barely find enough money to keep it open. For that reason even he did not understand his decision.

After eating the bread Yudel instantly fell asleep among the rotting detritus. He didn't wake up until he felt the rabbi carefully lift him up and carry him inside the synagogue.

The old stove will keep the cold out for a few more nights. Then we'll see, thought the rabbi.

As he removed the dirty clothing from the boy and covered him with his only blanket, the rabbi found the blue-green card the officers had given Yudel on Ellis Island. On the card the boy was identified as Raymond Kayn, with family in Manhattan. He also found the envelope, on which was written in Hebrew: For my son, Yudel Cohen Not to be read until your bar mitzvah in November 1951

The rabbi opened the envelope, hoping that it would give him a clue to the boy's ident.i.ty. What he read left him shocked and confused, but it reaffirmed his conviction that the Almighty had guided the boy's footsteps to his door.

Outside, the snow began to fall heavily.

68.

Josef Cohen's Letter to His Son, Yudel Vienna, Tuesday, 9 February 1943 Dear Yudel, I write these hurried lines in the hope that the affection and love that we feel for you will fill some of the emptiness left by the urgency and inexperience of your correspondent. I have never been one to show much emotion, your mother knows this very well. Ever since you were born, the enforced intimacy of the s.p.a.ce in which we have been imprisoned has eaten away at my heart. It saddens me that I have never seen you play in the sun, and never will. The Eternal One has forged us in the crucible of a trial that has proved too difficult for us to bear. It is up to you to carry out what we have not been able to accomplish.