Free Ark of Fire by C. M. Palov

of the Tower of Babel.”
    “Perhaps I should retrace my steps.” Caedmon pushed his empty coffee cup to the side and positioned the camera in the middle of the table, enabling her to clearly see the photo of the jewel-studded gold breastplate. “Bearing in mind that everything I am about to say is mere speculation, I believe that this relic”—he pointed to the image on the digital camera—“or askema , as it is known in Hebrew, may have been the actual breastplate worn by the Levite high priest when he performed the sacred temple rituals. What makes the breastplate utterly priceless is the fact that it was created by Moses himself as directed by God. So although it’s not his actual handiwork, the breastplate is the actual design of God.”
    Edie, who had been silent up until this point, stubbornly shook her head. “But I saw it with my own eyes. It was just . . . just an old breastplate. You don’t really believe that that was designed by God?” She tapped the camera display for added emphasis.
    “Who am I to dispute the Old Testament prophets? The Bible is inundated with naysayers struck down by the wrath of God.” The droll remark left Edie in some doubt as to whether Caedmon Aisquith actually believed what he’d just said.
    “Since all that remains of the original breastplate are twelve stones and a few bits and pieces of gold, how can you be so sure it’s is the real deal?”
    “The relic would be easy enough to authenticate, given the detailed description in the book of Exodus. Conceived as a square design, it was originally composed of laced pieces of gold linen, inlaid with twelve stones set in four rows of three.” Grabbing the same sheet of paper she’d earlier used to draw the Jerusalem cross, Caedmon sketched out a design. “Based on the account in Exodus, I believe the breastplate would have looked something like this.” He turned the sketch in her direction.

    “As you can see, my artistic talent is rudimentary at best. Be that as it may, each of the twelve gemstones possessed a divine power. In the first row there was a sardius, a topaz, and a carbuncle . . .” As he spoke, Caedmon carefully wrote the name of each gemstone. “In the second row, an emerald, sapphire, and diamond . . . in the third row a ligure, an agate, and an amethyst . . . and finally, in the fourth row, beryl, onyx, and jasper. Rather gemmy, don’t you think?” He smiled slightly, making Edie realize that he was a handsome man. She didn’t usually go for redheads, but there was something uniquely appealing about the man sitting across from her. And, of course, the accent didn’t hurt.
    She glanced back and forth between the digital photo and penned sketch, suddenly able to see how beautiful the relic must have been eons ago. “Is there any significance to the fact that there are twelve stones?”
    “It’s highly significant,” Caedmon replied. “The number twelve symbolizes the completion of the sacred cycle. In the Torah, or the first five books of the Old Testament, it’s written that the twelve stones represented the twelve tribes of Israel. Just as each tribe had a unique function, the Levites being of the priestly caste, for instance, so, too, each of the twelve stones symbolized a hidden truth or virtue.”
    “Since emeralds are my birthstone, I know that they symbolize immortality.”
    “Rather ironic, what with the relic mysteriously appearing after so many centuries of being hidden away, supposedly lost forever.” The awestruck expression that Edie had seen when Caedmon first looked at the photo returned. “If the relic can be authenticated, it would be a truly astounding discovery, the Stones of Fire having disappeared from the pages of the Bible several thousand years ago.”
    She sat silent. Somewhere in the museum café Chinese food was being served; Edie could smell stir-fried vegetables and soy sauce. She swallowed back a queasy knot.
    “According to biblical scholars, the breastplate