Baphomet's Meteor (1972.DAW No. 35) Page 6

  “Speak, venerable Master, I am yours to command.”

  “Like us, you are initiated in our mysteries and you know of the existence of the effigies called Baphomet. You cannot be ignorant of the fact that they enable us to hold converse with the true Baphomet over considerable distances. How do you explain this strange facility?”

  The chaplain meditated a moment before replying.

  “I have examined these statues very attentively. Their carapace conceals a delicate and subtle installation. It has been impossible to study them in detail because you have never permitted me to push my investigations further. Nevertheless, I have made some interesting discoveries. . . .”

  “Speak on, my friend. You will be generously rewarded if one day you can explain how these mysterious effigies operate.”

  “Very well. The words of Baphomet reach us without hindrance through the air: if the statue is placed inside a cupboard, the words grow a little fainter, to cease completely once the helmet is hermetically sealed. Steel, therefore, is an impassable barrier for the messages which we receive from the Grand-Orient Forest.”

  “Interesting,” approved the Marshal. “But where does that lead us?”

  “For the time being, nowhere. Take note, however, that a huge metal wall set up around the pond would prevent Baphomet from talking with anyone.”

  “And consequently with his compatriots,” cried the Grand Master. “You see? Already one fascinating discovery. Is that all?”

  “Nay! I have also noted that when a sword is placed above the machines contained in the interior of the Baphomet-image shell, one hears the words emitted much more clearly. I have concluded that the metal concentrates the diffuse messages coming to us through the air.” “More than interesting, Brother Joubert! Proceed, I conjure you...

  “Further, it is apparent to me that the force which powers the functioning of the device comes from a very heavy box, cased in lead. It contains, most surely, a substance unknown to us. To study it, I would have to be able to examine it more closely."

  “You are authorized to do so: we must, at any cost, know the magic charms utilized and try to duplicate this artful engine.”

  “I will have a Turcopole, highly skilled in copper metallurgy, make a faithful replica of all the complex elements worked from that metal that are in the effigy. If I can pierce the secret of the box, I will undertake to produce a similar machine, all the more since that is what you wish. However, this concerns an extremely hermetic alchemy.” “You are well-versed in the arcana of that science, are you not?”

  “That is true. I learned a great deal on this subject in the city of Montpellier. It was possible for me to discuss it at length with Amaud of Villeneuve and the master, Albert Magnus. All of them think that metals are constituted from one unique and fundamental matter called sperm metal. With that it would be possible to reproduce all the different metallic structures. . . .”

  “In a way, the philosopher’s stone?”

  “Exactly. However, their realizations are not absolutely convincing. On the contrary, during my stay in Syria, I chanced to encounter a Saracen apothecary and a story he told greatly excited me....”

  “Don’t stop there! We hang on your words.”

  “Well, according to him, a meteor fell not far from Alexandretta. Its remains, deeply buried in the sands, were difficult to get at. After harsh and painful laboring, slaves finally brought to light a kind of ship, all of metal, terribly damaged by the shock and by heat.”

  “Does this have to do with compatriots of Baphomet?” exclaimed the Grand Master.

  “There is a strong possibility of that. It is unfortunate that, unlike him, their bodies were altered beyond recognition. Everyone decided that this was an engine of the devil and the derelict was abandoned. However, this learned Arab continued the excavating and discovered a magic box which possessed the power to transmute objects placed inside it. I am convinced that this Arab understood very well the importance of this find and that he hid the strange machine with great care....”

  “Why didn’t you seek a way to lay your hands on it?” “Well, simply because the apothecary affirmed that the device had quickly lost its powers. But, on reflection, I am persuaded that it would now be possible to make it function again by connecting it to the box which makes the effigies of our Baphomet speak.”

  “Marvelous! Brother Joubert, I congratulate you: you are promised the highest positions in our Holy Order. What is the name of this Saracen?”

  “Djaffar...

  “If I understood rightly,” the chaplain continued with a modest air, “all our problems will be solved with this machine because it will be possible to manufacture the unknown metals we lack. Thus, we will have boxes producing the power necessary for speaking over distances and even—who knows?—the means for making those spheres which contain the lightning in their bosoms....”

  “I must have this philosopher’s casket,” howled William of Beaujeu. “With it to solve all our problems, we will be free at last!”

  “Brother Joubert’s discourse certainly was most interesting,” interjected the Templar Marshal. “Still, these are only words. There is no proof this Arab was not simply boasting. I know them: these clods always claim to be well-versed in hermetic arcana; nevertheless, Bibars’ treasure most certainly never came from their crucibles....” Peter of Sevry, in fact, had always been jealous of the chaplain and claimed that a good sword prevailed over all the science in the world, which assumption had been proven by recent events to be utterly false. He wanted to oust a dangerous competitor and looked disapprovingly on so much importance being given Brother Joubert.

  The Grand Master was well-aware of these battles for precedence and he curtly put the Marshal in his place.

  “I am in no way of that opinion: Brother Joubert never speaks without weighing his words. This machine certainly exists and therefore I order that the course for Alexandretta be kept. There, we must lay hands on this Djaffar, and make him talk to find out where he has secreted this treasure. I hold you personally responsible for it, Peter of Sevry. We must also give our chaplain every facility that will enable him to carry on his fascinating labors. Now, my Brothers, I have need for meditation. Good night, and may the Lord bless you and keep you. . .

  Alone, William of Beaujeu leaned his elbows on the casement of the cabin which he occupied on the poopdeck of the vessel. It was night and countless stars glimmered in the sky.

  Thoughtfully, the Grand Master reviewed what Baphomet had told him. If what he said were true innumerable peoples throughout the heavens inhabited worlds similar to Earth. And the latter was only a large ball that revolved around the sun ... a strange concept contradicting the ideas held up to that time. Most people believed, actually, that their world was flat, edged with oceans, prevailing coasts of the unfathomable deep. On the contrary, if the Earth were spherical, it should be possible to sail to the east or the west and again reach the point of departure! The empire of Cathay, situated at the end of the known world, would prove to be, in fact, halfway to France. An hypothesis easy enough to verify when that empire was his: he must equip vessels and send them across the Cathay Sea in an effort to reach France or Portugal. All these things passed understanding. ... If they were true, mankind made up only one human race among countless others. What was an Earthly empire in comparison with the countless others existing in space? What strange creatures made up immense stellar confederations? What was their goal? Was an invasion imminent? To face such, arms as powerful as those of these creatures of the dark were needed, and craft able to navigate among the stars.

  A conclusion forced itself upon him: the Templars had a sacred duty to humanity, since they alone held these formidable secrets. In the future, therefore, it was essential that scientific research of consequence be undertaken by savants of all nationalities. Strict orders must be given to spare their lives in all occupied countries and, in particular, those in the empire of Cathay who, according to many reports, were considerably advanced in many fields.

  One man would be especially valuable in the carrying out of this mission: a Venetian named Marco Polo who had lived since 1271 in the Cathay empire. His knowledge of the people of that locality and of their civilization would be extremely useful in establishing that future university where scholars of all nationalities would be assembled under the aegis of the Templars. For the present, all depended on Brother Joubert. That monk possessed remarkable intelligence and an alert perception. He never spoke imprudently, contrary to what Sevry thought. If he had called attention to the existence of this casket with marvelous powers of transmutation, there was no question of its reality; perhaps he had even seen it in operation. ...

  William felt weary: few men before him had borne such a crushing responsibility. If he succeeded in his task, the people of the Earth would be united and leave off fighting among themselves. The scholars of all nations would work together for their well-being and for their protection against possible incursions of beings from other worlds.

  An exciting prospect.... However, no one would believe that the Grand Master of the Templars acted thus but for the well-being of his fellowmen and the glory of his Lord.

  William knelt at the prie-dieu and murmured:

  “Not us, Master, not us, but to the greater glory of Your name. . . Then he added: “And peace on Earth to men of good will....”

  CHAPTER IV

  ☆

  The fleet reached port without suffering any loss. A few fugitive enemy galleys followed at safe distances. Obviously, news of the victory won by the Templars had already reached the Mamelukes occupying the Princedom of Antioch. The stupefying power of the new weapon unveiled at Jaffa made the sultans and the Mongol Khans extremely cautious: each wondered who would be the target for the next attack.

  The Crusaders were greatly surprised when they noticed that the Grand Master had secretly changed his plans: instead of casting anchor off Alexandretta, as announced, the invading forces landed at the mouth of the Orontes in the small harbor of Saint-Simeon.

  William had chosen to proceed in this manner precisely because he wanted to spare Alexandretta, where the famous Djaffar must be located. It was likely that the arrival of the Templars’ fleet would have panicked the inhabitants who would have fled, carrying their treasures with them. Then it would have been impossible to ferret out the precious casket This was a strange repetition of the past: here it was— long ago—that a Genoese fleet bringing reinforcements to the Commanders of the First Crusade, had dropped anchor.

  While the supplies were being unloaded, the Grand Master formed an elite corps equipped with numerous spare horses, slings and a few atomic grenades. His Seneschal, second in command of the expedition, took charge of this detachment and immediately set out for Alexandretta, without even waiting for the main body of the army to assemble.

  The knights headed north, riding night and day. Among them were Brother Joubert and the Tholon brothers who, as usual, understood little of what was happening.

  Thus, they reached the outer fortifications quite unexpected. A grenade blew down the main gate and the Templars charged into the city, surprising all the inhabitants. No one had time to flee, so sudden was the attack. However, the warriors found baggage packed and camels loaded; in a few hours many would have been miles away.

  At once, patrols were sent into all the streets in search of Djaffar, each having a Turcopole translator and a detailed description of the man they were trying to find. Naturally, the soldiers would much rather have preferred to enjoy a well-earned rest after their wild ride and did not hide that fact.

  “God damn!” Guiot-the-Red swore. “What a bitch of a life! My arse is raw after that crazy ride. The Grand Master must be mad for this Djabar. . . .”

  “Djaffar,” his Templar brother corrected. “Most assuredly, this unbeliever possesses some important secret, since he must be taken alive.”

  “I wonder what it is he knows. Perhaps it’s something to do with the lightning that demolished Bibars,” Clement threw in.

  “I would be astounded,” answered Garin, “if the infidels possessed that fearful secret, else they would have used it against us.”

  At that moment, the patrol of which the three brothers were a part came to a halt at the mouth of a dark and narrow alley.

  “Well, we’re here,” said Red-Beard. “Where do we begin?”

  “First, we are going to search the houses on the right. Squires, guard each end of the passageway and see that no one escapes. You, Arsouf, follow us.”

  The Turcopole placed himself behind the Templar, who knocked at the first door. After a few seconds’ wait, a frightened Saracen face peeked out. The interpreter questioned him, asking him if he knew where a celebrated seer named Djaffar lived, translating both questions and answers, as needed.

  The man under questioning was visibly shaking, but was not a willing source of information.

  “The name sounded somewhat familiar. He had heard of a magus who resembled the description. No, he did not know where he lived. And he, only a modest craftsman, did not rub elbows with the great ones of this world.”

  At last Garin lost patience, half drawing his sword from its scabbard; this stimulated the Saracen’s memory a little.

  “My neighbor, I am quite sure, will be able to answer your questions, my noble Lords,” he managed to say. “He belonged to the Emir’s entourage—may Allah curse that coward who, himself, put an end to his days—and this Ghazi knows all the learned men of the city.”

  Thereupon, the three brothers went to the door of the indicated house. This time a servant came to admit them and conduct them to his master, in a room strewn with opulent carpets. That learned man was studying Koranic scrolls and neither showed fear nor fawned on the Christians.

  To their first question he readily answered that he indeed knew Djaffar very well, a widely respected seer, who possessed miraculous medicines effective against a host of maladies. He lived close by, just at the end of the alley.

  Garin thanked him politely and the Tholons made for the indicated house. The door-knocker, a copper snake biting its tail, surprised them a little, but not as much as the inside of the house. Djaffar’s lair, a large cell with whitewashed walls, contained countless stuffed animals, retorts, pallets, red-hot furnaces under vessels whose boiling contents filled the air with loathsome vapors.

  “A sorcerer, without a doubt,” grunted Guiot, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

  Bent over a ceramic container, a man still young but with a back bent by years of study and research, was vigorously stirring a greenish mixture. He did not pause when the Frankish warriors came in, but readily confessed that he was truly Djaffar. The admission caused expansive smiles to alter the faces of the three brothers. Garin asked him then if he still had the casket discovered in the desert sands. The Saracen nodded, making a sign to an assistant to watch his preparation while he moved to a coffer, ornate with allegorical designs. He pressed the central pattern—a salamander belching flames—and the cover slowly hinged upward, revealing a simple parallelepiped of silvery white metal.

  “This is the marvel from the heavens,” the sage declared tersely. “Unfortunately, it lost all its magic powers, so I give it to you without regret.”

  The Templar at once had the precious object removed by his squire, then bade the seer follow him, for the Grand Master was doing him the honor of holding converse with him. The Arab did not appear to feel especially honored by this invitation, but did not protest either, asking only that he be allowed to give instructions to his assistant for concluding the experiment still in progress. Garin willingly granted his request, but followed him closely, nevertheless, ready to prevent any rash action he might attempt.

  That same evening, escorted by a part of the fleet, William of Beaujeu dropped anchor off Alexandretta, so easily occupied by the flash attack. As soon as he set foot on land, he inquired about the search and showed the greatest satisfaction upon hearing its results and learning that Djaffar, and his precious casket as well, had been found. He immediately set out for the Emir’s palace, where the captive had already been taken.

  The brothers Tholon were awaiting the Grand Master, all proud to have accomplished their mission so well. And William of Beaujeu praised them highly. To reward them, he declared that the brothers would henceforth belong to his House. Whenever there was a delicate mission to be accomplished, he would call on them.

  This said, he dismissed them and proceeded with his interrogation of Djaffar. Brother Joubert was present and acted as interpreter whenever a word failed his leader.

  “You are truly the seer, Djaffar?”

  “That is correct, venerable Master.”

  “Then tell me—concealing nothing—the circumstances of your discovery of this casket and how you made use of its magic powers.”

  “It’s rather an old story now. Some five years ago, as I was studying the constellations of the Zodiac, I saw a fiery trail in the sky. It seemed to me that it came down onto the desert, not far from here. The next day, I inquired of the guards as to the location of its impact and they led me some distance from the city, toward the west.” “Therefore, you were the first to reach the spot?”

  “No, the soldiers of the guard had already tried to approach it, but the sands were so hot that they had been unable to examine it."

  ‘This is not the way I remember it," interrupted the chaplain. “At the time I met you, you told me that you had not gone to the place until later. ...”

  “There must be some slight confusion in your recollections, my noble friend: I went to the spot several times and the excavations were carried out under my supervision, by the Emir’s order.”

  “This is unimportant,” William cut him off impatiently. ‘Tell me rather what you observed.”

  “Well, as soon as the heat had subsided, the slaves started freeing this object fallen from the sky. I recall that they had to be whipped because they thought it was a thing of the devil; I was expecting to find a stone rich in iron such as sometimes falls from the sky. Hence, I was not surprised to see a rust-colored surface when the first layers of sand were removed. But as the excavation progressed, I discovered that I was wrong: the object was, in fact, a long cylinder ending in a conical cap, which shape could in no way be the result of change.”