by Lee Burvine
Rees turned his flashlight on Danni's face. "Yes! You've heard about this."
Danni raised a hand to block out the glare. Rees quickly lowered the beam away from her eyes.
She dropped her hand. "Yeah, it made the rounds in the press a few years back. The Seventy-two virgins that Islamic martyrs are supposed to get in heaven. It was really a bunch of white grapes."
"Well, that's gonna be a bit of a letdown," Morgan said dryly.
Rees agreed with a little laugh. "That alternate white grapes translation was based on a radical idea. At least some of the Qur'an was originally selected readings from the bible for use in a Syriac Christian church service. Based on a lectionary written in Syro-Aramaic. The theory's hugely controversial. Or I should say it was."
Danni understood why it wouldn't be anymore. Not if someone had the frickin' book now, and you could compare passages word for word. She also understood why it would devastate fundamentalist Muslims.
"The Qur'an is supposed to have been dictated to Mohammad," Danni said. "Directly from God."
"Well, through the angel Gabriel, actually. But in God's own words." In his excitement, Rees was gesturing with the hand that held the flashlight. The swinging beam made shadows leap and dance around the accelerator tunnel. "To Muslims, the Qur'an isn't like the gospels are to Christians. It's more like, well, Jesus. The book itself is considered miraculous, an object worthy of worship. It's where you turn to understand what's right and true. To settle disputes. It's the literal word of God-who revealed it in Arabic, because that's the 'purest language.' And if whole passages of the holy and miraculous Qur'an were just cribbed from a Christian prayer book? One that was written before Mohammad was born? A book not even composed in Arabic..."
"Totally undermines the extremists," Morgan said. "It really could be the ultimate psy-op."
A thought came to Danni that raised tough questions. "So is that who's coming after us? Islamic radicals trying to stop the Kafir Project? But think about that. They have agents in the Defense Department? And at Fermilab too? I mean, that doesn't even seem possible. Is it, Kerry?"
"Well, someone got inside, that's for sure." Morgan frowned. "But no, I can't believe it's Islamic radicals either."
Rees had gained a few steps on them again. He seemed to notice, and slowed down. "I agree. There's something we don't have yet, some bigger piece of the puzzle. Which is why we absolutely have to talk to Herodotus."
"So who is he, already? Danni asked.
"An historian," Rees said, "like the original Herodotus. The Kafir Project needed someone with the best theories on where and when to point the time recording technology. And I think it's the man who proposed the whole lectionary idea. He's a tenured professor of religious history at San Francisco State University. Professor Burhan Kazemi. I actually have a couple of his books at home."
"San Francisco State is like a half hour from here," Danni said.
Rees nodded. "I think Professor Kazemi is Herodotus. In fact, I'd bet money on it. Fischer said that he'd have the data, the full time-recordings. We get our hands on that and we're halfway home."
"Halfway," Morgan said, "because we need the lectionary too. If we want to stop all this. We have to prove what they're trying to bury, whoever they are. And that takes both parts, right?"
In his excitement, Rees had moved ahead again. He spoke back over his shoulder. "Yes, definitely. We need the lectionary too. The historical evidence here stands on two legs or it falls down. The person Fischer called Anaximander is supposed to have the lectionary. And if anyone knows who that is, it's going to be Burhan Kazemi."
They'd finally reached the far end of the accelerator ring and Danni pointed out the exit coming up on their right. "That's the way up and out guys. That door there. So, assuming we can get past whatever police and security are up there, do we know where we're going now?"
"San Francisco State University," Rees said without hesitation. "That's what the note was telling us. Where to find Kazemi at work, and..." He stopped, seeming to catch himself. "But, uh, I leave it to Special Agent Morgan to make the final decision here."
Morgan went silent for a few beats. "I hate to say it, but this has moved way beyond just being my case. We all have to agree on this. But I'm with Rees. We get ourselves over to SF State and look up Professor Kazemi. Collect the time-recordings and find out how to get our hands on this book."
"It's a codex, actually," Rees corrected. Then added quickly, "Doesn't matter."
"Well, all right then." Danni strode ahead of them and opened the exit door. She stopped there in the doorway and turned back. "But if anyone else tries to shoot me, or freeze me to death, or otherwise kill me..." she paused, then continued in a snooty English accent, "I shall be very put out."
Rees gave her a funny look.
Morgan smiled at her.
The Princess Bride. She and Morgan had watched it together in bed one night, lying side by side. It was one of her favorite films.
Someday, Danni hoped, they would watch ittogether again.
CHAPTER 39
MORGAN'S LINGERING HEADACHE had Rees worried. But she seemed to be doing better as time passed. Now they only had to get to San Francisco State University and find Professor Kazemi without being arrested or killed.
What could be simpler? Rees thought, and the dark humor there buoyed his spirits a little at least.
Danni had just led them into the unfinished lobby of what she informed them would eventually be the main building for the accelerator complex. Livermore Labs had apparently ordered the construction crews away. The place was empty.
They crossed the plywood floor, and stopped inside the front doors.
Through the glass wall, Rees surveyed the scene outside. The rains had passed. The sun was shining on the muddy site, a handful of bright yellow, heavy construction vehicles, and a couple of temporary buildings that had been wired into the grid.
"We're going to need a vehicle," Morgan announced.
Public transportation was right out. TV astronomer Dr. Gevin Rees would be quickly recognized.
"What if we hot-wired that dump truck out there?" Rees suggested. "It's counterintuitive. Two of us get down on the floor of the cab. No one's going to imagine we're making our getaway in that thing."
Danni looked considerably less than impressed with the idea. "That would be like trying to sneak away in a ten thousand pound, diesel banana."
"Do either of you have any cash?" Morgan asked.
Rees shook his head.
"Not enough for cab fare, if that's what you're thinking," Danni said.
They all agreed using a credit card could trip an electronic feeler. Also that they should avoid Morgan's cellphone. The enemy, whoever they were, had her name now. Morgan removed the battery so the phone couldn't be pinged for their location.
"You know what?" Danni suddenly looked excited. "We don't have to pay the taxi driver. We have a gun. Kerry could make 'em take us over to SF State. What do you guys think?"
"I think that's the second time you've suggested carjacking with a lot of enthusiasm," Rees said. "This life suits you a little too well."
Danni's eyes flashed. "We're not gonna hurt 'em. Course we don't tell them that. You know, we make up a story. Like we're bank robbers or something, so they'll cooperate."
"And when the taxi driver calls the police to report where he dropped us off?" Rees asked. "Then what?"
Morgan kept on nodding, as if she were actually considering this. Finally she said, "Maybe that's not such a terrible idea."
Rees laughed, then stopped when Morgan kept the straight face. "Wait, are you serious? I think the diesel banana idea still rates better."
Morgan smirked. "I don't mean carjacking, Rees. I mean making up a story. Didn't you guys say we gave some cover story to one of the programmers last night? Who was that?"
Rees reminded himself there were still gaps in Morgan's memory. "Louis ... whatever his la
st name is. Timothy."
"Tyminski," Danni said.
"Tyminski," Rees echoed. "He thinks we're running a secret contractor fraud sting." And then it hit him, what Morgan was getting at. "Oh. Oh, I get it."
Morgan nodded. "We tell him that's why we need his help. Because he's already in on the operation."
"You want to get Louis to drive us to San Francisco?" Danni didn't sound too thrilled with the idea.
"Does he have a car?" Morgan asked. "Does he live nearby?"
"Well, yes to both, but..." Danni scrunched up her face.
"No, it really works, Danni." Rees found himself in full agreement with Morgan now. "We can even explain whatever he might have heard about us. It's all a frame up, we tell him. We'll say the corruption goes all the way to the Pentagon. Someone in power is trying to take us out. That's not even very far from the truth."
"Is he into conspiracy theories?" Morgan asked.
Danni sighed. "Actually, yes he is."
Morgan shrugged. "Well, there you go."
They all went silent for a time. Rees assumed that like him, Morgan and Danni were trying to work out if this was the right thing to do. They would be putting Louis's life at risk. Even if they didn't tell him about the Kafir Project.
But what other choices did they have? They needed more resources to get to Kazemi. And while he was keeping watch the night before, Rees had thought deeply about the Kafir Project. Why it was created and what it had aimed to do.
Was it really that insane?
What if the data and historical artifacts did strike a blow? Against groups like ISIS, and Boko Haram. Against the fanatics who flew planes into the Twin Towers, and England's 7/7 attackers. What if all this threw cold water on the people right now training to be human bombs? How many young Islamic men would line up to die for a partly plagiarized book, and the promise of white grapes?
Tangible evidence had been uncovered here, evidence that might in time change the world. But it could all disappear forever if they didn't do something to stop the men who killed Edward Fischer.
They had to find a way forward.
Danni spoke up. "Okay, two things. First, there's probably a land line in one of those trailers. We can call Louis from in there. I don't have my contact list anymore, but he's got the coolest phone number in the universe. It's area code nine, two, five and then phi."
"That is cool," Rees agreed. He turned to Morgan, "Phi is the irrational number that-"
"I'll take a rain check," Morgan interrupted. "Okay, Danni, what else? You said there were two things."
"Second ... he's gotta pick up a pizza or something. I'm frickin' starving."
"And we need coffee," Rees added. "Even if we have to hold up a Starbucks. I'm all right with using the gun for that."
LOUIS HAD BEEN in the terminal bay working on analysis of the fusion ignition data when the cooling system ruptured. It sounded like a squadron of fighter jets taking off inside the building. Shook the whole place. The secondary containment walls outside the Core probably saved his life.
That it happened less than an hour after he heard all about the contractor fraud seemed like a wild ass coincidence. At first.
Then he ran past the bodies.
Louis had never seen a dead body before, not in person. Never even been to an open casket funeral. So much blood. It looked kinda fake. But the smell, like piss and copper. Something about that smell triggered ancient instincts. They were real dead bodies, all right.
And even that didn't shock him like what he heard next.
Dr. Danielle Harris was a spy.
She stole classified data and sold it to the Russians. They told him that she came in that night to download more.
The Feds also told him how the hot DCIS agent with Danni, Kerry Morgan, had started all the shooting. In an attempt to escape a Defense Department sting, they said. How Gevin Rees got caught up in all of it no one had a clear angle on. Not yet, anyway.
Louis knew he'd have a hard time unwinding, so he popped an Ambien when he got home. He crashed out and slept until his cell phone ringing woke him up late the next morning.
The caller ID said local call, but he didn't recognize the number.
He answered. "Yeah, Louis here."
"Louis, it's Danni."
Danni's familiar voice instantly sandblasted the cobwebs from his head. The silence that followed wasn't from having nothing to say. It was from too many thoughts blurring by too fast. Danni spoke again before he could focus on just one.
"Louis, what did they tell you?"
His mind continued to race, but one word repeated itself over and over in his thoughts. He finally managed to spit it out. "Bullshit."
"We weren't trying to bullshit you, we just-"
"Not you, Danni. Those Defense Department suits. Bunch a spooks. Talking about how you're a Russian spy. And Special Agent Morgan is a desperate criminal. Shooting up the place like a, a Mexican bandito."
"You know that's crap."
"Course it's crap. They were shooting each other! What the hell, man. And even our security guy Neery-harmless little dude-even he had to put one of 'em down. So like, what? Those are the good guys? Yeah, I don't think so."
"Good. That's good. Because we need your help, Louis. We really need it bad here."
He probably should have taken more time to think about it, but he was impulsive. Always had been. And anyhow he counted Danni as a friend. "Sure. Only one thing..."
"Okay."
"One more time, what the hell is really going on here?"
"Louis."
"Look, someone's seriously pissed at you guys. And it's not some defense contractor skimming money. It's more like some kind of, I don't know, Bourne Identity shit. With black helicopters and the whole deal. Right? I'm right, aren't I? So tell me the truth, Danni. Just tell me the truth and I'm in. Okay?"
The sound got all muffled then. It sounded to Louis like she had her hand over the mouthpiece, maybe checking with someone standing nearby. Probably Morgan and Rees were there.
Then she came back and gave him the truth. All of it.
It had to be the truth.
Because if you were making up a story that you really, really needed someone to believe? The line-
DARPA was trying to fight terrorism with a time machine...
That line would most definitely not be in there.
CHAPTER 40
SABEL ALLOWED HIMSELF a limp on the injured leg. He knew from experience that infirmities made normies a little uncomfortable. Which rendered them easier to manipulate.
And he was just about to do a lot of that.
Sure enough, in less than an hour at Livermore Labs he managed to schmooze his way to the spearhead of the rescue effort. In part by claiming a working relationship with one of the trapped agents. And then by looking a little scared, but goddamned determined to help his friend and partner.
They ate it up.
As he suited up in protective gear and breathing mask, Sabel thought again about how funny life was.
He knew what he and his kind were called.
Sociopaths.
People said it was horrible, despicable. Then they struggled to achieve exactly what he could manage with ease. Influencing people to do what you want. Get what you want, when you want it. Maybe all the hating at folks like Sabel just came down to fear of having to compete with something like a superior race.
He'd read an article once on how some psychologist found out sociopaths more or less ran everything. Captains of industry, political leaders, that kinda stuff-pretty much all sociopaths.
Didn't surprise Sabel one little bit.
* * *
HE ENTERED THE computer building with the first of the rescuers. Right off they found two guys shot dead on the ground floor.
One of those would be the Office man sent in while Sabel was out of commission. Popped by one of the security guards there. Sabel would've loved
to see how that went down. An Office man taken out by the equivalent of a mall cop. Had to be an interesting story there.
Over the next few hours, they worked their way through the rest of the building. And something called the Core.
But no Gevin Rees.
No Kerry Morgan or Danielle Harris either. One more dead DCIS agent downstairs. Why that guy had been taken out, Sabel had a hard time figuring. Probably he just saw too much.
He combed the building and the connected facilities with the rescue crews through most of the night and morning to confirm what he already suspected. They all got out.
Rees and the other two had managed to move on.
He returned the rescue gear and beat it. While he was hiking back to his stolen car, his burner phone rang.
He answered it. "Yeah."
"Yes, hello. I need to pick up a package for the office."
"You do, uh?" The Specialist. So they'd decided to bring him in. Sabel only worked with the Specialist twice before, but he recognized the voice. The man was being discreet, so he assumed the call wasn't getting scrambled through the Office's normal coms channels for some reason.
"Yes," the Specialist said, "I saw on the news there was an accident? I'm nearby. Looks like a real mess. Has the package been damaged?"
"As a matter of fact it's intact, but that delivery to you has been cancelled."
"Really?"
Yes, 'really,' dickwad. And how the hell do you not know that? "Yeah, sorry about that, sir. You should check back with the office, in case there's been a mistake."
"Yes, absolutely. Thank you."
Sabel disconnected the call with red flags flying.
The Office didn't make this kind of error. Which meant the Specialist was working for someone else. Well then, he just had to get to Rees first. Better for Rees too, if he did.
Sabel didn't feel deeply for anyone, of course, but he didn't have any special desire to see a man go through pure hell either. He was a live and let die kind of guy, like the song said. After all, death wasn't any big deal. You either moved on, or you weren't around to miss anything.
