Qayin hesitated, obviously ill at ease when it came to revealing anything about the book.
‘It came from here.’
Lourds took a bite of his trail bar and chewed quickly. ‘By here, you mean Istanbul?’
Qayin nodded.
‘Or do you mean Constantinople?’
A look of irritation flashed across Qayin’s hard features. ‘This city. That’s all you need to know.’
‘No, that isn’t all I need to know. Istanbul began as Constantinople, a city with a European history – that’s if you discount the Neolithic settlements and choose to begin with the Greek settlers from Megara. Then the Romans took over. After that, the Ottoman Empire arrived under Mehmed II. This city has constantly been torn between the east and the west, between Christian and Muslim, and marks have been left throughout the city on various pieces of architecture.’ Lourds tapped the paper. ‘This is a rubbing, and I’m willing to wager that it came from some building within the city. If someone went to the trouble to create a new language, then I need to know if the mind that created that language was European or Eastern or African in origin.’
‘You think this is an artificial language?’ the young woman asked.
Qayin didn’t look happy about her asking questions.
‘I don’t recognize this language,’ Lourds said. ‘I know all the languages of this region. But throughout history a number of people have created artificial languages to keep their secrets.’
‘Did you think the language that led you to the discovery of Atlantis was artificial?’ the woman asked.
‘For a time I had to consider that possibility, yes. As it turned out it wasn’t artificial.’
‘Then you could be wrong about this one as well.’
‘You should listen to me here. You’re out of your area of expertise.’ Lourds sighed. ‘We’re not kidnapping anyone here now. This field is where I’m expert.’
‘The way I hear you, if you don’t understand something, you can always cop out and just say, “This language isn’t real.” ’
‘Even an artificial language is real. Star Trek fans insisted that the Klingon language be made real. Tolkien invented languages for his characters, human and non-human. People are always creating languages. It’s one of the things we do that sets us apart from every other creature on this planet. We communicate via language. Look at cellphones. Only a few short years ago they didn’t exist.’
‘Maybe at your age they didn’t exist.’
Lourds ignored her snarky attitude and continued. ‘People had to come up with a name for telephones that were fully portable. The term “cordless” had already been taken. So people started calling them “cellular telephones” at first. That quickly became bastardized to “cellphones”, and that gave way to just calling them “cells”. Mention “cell” after 9/11 and many people think of terrorism. However, the cell terminology didn’t take in Britain. Over there, they call them “mobiles”.’
‘I’m aware of that. I’m not a child.’
‘I have no doubt that you’re aware of it. Your accent tells me you’re acquainted with Ulster. I’d go as far to say that you’ve been in Ireland often. Probably grew up there.’
From the way her face went blank, Lourds knew he had hit close to home.
‘But being aware of language and thinking about it are two different things,’ he continued. ‘Just because you know something doesn’t mean you’ve thought about it. Language was created to express thoughts and ideas, to hand down education and history, to paint pictures of things that could only be imagined. Words have such an ephemeral quality to them because language is so organic that many words quickly pass in and out of usage and disappear. Or the way they are employed changes. Take the word text. Until that function was created for cells, it was never used as a verb. Now when people think of a text, they don’t think of books. They think of electronic messages they receive on their cellphones.’
‘Professor,’ Qayin interrupted sharply, ‘you don’t have time to give a lecture.’
‘I wanted to make a point. Not only is language geographical, but the time a document was written is also tremendously important.’
‘You are running out of time.’
Lourds fixed the man with his gaze. ‘Fine. Then tell me where this rubbing came from and when it was made.’
Qayin’s hot, angry gaze held Lourds. All the fear the professor had been holding at bay returned in a gut-twisting rush.
You’ve just got yourself killed. Lourds tried not to be sick, but his mouth turned dry as cotton.
After a moment, Qayin said, ‘I’m told that the rubbing was taken from somewhere inside this city. The writing is from early in the second century after the death of Christ.’
The enormity of the statement settled over Lourds. Almost two thousand years had passed since these words were written. He focused on the rubbing.
‘This ought to be some form of Greek language, then,’ he mused out loud. He opened the water bottle and drank as he thought. ‘We’ve done a lot of work with Mycenaean Greek, Ancient Greek and Koine Greek. But we can’t rule out the possibility that this is some kind of proto-Greek.’
‘It’s Greek?’ Qayin asked.
Lourds shrugged. ‘Possibly. Some of the characters look familiar, but they’re not quite right. They bear some resemblance to Greek characters, but they’re unique at the same time.’
‘Why Greek?’ Cleena asked.
‘Because Greek was one of the primary languages in this area at that time: the language of the conquerors, of Alexander the Great. At the time, he ruled almost all the known world. When he put his people in place to hold different lands, they were trained to read and write in Greek. Conquerors build buildings. As a result, the Greek language is still scattered throughout Europe and parts of Asia. There was Latin as well, by then, but these letters don’t look Roman. I’m guessing they’re some form of Greek.’
Qayin and his followers listened silently.
‘When this rubbing was taken, was the inscription new?’ Lourds asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Qayin answered. ‘I was told it was taken soon after.’
‘Soon after what?’
Qayin shook his head. ‘What I know will not help you.’
‘I think I’d be the better judge of that.’
‘You’re not going to get to know any more. Now you tell me which Greek language this is.’
‘This isn’t simply any Greek language,’ Lourds said. ‘If it was, you would have already had it translated. But it does have its foundation in the Greek language. Of that, I’m sure.’ He paused. ‘If we can assume that the date this rubbing was taken was somewhere around the second century AD, then the root language would most likely be Koine Greek. That was in use from the middle of the fourth century BC to the middle of the fourth century AD.’
‘Then it is based on this language?’ Qayin asked.
‘It could also just as easily be based on the Mycenaean and Ancient Greek languages.’
‘Are those so very different?’
‘Of course they’re different,’ Lourds answered. ‘The Greeks were a culture of traders. They went everywhere across the known world. They were successful in what they were doing, which made other people want to be like them. The Mycenaean Greek language is the most ancient Greek language we can research. Several clay tablets were found in Knossos and Pylos, and those weren’t translated until 1952. It was pretty dry stuff, too. Mostly inventories and lists, accountants’ work. That language had seven grammatical cases, including the dative, locative and instrumental. Both the latter two grammatical cases fell out of favour when Classical Greek was born, and dative has been dropped from modern Greek.’
Excitement drummed through Lourds as his mind began grappling with the symbols. He could almost make sense of part of it, not what it said, but how it was put together.
‘Ancient Greek was also used heavily in Constantinople. Most of Europe stopped using it during the Middle
Ages, but after Constantinople fell to Mehmed II, the language flourished again for a brief time because of all the people that fled the city. Both Ancient Greek and Koine Greek were used in Constantinople.’
‘Was any one favoured more than the other?’ Cleena asked.
‘That’s an interesting question.’ For just a moment, Lourds felt a glow of satisfaction. Even here, at gunpoint, he loved being an instructor. There is something definitely wrong with you, my friend. ‘Rome preferred Ancient Greek because they thought it was more pure. Koine Greek was actually a blend of several Greek dialects with Attic, which was the language spoken in Athens. As I’ve mentioned, that language is spread primarily through Alexander the Great’s armies and it was spoken from Egypt to India. Early Christians adopted the Koine Greek language, possibly to differentiate themselves from the Romans and their gods, which were actually made over from the Green pantheon. The Apostles preached in it. That language also became known as the Alexandrian dialect, Post-Classical Greek and New Testament Greek because the Apostles wrote the New Testament in that language.’
‘The Apostles?’ Qayin asked.
Lourds nodded absently, still trying to wrap his thoughts round the language.
‘How can you know so much about this and still not be able to read it?’ Cleena asked.
‘Knowing something about the language isn’t the same as reading it. As I stated, language evolves, sometimes even from generation to generation. And if you have someone deliberately trying to disguise information, as I believe was done here, deciphering that language becomes even harder. If you consider the New Testament and its subsequent translations that have fractured churches and religions, you’ll get an idea of what I’m talking about.’ Lourds looked up at her. ‘Given the religious division between England and Ireland, I’d have thought you might have known that.’
‘Religion is a touchy subject.’
‘Let me give you another example. Have you ever written down a note, then gone back a few days later and seen it without understanding why you had written it?’
‘No.’
Lourds sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. ‘Well, I have.’ Far more times than I want to remember. ‘Just imagine that you have, and you can’t figure out why you wrote the note in the first place. Now, instead of a few days, let a hundred years go by. Or even one thousand, just to make things interesting. Do you think that someone a few generations, or several generations, removed from the original writer will understand the context of that message even if they’re able to read it?’
Qayin paused visibly before offering, ‘I will tell you this much, Professor: you are on the right track. I am told that this missive does indeed tie to one of the Apostles.’
Excitement inside Lourds grew. He put his water bottle down and held the book in both hands. Desperately, he scanned the lines of writing. More than anything, he wanted to unlock the secrets that lay within the words.
‘Now, tell me something about that writing that will save your life.’ Qayin’s tone held deadly menace.
‘It’s a warning or a command.’
‘I grow weary of these oblique answers.’
Lourds pointed to one of the words. ‘I believe this is the word diamarturomai. That’s Koine Greek. It means “to solemnly charge”. In the New Testament, the Second Book of Timothy, Paul instructs Timothy about the danger of false teaching. Timothy was supposed to focus on the truth of God, and to teach that Satan is a liar and the father of lies.’
‘Church lessons?’ the woman asked.
‘Religion has always played a major part in the development of language,’ Lourds replied. ‘While merchants focused on sums and subtractions, on material things, language had to be developed to express ideals and manifest desired behaviours. In fact, Second Timothy also warns against churches wrangling over words interpreted from the Bible.’
‘Then this is about God’s Truth?’ Qayin asked.
Glancing up, Lourds saw that he had the man’s full attention. ‘I didn’t say that.’
‘Then what are you saying?’
In an effort to blunt the naked threat in the other man’s eyes, Lourds said, ‘Of course, since you believe this document came from an apostle, there is the possibility that this message is about a “truth”.’ He paused. ‘Or this could be a seal.’
‘What kind of seal?’ The woman took a step closer to look at the page, sliding through Qayin’s followers.
‘Seals were used on letters. Usually a drop of hot wax marked with a seal ring or a stamp that was unique. But there were other seals. Sometimes architects placed them on the buildings they designed and built. The practice is still continued today, although changed somewhat.’
‘Cornerstones,’ Qayin said.
Almost forgetting for a moment that the man held his life in his hands, Lourds nodded eagerly. ‘Exactly. Cornerstones are laid and the rest of the building follows.’
‘You believe this is from a cornerstone?’
Lourds hesitated. ‘Yes, if I have to guess – and obviously I do given the time frame – I would say that this rubbing came from a cornerstone.’
Qayin smiled, and Lourds decided he didn’t like the effect. There was nothing chummy about the expression.
‘You suddenly seem to know quite a lot about that inscription,’ Qayin said.
‘On the contrary,’ Lourds disagreed, ‘I know next to nothing. This is just guesswork on my part. Under the gun, so to speak. It also stands to reason that the original object bearing this inscription is far too heavy to transport or cannot be moved.’ He paused. ‘Or it’s been lost.’
‘Does the message give any indication of location?’
‘I don’t know. If this is a warning or command, it’s most likely it would’ve been placed deliberately. There would have been no need to mention the location.’
Qayin scowled. ‘Then this paper is useless.’
Lourds nearly choked on his sip of water when he realized what he had done. ‘I wouldn’t say it’s useless. There’s still a lot that can be learned from it.’
‘What?’
‘With this, I can learn to decipher the language. If there’s more writing like this, I’ll be able to read it. Given time.’
Silence hung heavy in the catacombs and became as oppressive as the darkness.
‘There’s more writing somewhere,’ Lourds stated. ‘I’d bet my life on it.’
‘Maybe you are betting that life,’ Qayin said. ‘But you’re right, there is more writing. We’re in the process of searching for it now. I think you’re going to get to live a little longer, Professor.’
Lourds didn’t feel happy about his small victory. Living in servitude was no choice he would make. Still, death was a lot more final.
‘Get up.’ Qayin stood and waved to his followers. ‘We need to leave this place.’
Aches filled Lourds’ knees and back as he forced himself up to his feet. He swung his backpack over his shoulder and picked up the book.
One of Qayin’s followers slipped up behind Cleena. Lourds caught the movement from the corner of his eye. Lantern light gleamed against the thick, shiny blade in the man’s hand. Lourds began to shout a warning, but he knew he would already be too late.
She must have sensed something, though. She moved as quickly as a striking snake and brought up her pistol firing point-blank at the man’s head. As he fell, while everyone else stood stunned, she darted behind Lourds and grabbed him by the shirt collar. Her warm body pressed up against his.
The corpse sprawled to the stone floor in a loose spill of limbs.
The woman was barely tall enough to peer over Lourds’ shoulder, but she managed. She also opened fire immediately. Her bullets smashed into flesh, but Qayin and his followers had shaken off their paralysis. They dropped their lanterns and ran for the darkness. Four of them didn’t make it. Her aim was deadly, and in seconds she had halved the number of opponents they faced.
Certain he was about to get shot, Lourds tried t
o dive to the ground. Cleena held onto him tightly and her forearm was like an iron bar across his Adam’s apple. He choked and gagged, and remained on his feet.
‘You just be a good boyo,’ she said. ‘They aren’t going to want to shoot you. Not since you can read their precious little book and maybe whatever else they’ve got tucked away somewhere.’
‘You could be wrong about that, you know.’ Lourds blinked against the darkness and waited for bullets to rip into his body.
‘No, you have your field of specialty, Professor, and I have mine. They paid a pretty penny – well, half a penny anyway – to get you here. Now they think you can do what they hoped you could do, they’re going to want to keep you alive.’
Qayin spoke a harsh command. In response, a brief spate of gunfire rattled through the room. Cleena fired back immediately and evidently hit one of her targets based on where she had seen the muzzle flashes because a man toppled into the pool of light created by the abandoned lanterns.
Lourds tried to move again, but the young woman held him firm.
‘They didn’t hit you, Professor,’ she whispered into his ear. ‘See? You’re worth something to them. They missed you on purpose. And they’ve stopped firing.’
Despite the fear that gripped him, Lourds knew she was correct. Standing highlighted by the lanterns, he knew he was an easy target.
‘I guess there’s no honour among thieves, is there, Qayin?’ she asked. ‘You needn’t bother answering.’
‘You’re not getting out of here alive, Miss MacKenna,’ Qayin responded.
The woman fired in the direction his voice without hesitation. Ricochets bounced wildly around the stone walls. One of them came uncomfortably close to Lourds’ head.
‘If you’re not careful,’ he snapped, ‘you’re going to kill us both.’
She ignored him. ‘Are you still there, Qayin?’
Wisely, Lourds thought, Qayin didn’t answer.
‘Do you want to get out of here?’ she whispered.
‘I’d love to,’ Lourds whispered back, ‘but I think you may be getting a little ambitious. All they have to do is wait until you empty your pistol, then they’ll jump you before you can reload.’
The Lucifer Code Page 7
