The Lucifer Code

by Charles Brokaw

  The Genoese had built the tower in 1348 when they’d been expanding their holdings within the city. It had been originally planned as a defensive enhancement, then served as housing for the Janissaries, the elite Turkish Army corps, and later as a jail for war prisoners. Over the years the tower had needed reconstruction a number of times. Partially destroyed by fires and storms, it had lost its cone-shaped top in 1875 and that hadn’t been replaced until a restoration in 1967.

  Hezarfen Ahmet Celebi, an early aviator, had glided from the tower over the Bosphorus to the Uskudar foothills in the Anatolian half of the city. That had happened some time around 1632.

  Lourds couldn’t imagine launching himself with a pair of wings from the tower. Of course, he couldn’t imagine himself running from gun thugs, either. But throwing oneself from the tower was a conscious decision. Running in the face of death was more of an instinct. As always, he thought about the ancient aviator and respected the man’s drive to discover flight.

  The view was wonderful, overlooking the harbour as well as most of the historic old city and several of the most worshipped – literally – sites. Lourds had enjoyed it on several occasions. At the moment, he was more concerned about police intervention. Given a second running gunbattle, he felt certain the Turkish authorities would kick him out of the country as an undesirable. Politely, of course.

  Until everything got sorted.

  Lourds hoped to have the mystery of the book – Books, he amended, feeling the time crunch of others working on the transcription as well – in hand before the authorities caught up with him. Olympia was on the phone to someone she thought could hide them for a few days but hadn’t seen fit to mention who it was. Matters weren’t helped by the fact that Professor Olympia Adnan was also being sought by the police at present. Several enterprising students at the university had caught the raid on the university on their phones and PDAs. Many of those clips had shown up on YouTube and the local television networks were broadcasting the story.

  Cleena sat on the other side of the table and gazed up at the television behind the bar. ‘It’s you everyone is after.’

  Lourds tried to turn his attention back to his work, but Cleena sat across from him and he was too aware of her gender to ignore her. He looked back at her and watched as she calmly ate a piece of kabak mucveri, Turkish zucchini fritters, and sipped her bottled water.

  ‘All right.’ Turning his attention back to the manuscript, Lourds focused on his transcription once more. Sulking he could deal with. Sulking meant silence. Silence meant-

  ‘I can’t see how you don’t want to talk about this.’ Exasperation tightened Cleena’s voice.

  Lourds glanced at her in bewilderment.

  ‘You said you didn’t want to talk about this,’ he pointed out.

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘But we have to. That doesn’t mean I’m going to enjoy it.’

  Sighing, knowing he wasn’t going to be allowed any peace if he didn’t listen to her and take whatever misery she wished to dole out, Lourds leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his beer. He’d opted for Elfes Pilsen, a local lager brewed in Izmir that he’d found particularly pleasing.

  ‘Do you realize the trouble you’re in?’ she asked.

  ‘You mean with the local police?’ Lourds countered. ‘Or the United States State Department, who I suspect is working with the local CIA? Or Qayin and his troops? Or the paramilitary unit that tried to kill us at the university a few minutes ago. I can’t guess at who they might be working for. That trouble?’

  Cleena hesitated. ‘Yes. That trouble.’

  Lourds studied her. ‘You’ve already known about this trouble. There’s something you’re not telling me.’

  Cleena leaned back and broke eye contact. ‘No there’s not.’

  ‘Why were you at the university today?’

  ‘I told you. I was tailing you.’

  ‘For whom?’

  ‘No one.’

  ‘I don’t believe you were there on your own.’

  ‘Why?’ Fire glinted in Cleena’s eyes. ‘Don’t you think I’m smart enough to figure out there’s a pay out involved in this?’ She flicked her gaze at the book. ‘I’m just here for a share in the profits.’

  Lourds placed a hand on the book. ‘You haven’t tried to take it.’

  Cleena looked sullen but didn’t say anything.

  ‘My guess is that you haven’t a clue about whom to take this to in order to sell it. Or even what it’s worth.’

  ‘I could sell it to Qayin.’

  Lourds smiled. ‘And he proved so trustworthy the first time.’

  She said a particularly bad word only loud enough for Lourds to hear her.

  ‘And I don’t think the men back at the university are looking for more partners,’ Lourds said. ‘Not to mention the fact that you’ve pretty much burned that bridge by shooting a few of them.’

  ‘There are other collectors.’

  ‘A collector wouldn’t be interested in this manuscript unless he-’

  ‘Or she.’

  Lourds acknowledged the response with a nod, but he knew she only delivered it to be more annoying. ‘Or she knew the story behind the book. Which you also don’t know.’

  Cleena grimaced at him. ‘Enjoying your little secrets, Professor?’

  ‘I think we all are.’ He took another sip of his beer and leaned across the table. ‘And then there is the matter of the little friend in your ear. Want to tell me about him? Or her?’

  She drained her water bottle and stood. ‘I’m going to get a refill. Want one?’

  ‘Please. If you think you can refrain from spitting in it.’

  ‘Actually, I hadn’t thought about it. Until now.’ She headed for the bar.

  Lourds watched her go and admired the twitch of her lean hips. The motion was definitely hypnotic and intriguing.

  Olympia slid into the chair next to him and shook her head. ‘My God, Thomas. You haven’t changed a whit. Here we are running for our lives, not to mention that you’ve been keeping me company in bed the last few days, and you’re ogling that young girl as though this was your last day on earth.’

  ‘Sorry.’ Lourds felt his face flush with heat. ‘Ogling is one of those male traits that I’m afraid is hardwired into every cell of my being. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.’

  She smiled at him. ‘No disrespect taken. I’ve known what you were from the day I met you. That’s been part of the attraction, actually.’

  Lourds lifted an enquiring eyebrow.

  ‘A red-blooded male who doesn’t feel the need to take over or change your life is the dream of many professional women,’ Olympia explained. ‘The fact that you’re a tender and caring lover is a bonus.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad you feel that way.’

  ‘What I don’t understand is how you can let some lovely little girl twist your head round when you should be concentrating on keeping it firmly on your shoulders. After all, there seems to be no shortage of people willing to remove it for you.’

  ‘Not all of my interest is in ogling,’ Lourds said. ‘I’m concentrating fully – well, almost fully – on the task of surviving this debacle. That young lady presents mysteries – and perhaps dangers – of her own.’

  Olympia sipped her wine and gazed at Cleena. ‘Like for whom she works?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘She was working for Qayin. But that’s obviously over, isn’t it?’

  ‘Qayin didn’t want to see her survive their first joint venture,’ Lourds replied. ‘I don’t see a future version of that partnership in the offing.’

  ‘Then do you suspect she’s here on her own at this juncture?’

  Lourds shook his head. ‘She’s working with someone, but I don’t think it’s who she’s working for. She’s a professional. A professional wouldn’t have an investment in this. There’s too much she doesn’t know.’

  ‘She’d be better off getting clear of
the city. And us.’

  ‘I agree.’

  ‘Then why isn’t she?’

  ‘Because,’ Lourds said, ‘for whatever reason, she doesn’t have a choice. An investment is there and she’s not happy about it.’ He smiled at Olympia. ‘I really think that’s one of the reasons she doesn’t like me.’

  Olympia chuckled. ‘Why, Professor Lourds, I do think that you’re upset by that.’

  ‘No. She’s already made it quite clear that she isn’t interested.’

  Tsking with feigned sympathy, Olympia trailed her fingers through his hair. ‘Oh, you poor dear. That must have hurt deeply.’

  ‘I’ll live. But the question remains, what do we do with her?’

  Olympia drew her hand back and raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘You’re actually thinking of letting her accompany us?’

  ‘Unless I can figure out everything involved with this book, us isn’t going to be going anywhere.’

  ‘Nonsense. You’ll figure this out. I have faith in you. That’s why I asked you to come.’

  Lourds gestured at the television hanging over the bar. Scenes from the university played again, followed by still photographs of Olympia and Lourds.

  ‘We’re running out of clock,’ he said.

  ‘Personally, I think we need to ditch her. I know the kind of woman she is. She’ll only bring you – us – trouble.’

  Lourds pierced her with his gaze and he spoke in a low, friendly tone. ‘I suppose it doesn’t strike you that the same could be said about you? You brought me here and immersed me in this whole fiasco, and very nearly got me killed without giving me a choice in the matter.’

  Olympia’s features softened and she looked guilty. She smoothed a stray lock of hair from Lourds’ forehead. ‘I really didn’t intend for this to happen, Thomas. I thought your part in this would already be done. I had no idea anyone else knew you were coming.’

  Lourds captured her hand and tenderly kissed her palm. ‘I don’t doubt that for a moment, Olympia. And I have to admit, I find this quite exhilarating. This is the kind of work I’m meant to do.’

  ‘Like with the Atlantis search?’

  Lourds smiled. ‘I rather hope this doesn’t turn out to be that dangerous.’

  ‘The fate of the world,’ she reminded him.

  ‘I cling to the belief the case is rather overstated. After all, nearly two thousand years have passed. Surely the stakes have been exaggerated by the passage of time.’

  Olympia glanced back at the bar. ‘Either way, that young woman’s going to complicate matters if she stays around.’

  At the bar, Lourds saw Cleena watching their reflections in the mirror. She was talking, but he knew she wasn’t talking to herself.

  ‘She stays,’ he declared.

  ‘That may not be your decision to make,’ Olympia replied.

  Lourds waited a beat. ‘If you want me working with you, Olympia, this is how we’ll do it.’

  His sudden resoluteness about the subject caused her to cock her head in surprise. ‘And if I say no?’

  ‘Then I’ll take what I already know and continue working on my own. I’m quite hooked on this project – as you doubtless counted on.’

  ‘What if I turn you over to the authorities and you get deported?’

  ‘Then,’ Lourds said, ‘I’ll find out if news agencies are interested in this book and the story behind it. The fate of the world, and all that.’

  ‘You wouldn’t.’ Olympia looked shocked and pulled her hand free of his.

  ‘You know me. You know I would. If I talk loudly enough long enough, especially about an artefact written by John of Patmos, the Turkish government may see fit to invite me back in and give me whatever resources I need to see this project through to completion.’

  ‘You’ve never been a blackmailer.’

  ‘With you, no. And I do hope it doesn’t come to that. But there is the matter of me getting shot at and taken captive. And all the curiosity you’ve built up without quite ever telling me everything you know.’ Lourds paused. ‘At this point, I’ll do what I have to.’

  ‘You can’t.’

  ‘Because the fate of the world depends on finding the Joy Scroll?’

  Olympia didn’t answer.

  ‘You can’t have it both ways, love. Either this document needs to be found quickly, and I’m the right man to do the job, or neither of those things is true. Which is it?’

  Obviously angry, Olympia folded her arms. ‘Bringing her along is going to be dangerous.’

  ‘Having her dogging our trail would be dangerous as well. For her and for us. If she’s with us, we can at least keep an eye on her, and maybe find out who she’s working for. That could prove important to know while we put the rest of this puzzle together. This isn’t just you and the people you represent, or Qayin. Someone else knows about the Joy Scroll and we need to know who that is.’ He paused to sip his beer. ‘Besides that, she’s handy with weapons in a fight.’

  At the bar, Cleena paid for the drinks, then turned and came back to the table. As she sat down, she looked at Lourds and Olympia. The tension between them was palpable and showed in the woman’s tense posture. Evidently things hadn’t gone as the lady professor had planned. That pleased Cleena no end.

  ‘Lover’s quarrel while I was gone?’ Cleena asked.

  ‘Not hardly.’ Lourds accepted his new beer and surreptitiously examined the surface for any signs of foreign materials.

  ‘Please.’ Cleena rolled her eyes. ‘I’m not that juvenile.’

  ‘You have acknowledged that you’re incredibly young,’ Lourds pointed out.

  ‘We were discussing the possibility of you coming with us,’ Olympia stated bluntly.

  ‘That isn’t a possibility,’ Cleena replied. ‘That’s a fact.’

  Olympia smiled sweetly, as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. ‘We weren’t sure if you still wanted to go after everything that’s happened.’

  Calmly, Cleena met the older woman’s gaze full measure. ‘Are you thinking about dropping out of this little treasure hunt?’

  ‘It’s not,’ Olympia insisted through gritted teeth, ‘a treasure hunt.’

  ‘Whatever.’ Cleena flicked her gaze to the book in front of Lourds. ‘But I’m betting you didn’t invite the professor over for a little slap and tickle and a wild goose chase.’

  Crimson briefly coloured Olympia’s cheeks before she regained her composure. ‘What Thomas and I have between us isn’t so cavalier as you propose.’

  ‘Please,’ Cleena protested. ‘I’m trying to keep my drink down. What you and the professor do in the sanctity of your borrowed hotel room isn’t any business of mine.’

  ‘Yet you were a peeping Tom.’

  She has you there, Sevki said into Cleena’s ear. Cleena’s face burned for just a moment.

  ‘Learn anything?’ Olympia taunted.

  ‘Only that wine and cheese are probably the only things that get better with age.’

  Oh, that’s cold, Sevki said.

  Looking both irritated and discomforted, Lourds cleared his throat. ‘Ladies, perhaps we should stick to the agenda.’

  Olympia crossed her arms and glared at Cleena. ‘If you’re looking for some sort of profit, you’re going to be sadly mistaken.’

  Cleena sipped her water. ‘I know you and I don’t hang out in the same social circles, but I can tell you one thing I’ve learnt, and that is that people don’t kill each other for nothing. Whatever this thing is you’re looking for, somebody plans to profit from it. Money will be involved. Eventually.’

  That, she knew, was inarguable.

  Lourds followed Olympia through the narrow streets. Many of the older buildings were in their original unaltered state and dated back several centuries despite the times the city had been conquered. Street vendors occupied corners and hawked their wares.

  Galata had been colonized by the Republic of Genoa in 1273. According to legend, the name had been taken from Calata, which roughl
y translated as ‘downward slope’. The city had also been called Pera, taken from an old Greek name that meant ‘the fig field on the other side’, referring to the Bosphorus between the two halves of the city. Most of the walls of the medieval city had been torn down first during the Fourth Crusade, when Christians fought Christians and the line had been drawn between the Catholic Church and the Eastern Orthodox Church. The remaining walls had nearly all been destroyed under Muslim rule in the nineteenth century to allow further urban expansion.

  Glancing over his shoulder, he checked on Cleena. The young woman trailed him by a couple of strides and looked alert. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

  ‘Have you been to Istanbul before?’ he asked.

  She glanced at him. ‘Making conversation?’

  Lourds shrugged.

  ‘Yes, I have,’ she acknowledged after a moment. ‘A few times.’

  ‘I love the older parts. This city has a lot of history written into it.’

  ‘Is that what this hunt is all about? History?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Cleena smiled at him. ‘But you’re not saying which history. The Greeks, the Romans or the Ottoman Empire.’

  ‘Many other cultures have lived here,’ Lourds replied.

  ‘But those are the big three.’

  ‘So they are.’

  They paused at the ruins of the Palace of the Genoese, which was called the Palazzo del Commune, the Palace of the Municipality behind Bankalar Caddesi on Banks Street, which featured several Ottoman-era finance structures.

  ‘What have you learned from the book?’

  Lourds stepped round a small group of children playing at the curb. ‘Maybe this isn’t the time to talk about it.’

  ‘Really? I was thinking this was the perfect time. You know, before we get to wherever we’re going?’

  Lourds resettled his hat on his head and shifted his backpack over his shoulders. He didn’t say anything.