The Prophecy paj-5

by Chris Kuzneski

  ‘Will do, Admiral. Call you later.’

  ‘Thanks, man. We appreciate it.’

  The sound of typing continued long after they hung up the phone.

  22

  Petr Ulster ignored the view as he trudged up the steps towards the document vaults on the upper floors. It was a journey he made several times a day, moving from room to room, helping researchers from round the world with their pursuit of historical data. Although he didn’t consider himself an expert in any particular field,

  It was a skill set that served him well as curator of the facility.

  Unlike most libraries, the main goal of the Ulster Archives wasn’t to provide books to the general public. It was to bridge the evergrowing schism that existed between scholars and connoisseurs. Typical big-city museums displayed 15 per cent of their accumulated artefacts, meaning 85 per cent of the world’s finest relics were currently off-limits to the public. That number climbed even higher, closer to 90 per cent, when personal collections were factored in.

  Thankfully, the Ulster Foundation was doing something about it. Since the Archives had opened in the mid-1960s, they had promoted the radical concept of sharing. In order to gain admittance to the facility, a visitor had to bring something of value — whether it was an ancient ornament or unpublished research that might be useful to others. Whatever it was, it had to be approved in advance by the Archives’ staff. If for some reason they deemed the item unworthy, then admission to the facility was denied until a suitable replacement could be found.

  Especially after the events of three years ago when a violent squad of religious zealots had tried to burn the Archives to the ground. Their goal had been to destroy a series of ancient relics that threatened the foundation of the Catholic Church, including evidence about the True Cross. Thankfully, the attack had been thwarted by Payne and Jones, who had been at the Archives conducting research of their own. Without the duo’s heroism, Ulster and his staff would have been slaughtered, and everything would have been lost for ever.

  Though they expected nothing in return for

  With another swipe of his ID card, Ulster entered the Renaissance collection room. Similar to the other document vaults at the Archives, the floors were made out of fireproof wood — the floorboards had been coated with an aqueousbased resin — while the white walls and ceilings had been treated with a fire-retardant spray. The texts themselves were kept in massive fireproof safes protected behind bulletproof security doors.

  Beeps filled the air as Ulster entered his tendigit security code on the digital keypad. The sound was soon replaced by the low rumble of the partitions as they inched across the floor in their motorized tracks. Once the glass had disappeared into the walls, the dials on the individual

  From the supply cabinet in the corner, Ulster grabbed a notebook and a box of coloured pens and placed them on the wooden table that sat in the middle of the room. If he had been handling an ancient manuscript, he would have lined the table with a plastic laminate similar in texture and strength to Formica. But since he would be using modern textbooks to translate the riddle, a sterile liner wasn’t necessary.

  Ulster had printed the letter in the centre of a crisp sheet of paper. It consisted of four lines of text, written in fancy calligraphy, composed in a multitude of ancient dialects that had been scrambled together in one message. On the top page of the notebook, Ulster made a list of words he recognized. He made a second column for the modern translation of the terms, followed by a third column where he identified the language. Older forms of French, Latin, Greek, and Italian were obvious because he had worked extensively with them over the years. Hebrew was slightly

  The final language, Provençal — which was a dialect spoken in southern France — took the longest to classify because of its similarities to other Occitan dialects. But once he had identified it through trail and error, he called his elderly assistant, Hans, who brought him a language primer from Ulster’s personal library in his residential suite.

  After that, it was just a matter of time before he deciphered the cryptic text.

  Ulster knew every language utilized a unique word structure that determined where different parts of speech (adjectives, pronouns, etc.) should fall in a sentence. He also realized that a sentence’s meaning often hinged on two parts of speech in particular: nouns (people, places, and things) and verbs (actions). Because of this, he temporarily ignored all the minor words like articles and prepositions, and focused on the words that he considered important.

  Slowly but surely, the hidden message came into view.

  23

  ‘Let’s talk about Ashley,’ Payne suggested. ‘I tossed and turned all night long, trying to answer one question about her, but I kept coming up empty.’

  ‘What’s the question?’ Jones wondered.

  ‘What was her endgame? Something motivated her to buy a plane ticket and fly across the state to meet us, and I’m wondering what that was. If she was trying to con us out of money, why did she have a return ticket for today? That’s a very narrow window to pull off a con.’

  ‘Actually, I thought about that, too, and I have a theory I’d like to run by you. Don’t hold me to this, though. It’s just a guess.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘What if she wasn’t there to meet us?’

  ‘I’m not saying I believe it. I’m just saying it’s a possibility.’

  Payne leaned back in his chair. ‘Explain.’

  ‘First of all, she snuck into the Cathedral and hid during your speech. If she had wanted to speak to us, why didn’t she just pull us into a room for a quick chat?’

  ‘According to her, she was embarrassed by her clothes.’

  ‘Yeah, well, she also said her name was Ashley, and she was a schoolteacher. So I wouldn’t put too much credence into anything she claimed.’

  ‘Good point.’

  ‘Secondly, do you know where she was when I called you?’

  ‘I have no idea. I wasn’t with you at the time.’

  ‘She was standing in the English Room, right beside the door to the French Room.’

  ‘What’s your point?’

  ‘Maybe she was going there to get the Middle French translated but before she had a chance, she noticed me and I spooked her.’

  Payne grinned. ‘You’ve been known to spook women.’

  He ignored the insult. ‘Anyway, my point is this: maybe she wasn’t there for us. Maybe she for the event, not to spend quality time with us.’

  ‘I don’t know. That sure is a lot of maybes, especially when you consider how many colleges there are in Philadelphia. Why fly all the way to Pittsburgh when she could have gone to an Ivy League school like Penn and gotten help there?’

  Jones shrugged. ‘Like I said, it was just a theory.’

  ‘Trust me, I’m not dismissing it. For all we know, she might have been there to meet someone else. Maybe even one of my guests. At this point, it’s too early to rule anything out. Especially since we don’t know much about the man who killed her. Once we get his identity, I’m sure things will make a lot more sense.’

  ‘I hope so. Because right now we’re just grasping at straws.’

  Raskin called with the shooter’s identity less than an hour later, but it wasn’t the smoking gun they were looking for. In fact, it confused them even more.

  was a soldier. But you’ll never guess where he was from.’

  ‘France,’ Jones blurted.

  ‘Sparta,’ Payne joked.

  Raskin smiled at the reference. ‘Nope. The guy was Belgian.’

  Jones furrowed his brow. ‘Belgian? Like the waffles?’

  ‘Exactly like the waffles. And nearly as flat, if these crime-scene pictures are accurate. Why didn’t you tell me he got hit by a bus?’

  ‘Because you never asked.’

  ‘Come on, dude. That’s not the type of question that comes up—’

  Payne cut them off. ‘Was he still on active duty?’

  Raskin st
ared at his computer screen. ‘No, he was discharged from the Composante Terre three years ago.’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘The Composante Terre. That’s the land component of the Belgian Armed Forces.’

  Payne nodded in understanding. ‘In other words, their army.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘What was his specialty?’

  Payne glanced at Jones. ‘A sniper? Why in the hell was a sniper on the Pitt campus?’

  Jones shrugged. ‘Campaigning for a Belgian nationality room?’

  ‘Well, I’m not going to vote for him.’

  ‘Neither is Ashley.’

  ‘I’ve got a better question for you,’ Raskin said over the phone.

  ‘What is it?’ Payne wondered.

  ‘If this guy was a sniper, why are you guys still alive?’

  ‘Two reasons that I can think of,’ Jones surmised. ‘Number one was last night’s weather. Visibility was next to nil. No way he could have picked us off from a distance, not with the wind, snow, and darkness working against him. On a sunny day, he could’ve planted himself across the street and taken us out. Last night, he had to get up close and personal.’

  ‘Makes sense to me,’ Raskin admitted. ‘What’s number two?’

  ‘Simple. He wasn’t gunning for us. He was gunning for the girl.’

  Payne nodded in agreement, realizing a trained sniper would have waited for all of his targets to

  ‘I’m sending it right now.’

  ‘By the way, what was his name?’

  ‘Jean-Pierre Allard.’

  Jones grinned. ‘I just thought of reason number three. No way a guy named Jean-Pierre kills either one of us. I’d be fine with an assassin named the Butcher. But Jean-Pierre? That would be embarrassing.’

  Payne agreed. ‘You got that right.’

  ‘Speaking of names,’ Jones said to Raskin, ‘any word on this morning’s shooter?’

  ‘Not yet, but my search engines are still chugging along. As soon as something turns up, I’ll be sure to give you a call.’

  ‘Great. We’ll be here all day.’

  ‘Really?’ Raskin looked at the clock on his computer screen. ‘Shouldn’t you be knee-deep in beer and chicken wings by now?’

  ‘Don’t get me started,’ Jones whined. ‘Last night Jon made me skip Pitt hoops for his charity event. Today it’s the Steelers. If he asks me to bail

  ‘If that happens, give me a call. I’d be more than willing to go to a game.’

  ‘Hold up! They let you leave your desk?’

  Raskin sighed. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never tried to leave.’

  24

  Meanwhile, Payne and Jones sat next to each other in the main conference room at the Payne Industries Building. The chestnut-lined chamber was equipped with the newest audiovisual gadgetry — computers, plasma screens, and fibreoptic connections. On the lacquered table, they had set up a camera and monitor that worked the same way as Ulster’s. Thanks to their screen, they

  Ulster stared at Payne and Jones via his monitor. ‘First of all, please allow me to apologize for the lengthy delay. Your riddle was a stubborn beast, one that took me a while to slay.’

  Jones smiled at the colourful metaphor. Only a few hours had passed since their initial conversation. ‘To be honest, we’re surprised you finished the translation so quickly. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until late tonight or tomorrow.’

  Ulster waved his hand dismissively. ‘Tomorrow? I should think not! How could I have slept knowing armed men are running round your city, gunning for your blood?’

  ‘The same way I slept on the battlefield. Left eye closed, right eye closed, goodnight.’

  Payne pointed his thumb at Jones. ‘He’s not exaggerating. I’ve seen this guy sleep through a mortar attack. Enemy shells dropping from the sky like rain, and he’s curled up in a trench, snoozing away. Must’ve been dreaming, too, because he had a big-ass grin on his face.’

  Jones shrugged. ‘What can I say? I love naps.’

  Ulster chuckled at the image, amazed that they could stay so cool under pressure.

  ‘Anyway,’ Payne said, ‘we appreciate you getting

  Ulster held up his copy. ‘As you know, the original message was a mixture of several ancient languages, none of which seemed more important than another. Therefore, I’ll list them in alphabetical order: French, Greek, Hebrew, Italian, Latin, and Provençal.’

  ‘What is Provençal?’ Payne asked.

  ‘Provençal is a dialect named after the Provence region in southern France. Today it is spoken by fewer than a half-million people, mostly in France, Spain, Italy, and Monaco. Strangely, it is also used by a few wine communities in and around Napa, California.’

  Jones grunted with surprise. ‘Really? I’ll have to remember that.’

  ‘Centuries ago, Provençal served an important role in French culture, because it was the language used by troubadours.’

  ‘Is Provençal different to Middle French?’ Payne wondered.

  ‘Linguistically speaking, they are both Gallo-Romance languages that were shaped in France, but there are some major differences between the two. Let’s start with a timeline.’

  Without warning, Ulster swivelled in his chair. AD, 1500 AD, and 2000 AD. Next he grabbed a red marker and drew a horizontal bar that ran parallel to the timeline for its entire length. Drawn two feet above the timeline, the red bar started just before 1000 AD and extended slightly past 2000 AD. He labelled it Provençal.

  ‘Can you read my writing?’ Ulster asked.

  Payne stared at the screen. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good,’ he replied as he grabbed a green marker. ‘Then I shall continue.’

  A foot below the red bar and a foot above the timeline, Ulster drew a green bar. It started eight inches to the left of 1500 AD and stopped four inches past it. He labelled the bar Middle French. When he was done, the long red bar was on top, the short green bar was in the middle, and the black timeline was on the bottom.

  Turning his head towards the camera, Ulster said, ‘The red bar represents Provençal. The green bar is Middle French. Jonathon, what can you tell me about them?’

  Ulster nodded. ‘Records show that it has been spoken for more than a thousand years. Furthermore, as I mentioned earlier, it is still spoken today in some parts of the world.’

  ‘I’m guessing that isn’t the case with Middle French.’

  Ulster pointed at the green bar. ‘Middle French evolved from langue d’oïl, also known as Old French, somewhere in the middle of the fourteenth century. Many grammatical changes occurred at that time — technical things that I won’t bore you with. However, it is important to understand that these changes can be traced to this particular era. In fact, it is crucial.’

  Jones grimaced. ‘I don’t get it. Why is that crucial?’

  Ulster smiled into the camera. ‘Because it gives us a starting point.’

  ‘A starting point?’

  ‘Tell me, David, what do you know about the letter’s origin?’

  He shrugged. ‘Not a whole lot.’

  ‘Do you have the original in your possession?’

  ‘What about the name of the author?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘How about the date it was written?’

  ‘No idea.’

  Ulster smiled wider. ‘Are you sure about that?’ Jones furrowed his brow and studied his copy of the letter, carefully searching for a date. Meanwhile, Payne sat next to him, doing the same thing.

  ‘Gentlemen,’ Ulster said, ‘the answer isn’t in your hands. It’s on the board behind me.’

  The duo glanced at each other, confused, then focused on the monitor. Each of them trying to figure out the answer before the other. Several seconds passed before one of them caught on.

  Jones asked, ‘You’re not talking about a specific date, are you?’

  ‘No, not a specific date. More like a window of time.’

  ‘Then I got it. Middle French star
ted in 1350 AD, give or take an inch. The person who composed this letter used words from Middle French. Therefore, we know that this letter was written after 1350 AD.’

  Ulster clapped his hands towards the camera. ‘Bravo, David! Bravo! Thanks to the inclusion of

  Payne nodded in understanding, not the least bit surprised that Ulster had taken so long to make such a minor point. He had been around Ulster long enough to realize that his rambling was actually a part of his teaching process. Instead of giving a two-minute briefing where he summarized the key facts, he preferred to work in layers, slowly providing background information until an academic foundation had been established. Once he was confident that everyone had working knowledge of a topic, he would discuss the major points.

  But in a situation like this, where time was critical, Payne knew he would have to stay on top of things or Ulster’s digressions would go on all day.

  ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Payne said, ‘I’m thrilled that you narrowed things down, but six hundred and fifty years is a large chunk of time. Did you learn anything else from the letter?’

  Ulster grinned in triumph. ‘Fear not, my boy. I’m just getting started.’

  25

  Finally, Payne and Jones could see what had been written.

  Word Order???

  ‘Gentlemen,’ Ulster explained, ‘I was able to translate the individual words in your letter in a short period of time. Unfortunately, I struggled tremendously with the word order.’

  ‘Why is that?’ Jones asked.

  ‘As you’re probably aware, every language has grammatical tendencies that define its basic sentence structure. In English, nouns usually fall before verbs, adjectives typically fall before nouns, and so on. For example, the red ball bounces. Obviously there are many exceptions to these rules, but over time most people recognize the

  Payne nodded. ‘We’re with you so far.’

  ‘Occasionally, these patterns are distorted by topography and distance. In America, for instance, people who live in the north talk differently to people from the south.’