The Prophecy paj-5

by Chris Kuzneski

  ‘You mean, accents?’

  ‘Although accents are quite noticeable, they are merely tonal. I was actually referring to regional dialects. Simply put, the location of your home influences the words you use and the way you structure sentences.’

  Jones smiled. ‘Down south, they say y’all. In Pittsburgh, they say yinz.’

  ‘Yinz,’ Ulster repeated. ‘I’ve never heard such a word. How bizarre!’

  ‘For the record,’ Payne said defensively, ‘I grew up here, but I don’t say yinz.’

  ‘And since you are highly educated,’ Ulster explained, ‘I wouldn’t expect you to. Typically, the more education a person receives, the less likely they are to use regional dialects. Unless, of course, a colloquial term has been absorbed by all levels of society.’

  ‘Can you give me an example?’ Jones asked.

  Ulster nodded. ‘Of course I can. In fact, I’ll

  ‘In Pittsburgh, we’d call it pop.’

  ‘In other parts of America, it would be called cola, a soft drink, or simply Coke. Now tell me, if you heard any of those being ordered, would you look down upon the person?’

  Jones shook his head no.

  ‘That’s because those terms have been accepted by all levels of society. On the other hand, if someone ordered soda water or soda pop, what would you think?’

  ‘I’d think they grew up on a farm. Or live in the 1950s.’

  ‘That’s because those expressions have been phased out of high society.’

  ‘Very interesting,’ Jones said. ‘I never thought of that.’

  Payne cleared his throat in frustration. He knew if he didn’t interrupt them soon, they would talk about regional dialects all day. And considering the recent shootings, he realized they didn’t have time to waste. ‘Sorry to cut in, Petr, but what’s your point?’

  Ulster smiled sheepishly. ‘Ah, yes, my point. When I translated your letter, I didn’t detect any

  ‘Go on,’ Payne urged, trying to stop Ulster’s rambling.

  ‘As I mentioned earlier, all languages have a wide variety of nuances that make them unique. And because of this, I ran into all sorts of problems with your letter.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘First of all, Greek uses one alphabet, Hebrew uses another, and so on. Secondly, Hebrew is written right to left, not left to right, which hindered my initial efforts until I got comfortable with the flow. Thirdly, a few of these languages have conflicting sentence structures. Some of them require their articles and prepositions to be placed here, and others require them to be placed there. Not to mention adjectives and verb tenses, which were particularly troublesome.’

  Payne grimaced, suddenly understanding the challenges that Ulster had faced. He knew the letter had been written in six languages, but he

  ‘The first thing I did was toss away the minor words in the letter. Since I didn’t know where to place them, I pushed them aside and concentrated on the major words.’

  ‘By major words, do you mean nouns and verbs?’ Jones asked.

  ‘Precisely!’

  With a burst of excitement, Ulster grabbed the black marker from the tray and made a simple chart — two columns with eleven rows — on the board behind him. Then he picked up an orange marker and started filling in the left column with the English translation of all the major words. After that, he used a purple marker to identify the original language that the author had used in the letter. Amazingly, Ulster did the entire chart from memory, never turning round or glancing at his notes. When he was done, he exhaled loudly and collapsed into his chair, as if it had drained every ounce of energy from his body.

  WORDS

  LANGUAGE

  city

  French

  brother

  Greek

  lover

  Italian

  Hebrew

  line

  Latin

  mare

  Provençal

  mother

  French

  choice

  Hebrew

  place

  Provençal

  time

  Italian

  Both Payne and Jones wrote the chart underneath their copies of the letter while Ulster caught his breath. Thirty seconds passed before he spoke again.

  ‘As you can see,’ Ulster said, ‘the author varied his language throughout the message, never using the same language consecutively. Obviously this added to the complexity of the letter because his grammar rules were constantly changing.’

  ‘Did you learn anything by his choice of language?’ Jones wondered.

  ‘Hypothetically, yes. Conclusively, no.’

  ‘Theories are fine, Petr. This isn’t a court of law.’

  Ulster smiled. ‘In that case, I would surmise that the author was a French Jew.’

  ‘Really?’ Jones said, surprised by the precision. ‘Why do you think that?’

  ‘Simple maths, my boy. Simple maths.’ Ulster

  ‘And the Jewish part?’

  ‘Since the advent of Middle French in 1350 AD, the major religion in France has always been Christianity, so much so that Jews have been persecuted for their beliefs. Therefore, if the author studied Hebrew, he was probably a Jew.’

  Payne nodded. It made sense to him. ‘What about a location? Are there any Jewish settlements inside France?’

  ‘None that I can recall, but I shall certainly check.’

  ‘What about places outside France?’

  Ulster rubbed his chin in thought. ‘Well, French is an official language in Switzerland and Luxembourg. It is also spoken in Malta, Monaco, and Quebec. Then there are a hundred million people spread across Africa who speak the language in one form or another—’

  ‘That is correct. Forty per cent of Belgians speak French.’

  Payne leaned forward in his chair. ‘Last night’s shooter was Belgian.’

  ‘Is that so? I don’t know why, but I’ve never thought of Belgians as being dangerous.’ Ulster patted his large stomach and grinned. ‘For some reason, I think of waffles.’

  ‘Us, too,’ Jones admitted, ‘with fruit and powdered sugar.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Payne said, trying to move things along, ‘the Belgium connection might be a co incidence, but we’ll keep it in mind as we move forward.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Jonathon. I’m nearly done. And the best part is yet to come.’

  26

  ‘Based on the assumption that the author was from France, I translated every word in the letter into Middle French. Unfortunately, the words were still jumbled and made little sense. I had the same issue when I used Old and Modern French. Next I tried Provençal, but the results were similar — nothing but chaos. I also tried Latin, then Italian, Greek and finally Hebrew. But guess what? None of the languages seemed to fit. If I pushed and pulled and finagled a bit, I was able to see some semblance of structure, but I doubt this is what the author had intended.’

  Jones agreed. ‘You’re probably right. Most codes are pretty straightforward. If you know the cipher, then the rest is easy.’

  ‘Thankfully,’ Ulster said, as he tapped on the

  ‘Seen what?’ Jones asked.

  ‘The rhythm.’

  Payne furrowed his brow. ‘The rhythm?’

  With his marker, Ulster drew an asterisk next to four words: brother, line, mother, and time. ‘Take a look at your copy of the letter. How many lines are there?’

  ‘Four,’ Payne replied.

  ‘That is correct. Four lines. The words I have identified are the final words of those four lines. Now tell me, what do these words have in common?’

  Payne knew it wasn’t their language because all of them were different. According to the chart, brother was Greek, mother was French, line was Latin, and time was Italian. Other than that, he wasn’t quite sure what to look for. ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘Of course not,’ Jones teased. ‘In the future, never ask a white guy about rhythm. If you have a choice, turn to a brother for hel
p.’

  Payne rolled his eyes. ‘Okay, Brother Jones, what’s the answer?’

  ‘The words rhyme. Brother and mother definitely rhyme. And line and time mostly rhyme. At least they would in a rap song.’

  do rhyme. But strangely, they do not rhyme in French. Or Latin. Or any of the other languages. They only rhyme in English.’

  ‘No shit?’

  ‘No, I’m quite serious. Your letter is a simple quatrain with alternate rhyming verses.’

  ‘Are we talking Middle English like The Canterbury Tales, or Early Modern like Macbeth?’

  Ulster grinned. ‘I’m talking this decade like Harry Potter or Twilight.’

  ‘This message is current?’

  ‘Very current. And once that had been determined, everything else fell into place. I suddenly realized that some of the words that appeared to be nouns — for instance, choice — were meant to be verbs. In this case, chosen. Once that was resolved, the message became quite clear to me.’

  ‘Hold up,’ Payne ordered, slightly aggravated by the turn of events. ‘Let me see if I got this straight. We just spent fifteen minutes discussing regional dialects and the sentence structure of Provençal, but you’re telling us the message was meant to be deciphered in English.’

  Ulster nodded. ‘It appears that way, yes.’

  ‘Then why didn’t you tell us that to begin with?’

  ‘Oh,’ Payne said, trying to ease the tension, ‘in that case, thanks.’

  Ulster took a deep breath then cracked a smile. ‘Sorry, Jonathon, I shouldn’t have raised my voice like that. I’m simply hungry, and tired, and craving waffles.’

  Payne shook his head. ‘Actually, Petr, I’m the one who should apologize to you. You’re doing us a favour here. Without your knowledge, we would’ve been screwed.’

  Ulster waved his hand dismissively. ‘Well, the good news is that we’re nearly done. At this point I feel I have adequately prepared you for my translation.’

  ‘Are you positive? Because I’ll gladly wait some

  Ulster smiled wider. ‘No, I’m quite sure. Let me write it above my chart.’

  With a purple marker, he carefully printed the quatrain in English on the top of the board. Four lines. Two couplets. Twenty-two words in total. Composed in six ancient languages but translated into a seventh. When he was done, Ulster sat down and admired his handiwork, making sure that he had made no errors. It read:

  From the city of brothers,

  A lover from the lost line.

  A mare with no mother,

  Chosen for her place in time.

  Payne and Jones copied the translation, word for word, then took a moment to examine it. When they were done, they shifted their focus back to Ulster.

  Jones asked, ‘Any thoughts on what it means?’

  ‘Sadly, English literature is not my forte and never will be. Therefore, if you are looking for deep artistic meaning, I’m afraid you are asking the wrong man. However, if you are searching

  Jones nodded. ‘I’m with you, Petr. My brain was built for facts and numbers, not artistic interpretation. I can read a poem and tell you if I like it, but I can’t dissect one to save my life.’

  Payne cleared his throat. ‘There’s no need. I’ll save your life. Like always.’

  ‘Will you now? And how are you going to do that?’

  ‘I know what the message means.’

  Jones snapped his fingers for effect. ‘You solved it, just like that?’

  Payne smiled confidently. ‘Plus, I think Petr made a mistake in his translation.’

  Jones laughed. ‘Oh, man, this is gonna be good! Please enlighten us, Brother Payne.’

  ‘Yes, Jonathon, I must admit I’m rather intrigued by your insinuation. Please continue.’

  Payne pointed at the screen. ‘This poem is about someone in Philadelphia.’

  Jones rolled his eyes. ‘Philadelphia? How do you figure?’

  He stared at Jones. ‘What’s Philadelphia’s nickname?’

  ‘The City of Brotherly Love.’

  Jones argued. ‘Wait, where’s the love? It doesn’t say anything about love!’

  ‘Look at the next line, DJ. You’ll find your love there.’

  ‘Oh,’ Jones grunted.

  Payne turned his attention to the screen. ‘Petr, in the third line, are you certain about the word mare?’

  Ulster looked at the board and nodded. ‘Fairly certain, why?’

  ‘By mare, did you mean a female horse?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘An adult female or a baby female?’

  Ulster shrugged. ‘Just a female. An age was not specified.’

  ‘In that case, may I suggest a substitution?’

  ‘You may.’

  ‘How about filly instead?’

  Ulster considered the word. ‘Yes, filly would fit. “A filly with no mother”.’

  Payne smirked at Jones. ‘Hey, DJ, what’s the abbreviated name for Philadelphia?’

  Jones stopped smiling. ‘Philly.’

  ‘And the nickname of their professional baseball team?’

  ‘How about that? A Philly with no mother. That’s two references to the city. I have a strange feeling that isn’t a coincidence.’

  Ulster stood and changed the word in his translation. ‘Nor do I.’

  ‘While we’re at it,’ Payne said, ‘why don’t you tell Petr about the woman who gave us the letter? Where was she from?’

  ‘Philly,’ Jones mumbled, unhappy with his friend’s success.

  Payne grinned, glad he could finally contribute something to the conversation instead of listening to Ulster and Jones going on and on about historical events.

  ‘Last, but not least,’ he exclaimed. ‘When we’re done talking to Petr about the letter, where do you think we’re going next?’

  Jones swore under his breath, refusing to answer the question.

  27

  black propaganda — fake documents that were designed to destroy the morale of the enemy.

  Because of Nostradamus’s popularity in Europe, Goebbels hired Karl Ernst Krafft, a prominent Swiss astrologer and an enthusiastic Nazi supporter, to interpret Nostradamus’s prophecies in such a way as to cast a positive light on the Third Reich. Their goal was to create the illusion that Nostradamus had predicted a German victory, which would make their opponents believe they were fighting an unwinnable war. Goebbels published the Nazi prophecies in leaflets, and then air-dropped the leaflets over

  As soon as the British learned of the Nazi tactics, they quickly produced their own set of fifty false Nostradamus prophecies, which foretold Allied victories. These verses were printed and dispersed throughout Nazi occupied territories in an attempt to counteract Goebbels’s efforts.

  Not to be outdone, the American government commissioned Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios to produce a series of short films to be shown before movies. The anti-propaganda films — which had titles like Nostradamus Says So, More About Nostradamus, and Further Prophecies of Nostradamus — were narrated by acclaimed screenwriter Carey Wilson and included prophecies that could be connected to World War Two. Some of the quatrains were presented in their original state, others were edited for effect, making it seem as though Nostradamus had predicted an Allied victory. The films were so successful that More About Nostradamus was nominated for an Academy Award in the Best Short Subject category in 1941.

  A few years later, Nostradamus IV was released

  Needless to say, the poster and the film were very popular in America.

  Back when François Dubois was still trying to come to grips with his visions of the future, he asked his mother why she viewed his dreams as a gift. Her explanation was a simple one. She said, ‘Knowing the future is a tool you can use to conquer your environment. The more you know, the better off you’ll be — especially if you possess information that no one else has.’

  From that moment on, he became fixated with the concept.

  As a teenager, whenever he was inte
rested in a girl, he would study her for weeks in advance, long before he even talked to her. Later, when he planned his first heist, he bribed city officials for blueprints, paid security guards for patrol routes,

  The more he knew, the better off he would be.

  That was one of the reasons he had established a network of spies in universities round the globe. Dubois realized how much information was available on college campuses, particularly schools with strict academic standards like Oxford, Princeton, and Yale. Places where the best and the brightest graduated. He also knew how broke some graduate students were and how desperate they were for money.

  For a man like Dubois, it was a match made in heaven.

  Over the years, he had learned about corporate mergers long before they were announced, which allowed him to invest wisely and make millions. He had been warned of impending military actions, allowing him to protect his assets in several foreign countries. And he had compiled dirty laundry on enough politicians and royal families to ensure political favours whenever he needed

  Martin Müller was a doctoral student in finance at the Faculté des Hautes Études Commerciales. Often referred to as HEC Lausanne, it was the highly respected business school at the University of Lausanne in Switzerland. Having attended the university as an undergraduate and a graduate student, Müller had developed personal relationships with most of the faculty and was often asked to help exchange students get to know the campus. A few months earlier, a student from France had told him about François Dubois and the type of information he was looking for. Müller had laughed it off, thinking he wasn’t the type of person who consorted with criminals, but he wrote down Dubois’s hotline number, just in case.

  On the night of 9 December, Müller was glad that he had.

  One of Dubois’s associates answered the phone, but as soon as Müller explained why he was calling, he was immediately patched through to Dubois.

  ‘I understand you have some information for me,’ Dubois said in English.