‘I didn’t know that.’
‘An education is a wonderful thing. The Umayyad caliph, Abd al-Malik ibn Marwan, assigned Salam and Haywah to build the Dome over the Foundation Stone. You’re familiar with that?’
‘In Hebrew, it’s called Even haShetiya. And it’s also called the Pierced Stone.’
‘Because of the small hole in it that enters a cavern beneath the rock.’
‘They call that the Well of Souls.’
‘Correct. According to Muslim beliefs, during the end of days, the Foundation Stone will join with al-Hajaru-l-Aswad, the black stone of Mecca that lies in the Kaaba, which is supposed to have come from the time of Adam and Eve.’
Miriam looked at him quietly. ‘Have you given much thought to the end of the world?’
‘Not much. If you ask me, dwelling on that is both wasteful and depressing.’
‘Why?’
‘The end of the world? Most depressing thing ever, don’t you think?’ He smiled.
She laughed, a pleasant sound in the nearly silent first-class compartment. ‘All right, I’ll give you that, but why do you think trying to figure anything out about the end of the world is wasteful?’
‘We’re talking about the will of God here. Figuring it out isn’t going to give you the power to change it. And most religions agree that the end isn’t something meant to be realized by mortal men until such time is upon them.’
Shifting in the chair, Miriam thought for a moment. ‘So, as a record of Yazid ibn Salam, this book is unique because so little is known about him.’
‘The fact that so little is known about him also works against us.’
‘How?’
‘Verifying the authenticity of the authorship of this book is going to be next to impossible.’
‘So we have to take it on faith.’
‘Amazing how much of that is involved in our little adventure, isn’t it?’ Lourds shook his head. ‘Lev believed he was onto something important. I believe in Lev. And we all have to believe in this book.’ He brushed at the cover and ran his fingers over the brass corner pieces. ‘I have to admit, I do like the way it’s constructed.’
‘Read some more of it.’
Glancing at her and seeing she was once more curled up in the chair and looking sleepy, Lourds smiled. ‘Bedtime story?’
‘Something like that.’
‘All right.’ Lourds paged through the book and made a selection. ‘It is said: “The Caliph in Jerusalem sought to build for the Muslims a masjid that should be unique and a wonder to the world. And in like manner, is it not evident that Caliph Abd al-Malik, seeing the greatness of the martyrdom of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and its magnificence, was moved lest it should dazzle the minds of Muslims and hence erected above the Rock the dome which is now seen there.”’
He kept reading, absorbed in the story and searching for clues amid the complexity of the language. He didn’t know Miriam had gone back to sleep until he felt her head sag onto his shoulder. Then he covered her with his blanket, left the book in his lap, and closed his eyes. Sleep came for him in a rush, and he dreamed of the many times he’d visited the Temple Mount, never once suspecting that he would be drawn into a mystery that involved it.
In the back of the plane, Mufarrij sat quietly and thought about entering the land of his enemies. When he had seen the attack at the checkpoint while waiting for the flight at Ben Gurion International Airport, he’d worried that Lourds might be killed and the trail all but washed away. Then, when he’d discovered the American professor had survived, he’d worried that Lourds might cancel his trip altogether.
Mufarrij had stood back in the waiting area until Lourds had booked a later flight, then bought a ticket for that same flight. The police and security people had held Lourds for a while, but eventually they’d released him, as they’d released all the other people who’d been present during the attack.
If some of the travelers to Istanbul and to Tehran hadn’t been killed in the attack, seats would not have been available for Lourds and his companion, or for Mufarrij.
God provides, Mufarrij reminded himself as he watched the first-class-section doorway. From his position, he could see the woman’s arm on her chair. He kept focused on that and bided his time.
While in Tehran, he would be in constant danger because of the price on his head, but he had gotten adept at slipping into and out of that country over the years. The Iranian Revolutionary Guard knew him by reputation, by the long line of dead men he’d left in his wake, but almost no one had seen him in the flesh. Any pictures they had of him were years out of date.
Under the circumstances, he knew he couldn’t feel any safer than he did at the moment.
Things would change in Tehran. He felt that in his bones.
40
Imam Khomeini International Airport
Tehran, the Islamic Republic of Iran
August 12, 2011
‘This is the captain. Please be advised that we’ll be landing in approximately twenty minutes. Put your seats in the upright position and return the trays. Temperature on the ground is twenty-two degrees Celsius. The local time is six fifteen. On behalf of Tehran, I bid you welcome.’
Lourds struggled to wakefulness, wiped at his eyes, yawned, and checked his satphone to make sure it had made the time change. He glanced at Miriam. ‘Want to grab breakfast at the hotel? Or get something in the airport?’
‘I can wait till we reach the hotel if you can. Things will be less stressful there.’
Before Lourds could ask her what she meant, she pushed up from the seat.
‘I’ll be right back.’ She walked down the aisle to the bathroom with her toiletry bag.
A few minutes later, she returned wearing a black hijab and burqa. Lourds stared at her.
‘What?’ She smoothed the burqa as she sat.
‘You’re Muslim?’
‘No.’ Miriam scowled. ‘And if I was, I wouldn’t buy into any part of religion that oppressed women.’
‘Then why are you wearing all that?’
‘Camouflage. And it’s worn under protest. If we’re going to meet with Professor Namati, there’s a good chance that he believes the modesty of women should be protected. If he’s a progressive thinker, we’re still meeting him at the university, and his peers might not feel so progressive. Then I’ll be protecting him as well as myself. And you.’
‘Oh.’ Lourds felt uncomfortable. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘For what?’ Miriam tucked the ends of the headdress, so the garment wouldn’t easily fly away.
‘I didn’t think about the pressures you would be under in this country when I asked you to come.’
Miriam focused on him, giving him a serious look. ‘Does that mean I get top billing on any paper we do on this?’
Surprised, Lourds laughed. She joined him.
‘No.’
‘So maybe I should think I’m wearing the hijab for you as well? Since you’re going to repress my valuable contributions to this?’
‘Ouch.’
As they deplaned, Lourds headed for the ground car pickups. ‘I suppose there is an advantage to having your luggage burn up in the back of a taxi. You don’t have to wait for your bags.’
‘We’re still going to need to do some shopping.’
‘Looking forward to it, are we?’
‘Yeah, I can’t wait to see how many colors and styles hijabs and burqas come in.’
‘I think you can get away with just wearing the hijab.’
‘Yes, but jeans mark me as a probable American or European immediately.’
‘I’m not taking off this hat, and I know it makes me stand out as well.’
‘Shopping. Soon. Before we meet with Professor Namati. The stores should open at ten, and there should be some close to the hotel.’
‘Your clothes burned up in the taxi, so maybe we can look at that as my responsibility. I’d be happy to buy you some new ones.’
Miriam didn’t hes
itate. ‘I’ll take you up on that, Professor Lourds.’
‘Within reason.’ Lourds shifted his backpack on his shoulder. ‘I’ll get you some money at the hotel.’
‘You’re not coming with me?’
‘Do you want company?’
‘You’re allowing me an hour of shopping, to get a whole outfit, in a foreign country, to represent myself in a nice way and still be true to myself, before we meet Professor Namati. Surely you can cut your sleep short enough to do that.’
The idea of watching the young woman try on clothes did sound fascinating to Lourds. He smiled. ‘All right. Just let me know when you’re ready.’
‘I’m ready now. I rolled on the pavement yesterday in these clothes, and I just got up from sleeping in them.’
‘I don’t think sleeping on the plane counts.’
‘Maybe not to you. I’m also ready for a bath.’
‘Professor Lourds!’
Miriam caught Lourds’s wrist in her hand and squeezed, already putting pressure on his arm to pull him along wherever she bolted. Lourds thought that was overreacting, but the day before had hardly been an average one.
A young man with an earnest expression stood a few yards away, holding a sign in English over his head: professor thomas lourds.
‘Ah.’ Lourds took Miriam by the elbow and guided her through the crowd departing the airport. ‘That must be the young college student Professor Namati assigned to drive us around. The government uses students to escort American and European scholars.’
‘New slave labor for graduate assistants?’
‘Actually, no. They’re more like a built-in spy network for the Revolutionary Guard.’
‘You’re serious.’
‘Very.’
‘Then why are we going with this guy?’
‘Because not going with him would be considered very suspicious.’ Lourds crossed the last few feet and offered his hand. ‘I’m Thomas Lourds.’
The young man dropped the sign he was holding to his side and took Lourds’s hand. He was small in stature, slender, with intelligent brown eyes and a sparse beard. He wore a striped pullover and khakis. ‘I am Reza al-Shahul. Professor Namati asked me to be your guide while you are here.’
‘Pleasure to meet you, Mr. al-Shahul.’
The young man smiled with polite amusement. ‘Please. Call me Reza. Everyone who knows me calls me Reza.’
‘All right, Reza.’ Lourds introduced Miriam.
She returned Reza’s greeting in flawless Farsi.
Lourds felt a twinge of envy. No matter how hard he’d worked, he still maintained something of an accent in Farsi. Many people said they couldn’t hear it, but he could. Miriam had no detectable accent of any kind.
Reza was obviously delighted and smiled hugely. ‘You are from this country?’
‘For a time. My father lived here. I learned the language from him. We visited several times before I lost him.’
‘I am sorry for your loss. A father is very important.’
‘I agree. Thank you. I don’t want to trouble you, Reza, but there is a favor I would like to ask.’
Reza’s smile didn’t falter. ‘Anything.’
‘Professor Lourds and I lost our baggage prior to boarding the plane.’
A scowl darkened Reza’s face. ‘I saw the incident on YouTube. A very terrible thing. I did not know the two of you were caught up in it.’
Lourds thought about that with interest. Many American influences, such as Internet sites and popular culture, were banned from Iran at the Ayatollah’s command.
‘I would like to go shopping briefly before Professor Lourds and I meet with Professor Namati.’
‘Of course. Just let me know when you would like me to pick you up.’
‘It’s six forty-five now. Would ten thirty be a problem?’
‘Not at all. If you’ll just follow me this way to the car, I’ll get you to the hotel.’
Lourds followed after the two of them, listening to them conversing in rapid-fire Farsi. He couldn’t help thinking that Reza didn’t look like a spy, but then spies rarely did.
Ferdowsi Grand Hotel
Ferdowsi Avenue
Tehran, the Islamic Republic of Iran
August 12, 2011
‘You’ll meet me in the lobby at ten thirty.’
Lourds wanted to groan. It was already almost eight. They’d stopped for a quick breakfast in the French restaurant downstairs. Reza had hesitantly agreed to join them, then had chatted incessantly about popular American movies he’d seen and books he’d read. He was evidently a big fan of Japanese manga as well, something that he shared with Miriam, which had also stunned Lourds.
‘Yes.’
Miriam didn’t appear happy with the lackluster answer he’d given. ‘Maybe it would be better if I came to get you, and we went down together.’
‘I really think Reza would be happy taking you shopping by yourself.’
She frowned at him. ‘That would mean Reza would have to return to the hotel to pick you up.’
‘I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.’
‘In order to do that, I’d have less time for shopping.’
Lourds held up his hands in surrender. ‘Come by the room if you want. You’re right next door.’
‘Okay. Thanks.’
Tiredly, Lourds slotted the hotel key, watched the lights flash green to admit access, then twisted the handle and walked into his room. He could barely keep his eyes open. His body ached from all that it had been through the day before, and from traveling most of the night.
He gazed around the room. No matter where he went, no matter what country, walking into a hotel room was most nearly always the same. The layout had to be the most homogenous thing of the twenty-first century.
He dropped his backpack onto the bed and fished out the book Lev had given his life for. Taking his boots off, he stepped up onto the bed, pulled his Swiss Army Tinker knife from his pocket, and selected the Phillips screwdriver. He removed the screws from the air-duct grille, made certain it was relatively dust-free, then wrapped the book in the plastic bag from the trash can and put it inside.
It wasn’t unusual for the hotel maids to go through guests’ belongings in Tehran – especially when they were visiting scholars. Other professors that Lourds knew had had their things searched while they were out of the room. The book, with its strange markings and language, might be enough to prompt petty theft.
He replaced the vent cover, undressed, and showered. Still naked, mostly dry, he toppled into the bed and was almost instantly asleep.
College of Social Sciences
University of Tehran
Tehran, the Islamic Republic of Iran
August 12, 2011
At the university, Reza led Lourds and Miriam to a modest office at the back of the building. Miriam wore her new clothes under the burqa and had opted for business casual rather than jeans. Lourds regretted the shapeless shift because it masked the slender, hard-muscled curves he’d noticed while she was trying on clothing. He’d resolved to take her shopping once more before they left the country, in order to properly resupply what she’d lost, of course, and take more time to enjoy the experience.
He’d gotten new clothing as well, but went with olive cargo pants and a dark red Oxford shirt that felt incredibly soft. He carried his backpack over his shoulder, lighter now that the book wasn’t inside it.
Reza knocked lightly at the door. ‘Professor Namati? Professor Lourds and his graduate assistant, Miriam Abata, are here.’
Behind the modest desk, Professor Hashem Nabi Namati glanced up from the yellow legal pad he was writing on. He was a short, square man dressed in a suit and sweater. His head was covered and his black beard was laced with gray. He removed his reading glasses and stood with a smile.
‘Welcome. Come in, come in.’
Lourds entered the office and took the man’s hand, at the same time taking in all the books and the artifacts on the shelves. One of th
e most outstanding was a statue of al-Buraq rearing proudly, his mighty wings spread. Several pictures on the wall showed Namati standing in a dhow, a lateen-rigged sailing vessel. In some of them, as an older man, he was with a little girl who smiled with excitement.
‘You sail?’
‘When the chance presents itself. Sadly, those chances come fewer and fewer these days.’ Namati smiled. ‘Not all of us get to travel the world locating sunken continents and lost temples.’
‘Well, Professor, all I can say is you’re not getting out of academia often enough. Those things are out there for the discovering. They’re not just waiting for me.’
‘From where I sit, it seems as though they are awaiting your attentions. I’m sure a lot of the world would agree with me. As for getting out of academia, I appear to be shackled here more often than not.’ Namati gestured to chairs in front of his desk. ‘Please, sit.’
Miriam sat in one of the chairs. Lourds took the other.
‘Reza, you should be able to find a chair in one of the other offices that isn’t being used.’
‘Professor Namati, if I may?’
‘Yes.’
Lourds glanced at Reza and felt slightly guilty, but he knew the likelihood of the young man’s being a spy to be a fairly good one. ‘I’d like to keep this private for a little while. If that’s all right.’
If Reza was put off by the dismissal, he didn’t show it. ‘Of course. I’ll just be down the hall when you’re ready to go.’ He left.
‘Would you like anything to drink?’ Namati spread his hands in invitation.
‘I think we’re good for the moment. I would like to take you to lunch later, if you can escape academia for that long.’
Namati laughed. ‘I cleared my schedule for you today. Lunch would be wonderful.’ He sat. ‘I have to admit, after what the two of you went through yesterday, I’m really surprised that you still showed up today.’
The Temple Mount Code Page 25
