by Thorpe, K.
After speaking with several peons and a few officials, all of whom ogle her relentlessly, Natan finds herself and a Mexican guard maneuvering through streams of holding cells, heading toward the end of several crowded rows. She comes to the last cell in the row and sees a disheveled, haggard Professor Sails sitting on the floor, scribbling notes in the dust with his index finger. The cell is furniture-less and has a hole in the floor near the corner for use as a bathroom.
“Lovely accommodations,” Natan quips under her breath. She stands in front of Josh, eyeing the symbols etched in the dirt. Natan speaks through the bars, “Professor Sails?”
Josh jumps up and dusts his hands off. “Agent Natan?”
Natan nods yes. How does this guy know me?
Josh gushes his thanks. “Thank God. Thank you for coming.”
Natan can’t help but notice Josh’s flamboyant Hawaiian attire. “Nice shirt. I can come back if you’d like to finish your game of tic-tac-toe.” Natan sniffs the air.
Josh smirks. “Yeah, that’s me. Sorry about that. They’re not as hospitable here as they are at the resort down the way.”
“I’ll bet not.” Natan directs her attention to the guard and says in Spanish, “Open it.” The guard opens the door with a large metal key.
“Thank you again,” Josh says. “I’m grateful that you got here so quickly. I was actually just trying to rewrite some notes that were lost when I was arrested…trying to keep my memory fresh. And, I need to get my backpack. It has the rest of my equipment and research.” Josh directs his attention to the guard, speaking in Spanish. “Where’s my bag?”
The guard responds tersely in Spanish, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” offended that the low-life American prisoner would speak to him.
Natan interrupts, “We’ll speak with the official here who facilitated your release.”
Josh whispers in Natan’s ear. “I need that bag, Agent Natan. It has irreplaceable data in it…information that could affect national security.”
Natan stops him with her hand. “Now is not the time, but I promise you I will understand why it is I flew several thousand miles at your request.”
“You will,” he reassures her.
The two walk down the corridor that Natan came in. Natan maneuvers away from Josh as they walk because of the smell.
Chapter Five
Agent Natan and a still untidy, freshly released Professor Sails sit together in a nearly vacant first class section of a cabin on a civilian plane returning to D.C. Josh glances around to ensure that no one is listening. He leans into Natan, speaking in a lowered voice. “As I said, it’s a long and unbelievable story. So, please bear with me and I think you’ll understand more once I’m finished.”
Natan waves her glass of sparkling water in front of Josh as an instruction for him to proceed as she listens, chewing ice.
He continues, “I’ve been doing mathematical iconography work for the university for the last five years, focusing on ancient Mayan symbols. Several months ago I began investigating the codes in the Old Testament of the Bible, what some people call the “Bible Code.” Both skeptics and believers have been researching the Code since before Isaac Newton. At various points in history interest has either waned or gained momentum, depending on historical circumstance. The Code has gotten more attention the last few years, particularly after September 11th.
“The Bible Code? Is that the idea that there is a secret code in the Bible that can supposedly predict the future?” Natan asks.
An elated Josh replies, “Yes. Exactly. However, links to the Mayans in the Bible Code are not well known. I found some interesting clues in the Mayan matrices of the Code that no one else has uncovered.”
Natan interjects, “Matrices?”
“To find the Code, the letters on a page of text in the Bible are arranged in a matrix. For a sequence of letters a number is selected, and using that number, we move forward by that number repeatedly throughout the text, which reveals certain words or phrases. This is called equidistant letter sequencing, or E.L.S. The closer the words or phrases are within the matrix or matrices, the more likely there is a correlation.”
Natan looks confused. “I still don’t understand what all of this has to do with the N.S.A. and with me.”
“Please bear with me and I’ll get to that. I wanted to dismiss the Code and Mayan connections so that I could continue my iconography work, but as I said, I found an undiscovered connection to the Mayan calendar end date.”
“A connection to what?”
“The Mayan calendar ends in December of 2012…many researchers have speculated about whether this is the date of the end of the world. After what I saw in Mexico, I believe it to be.”
Natan contains her laughter as she quaffs her beverage. “You’re kidding, right?”
Josh maintains his seriousness. “No. I came to Mexico because I found clues in the Code revealing a hidden riddle of symbols in the ruins. I had to find out if this riddle really exists. These thirteen hidden symbols were supposedly only revealed every six and a half years, only visible at a specific time of day. The Mayans' calendar is measured in baktuns, which are specific segments of time. Six and a half years represents the period of half of the thirteen baktuns. 2006 and 2012 are the last dates listed for opportunities to access these hidden symbols before the calendar runs out.”
“And, why can this event happen only every six or so years?” Natan asks.
“It has to do with the solar cycle.”
“You’re telling me the Mayans knew what the sun would be doing centuries after their demise?”
“Astronomy was integral to every aspect of Mayan life. Many historians say that the Mayans were actually the founders of quantum physics,” Josh explains.
Natan's skepticism gets the best of her. “Wow. Do you think they invented the iPod too, and Steve Jobs just took the credit?”
“There is substantial data to support the Mayans' mathematical and astronomical advancements.”
Natan isn’t convinced. “Did you find the symbols?”
“I found seven of the thirteen but the Mexican military arrived before I could get the last six. But…I did find them, exactly as described in the Code matrices with the exact coordinates.
“How did you get caught, by the way?”
Josh lowers his head in shame. “My G.P.S. gave me away.”
Natan shakes her head. “All this trouble and racking up of airline miles…because you forgot to hit the off button?”
“What can I say? I’m no special agent.”
“I guess not.” Natan observes Josh’s face as it reflects a complete belief in what he’s telling her. “So, you risk ending up as someone’s stand-in girlfriend…an international one at that…in a Mexican jail because you think this Bible Code is really true and is predicting the end of the world…for a date in December of 2012?” Josh nods his head yes. Natan continues, “So, let’s say for a moment that this crazy theory is true. What do the symbols say and what good are they if you don’t have all of them? Not to mention, again, what this has to do with me and the N.S.A.?”
“I have to decipher the symbols I do have to find their full significance. My guess is that if the end date is accurate, then they may be able to provide information to us so that we can find a way to stop it. And I have more than half of the symbols, so there’s a good chance I may still be able to extrapolate the data. Now, if the end date in December of 2012 is really valid, then I would say that the world ending in six years is an N.S.A. issue.” Josh waits for a response. Natan sits speechless and in disbelief. Josh continues. “I realize it’s difficult to believe. I didn’t know what to say about it at first either.”
“Oh, I know what to say. I’m just trying to be polite,” she replies.
“You think I’m crazy?”
“I think the Bible preventing its own supposed prediction of Armageddon is about as realistic as the current administration holding itself accountable for impr
oper conduct. Don’t get me wrong. I find this whole thing fascinating…in a Hollywood blockbuster movie sort of way.”
“I’ve seen this with my own eyes. I have proof from the ruins themselves,” Josh asserts.
“If you’re referring to a bunch of stones and some dinnerware from several thousand years ago, I don’t think that counts as proof to me. I need hard facts.”
Josh looks around again, grabs his gear and reaches down into his bag. He pulls his scribbled writings and shaded sketches out to show her. “This may help. Here…” Josh hands them to her.
“What’s this?” Natan takes them.
“Data. This is the riddle that I copied off of the inner circle of the Mayan altar as the sun elapsed onto each segment of the chosen symbol.” Josh points to the shadings of the segments in her hand. “These are the thirteen segments, each with their own symbols that reflect the phases of the moon. These thirteen segments can be compared to our twelve months. This is the proof. The Code is valid.”
Natan has no idea what she’s looking at. “I don’t know. It’s all Greek to me. Do you have any other data to support this? I mean are your results verifiable or is this all random chance?”
“The mathematical probability of all of the information that I found regarding the riddle at the ruins occurring within the same matrices of the decoded Bible text is a billion-to-one or greater.” Josh tries again. “Can you understand the significance of what I’m telling you?”
“Professor, please pardon my directness here, but as I said, I’m a fact-based person.” Natan shifts in her seat, the strain of the trip and the story wearing on her. “Let me tell you where I’m coming from. The Bible is a collection of stories that were written by a bunch of men who wanted to control the collective consciousness of the masses. Facilitating control was the purpose, not fact or truth.” Josh looks dumbfounded. Natan continues. “Did you know that there is actually a passage in the Bible that says that a woman can’t sleep in bed next to her husband if she’s menstruating? I mean…is that some sort of code for the prediction of P.M.S. or what?”
“There is substance to this, Agent Natan. This is not a joke. I am gravely concerned about what lies ahead.”
“If this Bible Code could provide me with say…Osama bin Laden’s location, I think I’d be interested. I mean, information like that would be invaluable, otherwise…” Natan trails off.
“I understand your skepticism. I felt the same way. Agent Natan, I really need your help here.”
Natan balks, “You’re out of jail…on your way back to D.C. What do you need me for?”
“I need someone with connections inside the intelligence arena.”
“Hey, you got the section chief of the N.S.A. to send me to your rescue. I think you have plenty of connections.”
“There’s more to this than just what I’ve told you,” Josh says.
The flight attendant comes on over the loudspeaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re about to begin our descent into the D.C. area. Please place your seats and tray tables in their upright positions…”
Josh leans in, whispering in Natan’s ear, “Please just think about it.” Natan nods her head okay, while her eyes reveal that she won’t give it a second thought. Josh leans back into his seat. If she doesn’t believe this, what will she say when she finds out the rest?
Chapter Six
A broken morning sunbeam streams in through James Baxter's office window, reflecting on one of his many pictures with top government officials. The light stream highlights the picture of Baxter, the head of the N.S.A., with the U.S. President, as the two stand arm in arm, exchanging monetary and powerful favors that the photo holds secret. Baxter believes his choice to adorn his office with his powerful connections helps convey his own power. He is unaware that it really conveys his inability to stand on his own.
Fifty-seven-year-old Baxter, a hard-looking man, stands at his window looking out over the city. He holds a manila file in his hand. A knock on the door disturbs Baxter’s narcissistic brooding. “Come in,” he answers the interruption sternly.
Baxter’s handpicked, aggressively polished yes agent enters the office, weakly closing the door behind him. Baxter’s demeanor lightens.
The agent approaches Baxter’s desk. “Sir, I got the information on that Boston report you requested.” The office door remains cracked just slightly.
Outside the office Alice walks down the hallway in front of Baxter’s office on the way to a meeting and hears the beginnings of the conversation. Reacting as the field agent she once was, she slows to listen.
Baxter’s voice reverberates firmly. “Did you find anything incriminating on Agent Natan? Or did it all match this report about her fine work?”
Alice’s attention piques.
The agent responds, “Not quite, Sir. Our sources say that it was virtually impossible for Special Agent Natan to have intercepted all of the information she provided. She knew things that just couldn’t have been known without inside capability.”
Alice continues listening, the concerned look on her face growing with each passing second.
Baxter replies, “You wanna tell me how she got it then? We better be damn sure we have proof if we’re accusing one of the N.S.A. special agents of improper conduct, especially this agent. She’s been commended by the President, for Christ sakes.”
“I’m aware of that, Sir, and I’m still investigating it,” the agent replies.
“Any other data you get on this comes to me immediately, understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Anyone asking questions about you looking into this?” Baxter asks.
“No, Sir. But there is one other thing. Special Agent Natan was requested to recover a research professor who was arrested in Mexico. This is outside of N.S.A. protocol. Marsh issued the order so I don’t think the issues are related. I just wanted to be sure that you knew about it.’
“I spoke with Marsh this morning. This came from him. It was a Congressional favor of some kind, but look into it anyway.”
“Anything else, Sir?”
“That’ll be all.” Baxter’s voice trails off.
Alice rushes from the door, maneuvering into a corner out of sight. Oh Kate. What have you gotten yourself into?
Chapter Seven
Inside the N.S.A. building Agent Natan walks from the elevator to Marsh’s office. She gets to the door and knocks lightly. Marsh’s voice can be heard from behind the door, “It’s about time.” Agent Natan smiles to herself as she enters the office. She sees Marsh sitting at his desk.
A confident Natan approaches. “Sir.”
Marsh acknowledges this confidence, “Agent Natan, looks like you got back in one piece. That’s always a good thing. Everything complete?”
“Yes, Sir. The professor arrived with me at Dulles yesterday in the evening in time for dinner and we parted ways at customs, Sir.”
“Glad to see that everything’s taken care of. I appreciate you handling this.”
“No problem, Sir.”
“Well, Agent Natan, no need to waste any more of your day in my office. I’m sure Agent Knight is champing at the bit to have you back.”
Natan smiles. “Yes, Sir. I’m sure he is.”
Natan starts to leave.
“Agent Natan.” Marsh’s words stop her.
Natan turns back to him. “Sir?”
Marsh smiles. “Be sure to keep that rookie in line.”
“Always, Sir.”
Natan leaves the office and makes her way down the corridor. A female co-worker approaches her. “Agent Natan. You have a call on line two. A professor from Maryland University.”
Natan reaches for her cell phone. “Patch it through to my cell, will ya?”
Chapter Eight
Agent Natan enters Maryland University, meandering her way through hallways in her attempts to find the math department. The corridors echo with a hollowness in between that of a hospital and a church, an academic feel that re
flects the warranted sense of an emptiness not prescribed or ascribed but earned. Signs guide her to the graduate department where Professor Sails’ office awaits her.
A closed door with a name plate that reads “Professor Josh Sails” greets her as she arrives. Natan knocks on the door. “Professor Sails?” There is no answer. Natan steps away from the door and looks around. She stands in the hallway waiting for Josh for several moments. He finally approaches, clean-shaven, looking completely vibrant, unknowingly revealing his handsomeness to Natan.
“Sorry I’m a little late. Thank you for driving up…and for waiting,” he says as he quickly unlocks the door.
Natan remains in shock about Josh’s kempt-ness.
“Agent Natan, did you hear me? I apologized for being late,” he says.
Natan gathers her senses. “You said lives could be at stake. And, I must tell you that this puts me in an awkward place with agency protocol by coming here.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t,” he teases.
Josh opens the door and they enter his clutter filled office. Papers and Hebrew text documents emanate from the desk and spread like a virus throughout the office space. A paper-cluttered sofa lines one of the walls. Natan is appalled by the extraordinary disarray and attempts to contain her disapproval. “Wow, it’s like paper hell in here.”
“I’m not even going to respond to that.” Josh gets to his desk and begins rifling through papers. Where is it? He sees a manila envelope and picks it up. “Ah, here.”
Josh hands the envelope to Natan.
“What is this?” she asks, taking the envelope.
“Just open it,” he replies.
Natan opens the envelope and finds a photo of Josh and herself at the airport returning from Mexico along with a letter. The words in the letter are composed of cut-out letters from magazines against a backdrop of a single white page.
The letter reads “I know who she is.”
Natan holds the page up in front of Josh. “Where did you get this?”