‘He has the army on his side. This engagement shouldn’t take long.’
‘That was said about Iraq. Both times.’
Behind the hotel, towards the heart of the city, more explosives ripped a naked skeleton of a building in progress to shreds. The steel girders collapsed and spilled into the street like a child’s game.
The president sighed tiredly. ‘This is getting to be a bed of snakes, Elliott.’
‘It’s always been a bed of snakes. The snakes are just more prevalent at the moment.’
Vicky turned to Webster with a look of surprise. ‘There are unidentified aircraft flying into the oil fields. Do you know anything about that?’
Webster shook his head.
‘What was that?’ the president asked. ‘Something about aircraft?’
‘Do you have anyone out there?’ Webster asked Vicky.
The woman shook her head. ‘So far, Prince Khalid’s forces have managed to keep the fighting from reaching the oil fields. I didn’t think we needed anyone in the area. I’ve got a team en route that way now.’
‘Never mind,’ the president said. ‘Evidently World News Network has picked up the story.’
‘WNN already has someone there,’ Webster told Vicky.
‘I know. How do you think I’m getting my information?’
Passage of Omens
Hagia Sophia Underground
Istanbul, Turkey
24 March 2010
‘You’re refusing to admit defeat, Professor Lourds,’ Joachim said accusingly. ‘That passageway, if it was ever here, isn’t here now.’ His frustrated voice echoed along the hall.
A few of the monks continued checking the wall, as did Cleena and Olympia.
Lourds refused to be distracted. He took a bottle of water from his backpack and reviewed his mental notes regarding his translation. He’d got the directions right. This was the tunnel. He was certain of that. But where was the hidden door?
‘We need to try somewhere else,’ Joachim said.
‘No,’ Lourds said. ‘It’s here.’
‘Then where is it?’
‘Obviously, it’s hidden.’ Lourds put away the water bottle. ‘The scroll said the Passage of Omens wouldn’t be found until the time was right.’
‘Then maybe the time isn’t right?’ Olympia joined them. Perspiration gleamed on her skin.
‘Don’t,’ Olympia told him. ‘We wouldn’t be this far if it weren’t for Thomas.’
‘We don’t know how far we are, do we?’ Joachim walked away to join the other monks and once more begin the assault on the wall.
‘For a monk, he doesn’t have a lot of faith, does he?’ Lourds asked.
Olympia sipped from a water bottle. ‘I can understand his frustration. Can you imagine having the kind of knowledge he’s had all these years and not being able to find the Joy Scroll?’
Lourds thought of the lost library of Alexandria and how he had spent the last twenty-something years chasing scraps of information, myths and rumours in an effort to locate whatever books might have survived that fire all those years ago.
‘Actually, I can imagine. And it is frustrating.’
Olympia looked down the passageway. ‘Is it possible that another tunnel was dug? That the one we’re actually looking for is on either side of us?’
‘We didn’t see another tunnel.’
‘That doesn’t mean there isn’t one. This area is honeycombed with tunnels. It’s worse than a rabbit’s warren.’
‘Reminds me a lot of London’s underground,’ Lourds admitted. ‘The underground beneath New York pales by comparison. At least the tunnels there are larger.’
‘You would think it would be easier to find a hidden passageway in this restricted space.’ Fatigue ate at Lourds as he stared into the darkness.
‘There were no other clues about the location?’
Lourds shook his head. ‘The scroll said the location of the Passage of Omens wouldn’t be revealed until the time was right.’
‘And what time would that be?’
An ungracious smile pulled at Lourds’ mouth. ‘It’s amazing how oblique things like this scroll can be when it comes to the concrete details.’
‘Surely there was something.’
Lourds quoted. ‘Only a fearful and penitent man will find the doorway to the Passage of Omens. The righteous will never know the way.’’
‘That’s all it said?’
‘That’s all. Other than the directions of how to get here.’ A thought suddenly struck Lourds and he wondered why he had not realized it before. He strode forwards, back to his original location in the tunnel. ‘A fearful and penitent man. Not a righteous one.’
‘Thomas?’ Olympia trailed after him and her movement attracted the attention of everyone else in the passageway.
Lourds silently cursed himself. At the spot he had marked, he dropped to his knees and looked at the floor. Carefully, he used his free hand to brush away
Joachim paused. ‘I’ve found something.’ He shone his light on one of the stones. ‘There’s writing here. I can’t read it.’
Lourds walked over and squatted down beside him. The writing was there, but it was almost illegible, almost worn away by the passage of feet and time. He took his water bottle from his backpack, unscrewed the cap and poured some water onto the engraved stone washing the inscription and making it easier to read, but the shadows were deceptive even after Lourds dried the area with a shirt sleeve.
Taking his journal from his backpack, Lourds laid a page over the inscription and made a rubbing. The result was even clearer. He held up the page and Joachim trained his flashlight on it.
‘You can read this?’ Joachim asked.
‘I can,’ Lourds replied. ‘It’s the same language that was in the scroll.’ He worked the translation in his head, then said it out loud. ‘Look to God for the answers that you seek.’
Joachim trained his beam on the ceiling. Spider webs obscured the roof over the passageway.
Lourds put his journal away and stood. He took his shirt off, stripping down to his undershirt, then he
The Passage of Omens.
Passage of Omens
Hagia Sophia Underground
Istanbul, Turkey
24 March 2010
Joachim and another of the monks held Lourds’ feet and boosted him towards the ceiling. He swayed drunkenly at first, then caught his balance and easily made the ascent. He braced himself with one hand against the ceiling while he inspected the inscribed stone with the other.
‘Perhaps you could hurry, Professor Lourds,’ the monk suggested.
‘Oh. Sorry.’ Lourds wanted to get a rubbing of the stone but that didn’t seem feasible at the moment. He turned his attention to finding a locking release mechanism. The entrance was defined by the small cracks around it. The doorway looked scarcely large enough for a grown man to crawl through. Joachim and the monk were straining in their efforts to hold Lourds when he found the release. Something clicked within the stone door. Lourds had thought the door would open outwards and had prepared himself for that eventuality. Instead, the door remained in place. Tentatively,
‘Come on down,’ Joachim said. ‘Let’s regroup and think about our next—’
Overcome by curiosity, Lourds tossed his flashlight through the opening and caught the edges in both hands. He flexed his knees and pushed against Joachim and the other monk, knocking them off balance and sending them toppling to the floor. Joachim protested, scrambling to his feet. Lourds barely even considered apologizing. He didn’t get enough spring from his jump to get him through the opening, but it brought him closer. He hoisted himself up, then through, and into the hidden passageway. Panting from the exertion, almost vibrating with excitement, Lourds picked up his flashlight and played the beam round the room. The passageway was narrow and ran between two short walls that held a succession of beautiful mosaics.
‘Lourds,’ Joachim bellowed from below, ‘come back.’
&
nbsp; Lourds couldn’t have come back. His fascination was too complete. He saw images taken from the Old Testament. In one mosaic God created man, in another God cast an angel from heaven. A third showed an angel with a flaming sword driving Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden.
Another flashlight beam joined Lourds’ as he walked along the passageway. He barely took any notice of Joachim who was overcome by everything that he saw
‘Oh my God,’ Olympia whispered. Her voice, trapped in the small enclosure, sounded loud. ‘These are beautiful.’
‘More than that,’ Lourds told her, ‘they’re history.’ He reached out and touched a mosaic depicting Noah’s ark surging across a storm-tossed sea.
‘These are from God’s holy Word,’ Joachim said. ‘Not just history.’
Lourds didn’t bother to argue the point. He was consumed by what he saw.
‘You could spend years studying everything in this passageway,’ Olympia said. ‘The subject matter. The artists involved. The media and techniques used.’
‘Not exactly what we’re here for,’ Cleena said. She didn’t seem to be awed by the history surrounding her.
‘She’s right,’ Joachim said. ‘Where’s the Joy Scroll?’
Lourds pressed on. ‘The scroll didn’t mention the actual location, but it did say the answers were here.’
The tunnel ended only a short distance ahead. Lourds shone his light over the small room and saw more mosaics on the walls.
‘There are candles.’ Olympia picked out the iron sconces on either side of the entrance with her flashlight beam.
Forcibly, Lourds tore his attention from the mosaics on the other side of the room and pulled out his lighter. The conditions inside the passage had remained
The four mosaics showed different images but were framed with similar white borders that stood out starkly against the stone walls. The first mosaic showed a cistern where an upside down Medusa head was submerged in blue water.
‘That’s the Basilica Cistern,’ Olympia said.
Lourds nodded in agreement. With the Medusa head in the mosaic, it could be no other place. An inscription, done in tiny bright stones, threaded through the bottom of the mosaic.
‘What does it say?’ Joachim asked.
‘ “ When the monster’s head rights itself, you will see the first sign of the approaching apocalypse. Only the Joy Scroll may prevent the Great Deceiver’s lies. Your journey begins here.” ’
Lourds opened his backpack and took out his digital camera. He quickly took several images of the mosaics in turn. He also wrote the information down in his journal. Then he moved on to the second mosaic which showed a picture of a church with a domed
‘What place is that?’ Cleena asked.
‘Golgotha,’ Lourds answered.
‘Where Jesus was crucified and laid to rest,’ Joachim explained. ‘It’s in Jerusalem’s Old City.’
‘It’s also where the True Cross was kept for a time,’ Olympia added. ‘Constantine’s mother, Helena, ordered the Bishop of Jerusalem to build the church there. As soon as it was built, Christian pilgrimages to it began. Unfortunately the church was a centre of unrest for a long time. The fragments of the True Cross were lost to Muslim invaders at the end of the tenth century. Tariq al-Hakim, one of the caliphs, destroyed the church all the way down to the bedrock as a protest against Easter pilgrimages.’
‘The downside of tourism,’ Lourds commented. ‘Al-Hakim’s son Ali az-Zahir agreed to let Constantine the Eighth rebuild the church, but it wasn’t until the arrival of the Crusaders that the church was once more made whole. Since that time, it’s been damaged on a number of occasions.’
‘This inscription looks different to the first,’ Olympia observed.
‘It is.’ Lourds wrote in his journal as he translated. ‘ “Two Brothers will make war on each other, believers both in a new prophet yet to be born of the Word, and they will fight over the return of my Son.” ’
‘The only new prophet born after Jesus is Mohammed,’ Olympia said.
‘Also a valuable document of history,’ Lourds said. ‘But if I had to guess, I’d guess that the prophet this is referring to was Mohammed.’ He nodded at the mosaic. ‘There’s more. It says, “When the shadow of the True Cross returns to the temple of our Saviour, you will know that the End of Days is near.” ’
‘How is the shadow of the True Cross supposed to return to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre?’ Olympia asked. ‘The True Cross was destroyed and lost for ever.’
‘I don’t know,’ Lourds answered. ‘I’m only reading what’s here.’ He moved on to a third mosaic.
‘This looks like another picture of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre,’ Cleena said, ‘except this one has a weeping woman.’
‘Not a woman,’ Joachim said. ‘Mary, the mother of Jesus.’ Mary’s head was also surrounded by a glowing halo.
‘New Jerusalem Church,’ Lourds said. ‘I’ve been there. They have a fantastic collection of Greek and Slavonic manuscripts. Patriarch Nikon, Nikita Minin, belonged to the Russian Orthodox Church. As its seventh patriarch, he instigated a number of reforms. Unfortunately, they ended up splitting the church and incurring disfavour with Tsar Alexius, who until that point had been his best friend and a source of financing.’
‘New Jerusalem Church has been returned to a monastery,’ Joachim said.
‘What does this inscription say?’ Olympia asked.
‘ “A great friend of the Church will fall, but not before he rises up an echo of the final resting place of our blessed Saviour. When the statue of his blessed Mother weeps, you will know the end of the world is near.” ’
‘Doesn’t exactly sound hopeful, does it?’ Cleena asked.
‘We wouldn’t have been sent here if there was nothing we could do,’ Joachim stated. ‘We all have a purpose in this place.’
The fourth mosaic showed orange trees round a fountain. A church was in the background, but had Islamic architecture instead of Byzantine or Gothic. Lourds knew the church’s long and interesting history because he’d studied there for a time.
‘This church, I’m supposing it’s a church, doesn’t look like the other two,’ Cleena commented.
‘It’s a church,’ Olympia replied. ‘This is the Great Mosque of Cordoba. Also known as the Mezquita.’
‘A mosque isn’t a place where I’d expect to find Christian artefacts.’
‘The two cultures have regularly tramped the same grounds,’ Olympia said. ‘Just as the Hagia Sophia, for a time, became an Islamic church, so did the Great Mosque of Cordoba in Spain.’
‘No, it began as a Visigoth church.’
‘I’m not going to pretend I know what that is.’
‘They were the East Germanic tribe of the Goths. Not the vampire wannabes.’
‘That, I had figured.’
‘Just checking. I don’t want to go too fast for you.’
‘I’ll let you know if you do.’
‘Anyway,’ Olympia continued, ‘the Visigoths began the church there in 600 AD. Then the Muslims arrived. Emir Abd ar-Rahman I annexed it and named it in honour of his wife. He began the reconstruction, which lasted for two hundred years.’
‘So who owns it now?’
‘King Ferdinand III of Castile took the church back in 1236 and it eventually became called the Cathedral of the Assumption of the Virgin.’
‘What does the inscription on this one have to say?’
Lourds leaned in for a better look. Then he translated, ‘ “At the church that is a crossroads where the east meets the west and both of those revere the Holy Mother, there will be made a pool. When the waters of the pool run red with blood, the end of the world will be near.” ’
‘And this is supposed to help us?’ Cleena asked. ‘This isn’t even a good pep talk.’
‘Don’t blaspheme,’ Joachim admonished her.
‘You don’t realize how astonishing this is,’ Lourds said. ‘John of Patmos died hundreds of years before the Grea
t Mosque of Cordoba was constructed. Any
Lourds’ mind worried at the information. Nothing in his education had prepared him for something like this. Of course, he hadn’t been prepared for Atlantis either.
‘Working out how that guy knew all this stuff isn’t going to help us now,’ Cleena said.
Joachim said, ‘Now you are the one who should be patient.’
Cleena ignored him. ‘So where is the Joy Scroll?’
Lourds stepped back from the wall and tried to take in the room.
‘If the scroll isn’t here, shouldn’t there be another clue?’
Staring at the mosaics, Lourds felt as though there were something he was missing. He was also certain that it was right in front of him, as plain as the nose on his face. Something about the mosaics. Something in the background. But it wasn’t visible to the casual eye. He took a deep breath and let it out, letting his mind soak up everything in the room. The candle flames wavered only slightly and caused brief shadows to scamper across the mosaic surfaces.
Just as he almost had it, he reached for it and it disappeared, eluded his grasp like fog. The mosaics all had amazing perspectives. They looked three dimensional, just like someone could – Lourds focused,
‘Thomas, what are you doing?’ Olympia asked.
‘It’s got to be here. There’s no reason to hide the scroll any more. This room, this passage, that was the secret. The scroll was hidden here. It still is.’
As his body shifted in front of the mosaics, his shadow drifted across them. And a momentary flicker on the second mosaic caught his eye. It had only been a subtle shifting of shadows. When he tried to touch the spot, his fingers seemed to pass through the mosaic. Once the illusion was broken, he saw how clever the artist had truly been. There in the final resting place of Jesus, Lourds found the hole that contained a cylindrical shape. He smiled both at his own cleverness as well as that of the designer.
He drew a scroll from within the depths. The cylinder was made of carved wood and held only a few words in the language that Lourds had only just learned. When translated, they read: The Joy.
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