The Temple Mount Code (32 page)

‘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 hesitate. ‘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 the 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.’

‘Our visit here is important.’

Namati nodded. ‘This is about that book Lev found, isn’t it?’

41

College of Social Sciences

University of Tehran

Tehran, the Islamic Republic of Iran

August 12, 2011

‘We didn’t discuss any of the particulars of our visit on the phone. What would make you ask that?’ Lourds regarded Professor Namati with increased interest.

‘Because if you actually have that book, your lives are in danger. You should have gathered that much from yesterday’s events.’ Namati studied them. ‘Though I suppose you already knew that.’

‘What makes you think that what happened yesterday had anything to do with a book Lev might have found?’

Namati shrugged. ‘Perhaps it didn’t. But the last time I talked to Lev, he’d mentioned bringing you in to look at the book. He was convinced that he’d gone as far as he could on it.’

‘Have you seen the book?’

‘Sadly, no. I was curious, but Lev felt the last place it should be was in Iran. There are people here that desperately want that book. Outside interest in what he was doing here caused Lev to leave before he’d finished his research.’

Miriam shifted slightly in her chair. ‘Why do you say the book is dangerous?’

Namati stared at her for a moment, then scratched his chin. He shifted his attention to Lourds. ‘Why is she here?’ He glanced at Miriam. ‘I mean no disrespect.’

Miriam stiffened slightly, and Lourds knew she was miffed, but to her credit she didn’t say anything.

‘I asked her to accompany me. Her Farsi is much better than mine.’

‘Really?’ Bright suspicion dawned in Namati’s eyes as he focused on Miriam. ‘How is it you speak Farsi so well?’

‘My father was born in Tehran,’ Miriam replied effortlessly in Farsi. ‘He spent most of his adolescence here, then went away to university and met my mother. He told me on many occasions, before I lost him, that love has a way of transporting a seed to new and fertile ground where it springs anew.’

Namati smiled, and his eyebrows raised in surprise. ‘You
do
speak Farsi well.’

‘Thank you. My father taught me the language and refused to let go of his heritage. My mother learned Farsi as well, and we spoke it often in our home.’