“Can someone enter it from the outside? I mean, could a lab tech decide to come to the facility here early and just wander into the Nexus? What if that was a maintenance person holding a mop?”
“Sure,” said Paul. “Aside from the fact that this portion of the facility is behind a gated security entrance, there’s nothing to stop someone on the outside from coming here. We could come and go, for example, but I don’t advise we try it. The longer you are in a Nexus Point the more out of phase you are with the world outside it. That’s what causes the odd dissonance when you first cross the border. You have to re-phase with Time and the dissonance can be fairly debilitating, as I can attest!” ”
“So the Assassins could just rush in here and put us all to the sword?” Nordhausen was still digging.
“If they could see us,” said Paul, recalling the vision he had perceived. “My guess is that Time has a way of dissuading them because a Nexus Point is protected from the effects of causality. It’s like a Time out, to turn a phrase nicely, or a kind of neutral zone. Who really knows? If this is correct the Assassins know it would be foolish to try what you propose. And, well, we’re still here, so we might be out of phase in here, and therefore protected by other means as well. They could walk in and yet be unable to even see us!”
“Then who was that down in the garage?” The professor finally got to his point. “You say it appeared as if he was looking at you, coming toward you, as if aware of your presence?”
“What Kelly just said is very likely the culprit,” said Paul. “The Nexus probably contracted slightly with the power outage. I must have still been inside, but very near the border, and it was a near run thing. Perhaps I was right at the edge. In such an instance I might have started to re-phase with the outside Meridian and become vulnerable to causality, if only for a brief moment. Yes,” he concluded. “Whoever it was seemed as surprised to see me as I was to see them.”
“Someone with a sword?” Maeve had a dubious look on her face? “How likely is that in the Berkeley Hills at four in the morning?”
“The Fedayeen commandos!” said Nordhausen, half jokingly.
Paul raised an eyebrow, and gave him a serious look. “That may not be as far-fetched as it sounds,” he said. “Remember, this could be the only functioning Arch outside the control of the Assassins at the moment. They certainly know that, and I’m willing to bet they also know Kelly is missing from his exile at the edge of the Nile, ten thousand years ago. That means they know we’re up and running some kind of operation, and they also know who we are and what we’re capable of. This is their opus magnum—this operation against the outcome of Tours—and I would not put it past them to send someone here with bad intent.”
“To assassinate us?” The professor seemed indignant.
“We thought that impossible before,” said Paul, “but the fact that they might yet discover Time travel on their own if this operation succeeds makes us fair game. What was it De Gaulle said? Graveyards are full of indispensable men. You said it yourself, Robert. They should have cut my head off when they had me at Castle Masyaf, and perhaps the Sami was intending exactly that. They have shown great respect and an unwillingness to do any harm to fellow Walkers, as they call us Time travelers, but that may have changed given the importance of this operation. The Battle of Tours causes such a radical transformation that even we, the Founders, become expendable as far as Time is concerned. The Golems clearly indicate the overwhelming possibility of a Meridian forming where our lives would most likely be extinguished, as if we’d never been born.”
“But only if the transformation occurs,” said Maeve.
“Correct,” Paul agreed. “Yet LeGrand taught us that both sides have operatives at key moments in the Time Meridian—agents in place. I wouldn’t put it past them to have agents here, in our time, to keep a watch on what we do.”
They sat with that for a while. It was the second odd occurrence Paul had experienced that night, the first being the strange specter of Kelly walking through the glass door at the Harney Science Center. What was going on here? Time seemed to be fragmented, losing cohesion in the display of these odd effects.
Paul took a last sip of his coffee, and looked at the time. He could not think about it any longer. “It’s 4:30!” he complained. “We’re wasting time, not to mention vital fuel stocks. Did you find anything in the research that could lead us to a fulcrum on this event?”
“We found images of the stone they unearthed at Rosetta,” said Robert. “Thank God the information was still in the soup, as Kelly puts it. I was able to do a rudimentary translation. It contained an obvious warning about the battle, an admonishment for them to gather in all their cavalry and take no heed of the disturbance in the camp.”
“No,” said Maeve. “I think there was something more there. What was that line again about the wind?”
“The wind? Let me think. I believe it read: “Hold them fast… those who drink the wind… lest they trample thy endeavor… Or something to that effect.”
“Those who drink the wind,” said Maeve, deep in thought. “That really struck me. What was the name in that cartouche again?”
Nordhausen had to go back over to the monitor, peering in at the image of the stela again. “I make it Ke-hai-lan,” but its meaning eludes me.”
“Could it be Ku-hay-lan,” said Maeve, substituting a vowel in the first syllable to change the pronunciation.
“As you wish,” said the professor. “I still can’t recall any personage of importance by that name. Should we Google it?”
“But you said this cartouche was always accompanied by another symbol, a determinative, the symbol of the horse, correct?” Maeve was pulling on a rope and reeling the professor in.
“Yes, now that you mention it,” said Robert. “I took that to mean the cartouche held the name of one of the generals, an officer of cavalry. Would that help?”
“Well,” said Maeve definitively, folding her arms. “Kuhaylan is the name of one of the five major breeds of Arabian horses, a primal name.” She had owned horses most of her adult life, riding several times a week on the trails of the East Bay hills. “And get this—the name comes from a mythical tale about the Angel Jibrail, the Angel Gabriel for us, who comes to Ishmael sleeping in the desert, and wakes him with a dust storm, a whirling wind spout actually. When he awakens Jibrail orders the storm to abate, and it resolves to the shape of a horse, as if the horse had devoured the dust storm. So they gave the name Kuhaylan to this strain of Arabians, which means ‘Drinker of the Wind!’”
“That’s it then!” Robert clapped his hands together. “Look here!” He pointed at the stela again, searching for the lines he had translated earlier. “Yes, yes, here it is… ‘Hold them fast… those who drink the wind… lest they trample thy endeavor and the host is made to flee… For the unseen one that comes in the dusk shall unseat all….’”
“Then it’s not a royal personage in the cartouche,” said Maeve.”
Kelly put it more directly: “It’s talking about the damn horses,” he said. “Hold them fast… those who drink the wind… Perhaps it’s another warning to keep a firm hold on the cavalry. The charge broke and dissipated when there was a disturbance in the rear areas, and a good segment of the cavalry broke off to secure their loot.”
“Yes,” said Robert. “There was a warning inscribed about that earlier in the stela. Here… ‘stirrings of unrest… Heed them not, or the mighty host flees before the enemy, and many will die. Forsake all plunder, lest the road become the path of Martyrs. For he who would be slain must live…”