“Yes,” said Maeve quietly. “And if I read you, Doctor, and I read very well, I would say you are not at all happy with our accomplishments.”
LeGrand sighed heavily. “Well, there it is,” he said. “We want things our way—you want them yours.”
“And the Assassins want them another way,” Maeve finished.
“Yes,” said LeGrand quickly. “We’ve seen the world they want. We’ve lived in it. Believe me, madam, you would understand our motives quite well after a year or two in the Chador. I don’t think a woman of great spirit, such as yourself, would abide Islamic Sharia very long without going quite insane. Is that what you want?”
“It’s not what I want that matters here, Doctor,” said Maeve. “It’s what you want that I’m concerned about now.”
“Me? You mean the Order? Why, we want the world we fought for, died for by the thousands. We want the destiny that Christendom so richly deserves, along with the spread of freedom and democracy, in a world where individual rights are respected, and the dignity of women is upheld.”
“Doctor LeGrand,” said Maeve, “just a moment ago you were telling me how inconvenient it was that a billion Muslims were sitting on all that petroleum. You were lamenting that things might have been better if they were all shunted away on some island, safely out of the way. I must say, other men have gone about with the words freedom, equality and fraternity on their lips, and spread more misery across the globe than all the so called terrorists that ever lived. Take your friend, Napoleon, as a perfect example.” She folded her arms, her point well made.
“I can see that this is leading us nowhere,” LeGrand sighed. “Well, it hardly matters. You’re here for the discovery, and so am I. My offer to lead you to the site still stands, if you can abide my company.” He looked askance at Maeve, a wounded look on his face.
“Just a moment,” Nordhausen spoke up. “If you two are done with politics I should like to have some answers myself. You say your computers indicated a variation for this milieu.”
“Of course,” said LeGrand. “The Ismaili Assassins are up to no good again. It has something to do with the stone, and the hieroglyphics. Who knows?”
“Then you believe they are responsible for the damage to the stone?”
“Who else?” LeGrand opened his palms, his jovial eyes reflecting the sincerity of his conclusion.
“But why, Doctor, have you reasoned that?”
“Why? That’s is not my charge. I’m an agent in place. It’s my job to observe, report, and execute specific instructions. Let Research and Outcomes quarrel over the rest.”
Nordhausen thought for a moment. “And how do you receive your instructions?”
“What? Oh, by special courier. We’ve learned that’s the only safe way to transmit orders. Just a little Spook Job, you see. All the agents have rounds to make, and places to be on particular days. We plan things very well. This entire week I was to be billeted here at the inn, during the run up to the discovery of the stone. The Order knew my whereabouts and sent someone through with a message last night. It’s really quite simple—in and out, a cool minute in eternity. We’ve perfected the technique quite welclass="underline" Delphi and the oracle, the burning bush that spoke to Moses in the desert, the sudden appearance of apparitions. It’s really great fun.”
“I see,” said Nordhausen. “Well it may please you to know that I think I ran into a messenger from the other side during my stay in Wadi Rumm.”
“Oh?” LeGrand perked up, suddenly interested. “Do go on, Professor.”
Robert looked at Maeve, but hearing no immediate protest he began to explain. “He called himself Rasil, the Messenger, and claimed he was to use the Well of Souls to reach Castle Massif with certain instructions. I didn’t know his destination at the time. That was not confirmed until Kelly and Maeve ran down the vectors and pulled Paul out. But the curious thing about this is—”
“That will be quite enough, Robert.” Maeve had heard a little more than she was comfortable with.
LeGrand looked surprised. “What? I was quite forthcoming with both of you. We’re in a Nexus. Please, rest assured.”
“I’m afraid not.” Maeve folded her arms, shaking her head in the contrary.
“But madam, please. I can assure you that—”
“You have assured me of one thing already, Doctor,” said Maeve. “And that is this: until I have time to reflect on this matter further, I must consider you, and your Order, to be the gravest possible threat to the integrity of the continuum, and I will do everything in my power to see that your tampering is put to an end.”
18
Maeve’s pronouncement fell like a stone in the pool of silence that now filled the room. The ripples played over the expression of both Nordhausen and LeGrand, who looked at each other, and then back at her.
“Come, Robert. I think it’s time we leave.”
“Now, Maeve,” Robert began, but Maeve answered by getting up and striding to the door, obviously intent on vacating the premises at once, with or without her friend. Robert gaped at her as she went out the door, then turned briefly to LeGrand and stood up quickly to follow.
“I’m very sorry,” he tried to apologize.
“This is most irregular,” said LeGrand, a look of amazement on his face. “What about the discovery? I’ve made all the arrangements. And where will you sleep? Doesn’t that woman realize it’s a dangerous world out there?”
“Only too well, I suppose,” said Nordhausen. “Look, I must get after her, you understand. Please forgive me.” He extended an arm in a quick, apologetic gesture, and set off after Maeve, one hand straightening his wig as he went.
By the time he caught up with her, she was out through the courtyard and exiting the gate to the inn. The sun had climbed high during their conversation, and the mid-day heat was beginning to radiate from the dry landforms about them. A saving breeze was still blowing in off the ocean to the north, but it was going to be very uncomfortable out in the open sun. Maeve had already opened her parasol and was slowing her gait somewhat to let Robert catch up.
“Really,” he said, somewhat out of breath. “Was it necessary to make a scene like that?”
“It was.”
“But I don’t understand—the man was only trying to help us. He had quarters arranged, tea, and no doubt there would have been some breakfast in the bargain as well. He knows exactly where the discovery site is, and now we’ll just have to bungle about on our own because of your stubborn—”
“Leave it, Robert. Either you weren’t listening in there or you have a severe case of time lag. The man is dangerous, don’t you understand?” She kept walking, heading east, in the general direction of the town center. Robert was pulled along with her.
“Dangerous? What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you get it? The man is an agent.”
“But he’s merely observing,” Robert explained. “He’s standing a watch on the milieu—”
“And executing instructions he receives by courier. It’s the same scenario Paul stumbled into at Castle Massiaf. You were just about to explain it to him, yes?”
“Well, of course!” Robert did not see the danger that was obviously so apparent to Maeve.
“You were going to tell him about the scroll, the hieroglyphics, everything. In fact, I’ll bet you couldn’t wait to translate the message Rasil was carrying. Didn’t you hear? They were trying to change the outcome of Hattin—by arranging the death of Reginald. I don’t know what Paul did when he was there but, whatever it was, it foiled their plan.”