The Trespass(106)
With a shock he realized the import of his words. His thinking was, as Potzner had observed, undergoing reconstruction. The eerie silence unsettled him and he forced himself to his feet for a closer inspection of the scattered ruins. There were some gaps through which it was just possible to squeeze, but they led him only into a wilderness of tangled masonry. He lingered for a while in the comparative coolness, undoing his shirt to let the dense, hot air circulate around his body. He resisted another mouthful of water and instead felt his way back out into the harsh sunlight. Maybe Fish was way off beam. Maybe this is just what it appears to be: derelict.
As he emerged from the gloom he shielded his eyes from the glare, bending underneath an overturned arch that incongruously called to mind the standing stones of far-off Salisbury Plain. He straightened up and cried out in surprise. A man was watching him from a distance of perhaps ten metres, on a slightly elevated section of the Tell. He was bearded, wearing a long garment of patterned yellows and greens. He stood perfectly still in an attitude of disciplined concentration, as if wanting to be certain of Dracup’s identity before revealing his intentions.
Dracup stole a glance behind him, suddenly fearful that he had been caught in a trap. The man moved slowly down to his level, picking his way elegantly through the fallen masonry with the ease of long familiarity. Dracup stood his ground and waited.
“Professor Dracup. I have been told on good authority that you are a man of ability and determination. Now I see that I was correctly informed.”
There it was again, that accent he had first heard in Sara’s whispered words of love, and from the lips of the doomed Mukannishum in Lalibela. “On what authority?” he called out. His voice sounded puny and flat in the shadow of the great Tell.
The stranger smiled. “On the best authority.”
“I can’t trust someone I don’t know. Who are you?”
“Please do not question me further. Simply follow.”
Dracup hesitated. He remembered Bek’s similar words of encouragement as he was led into the unknown twelfth church. He pushed the memory aside. You have no other contacts, Dracup old son. No choice.
“Come. Please.” The man turned and began to ascend the Tell. Dracup followed cautiously, regretting his decision to leave the machine pistol in the Chinook. By the time they reached the halfway point his shirt was soaked with sweat and he began to grunt with exertion as his guide pressed on with confident tread to the Tell’s summit. Dracup laboured up the final few metres and, on reaching the level plateau, bent double, hands on hips, sucking in the dry air.
“Twelve kilometres to the west is Babylon, the city of Nebuchadnezzar.” The man pointed with his staff. “His palace was considered the greatest building achievement in the world. But, like all dictators, his time passed. Babylon crumbled to dust. Last century’s dictator, Saddam, constructed car parks and concrete palaces on its ruins.” He laughed softly and nodded. “You will know this, Professor Dracup, as a man who has studied the peculiar struggles of mankind through the ages, yes? But Nebuchadnezzar’s grand enterprises of engineering were not confined to Babylon, with its hanging gardens, its fifty-three temples and great tower. Not at all.” He leaned on the staff and looked at Dracup. “The king’s greatest achievement was here, at Kish.”
Dracup was nodding. “Yes. A greater construction than even the great ziggurat of Babylon took place here. It lies beneath our feet.”
The smile was genuine. It lit up the man’s face with haunting familiarity. “You are wondering where it can be. And how it has remained undetected for so many centuries.” He wagged a long forefinger at Dracup.
It was puzzling. And yet, had Dracup not witnessed Fish’s assertions regarding the subterranean structure of this area, he would have been entirely ignorant of what lay beneath the Tell. Another thought occurred to him. “Saddam must have known of your existence.”
The laugh was disdainful, mocking. “Of course. But even he was afraid. And you may be surprised to know that political adeptness is not confined to the secular world.”
Dracup thought of the CIA infiltration, the ease with which the body of Adam had been taken from the Americans. He shook his head. “No. No, I am not surprised. The Korumak Tanri are a people of far-reaching influence.”
“You have learned a great deal.” The brown eyes glinted with admiration. “And for that you have earned my respect.”
Dracup remained unsure whether this conversation was a sinister prelude to violence or an oblique offer of assistance. His fists were clenched at his sides. “Then you will give me your name.” Dracup held out his hand. “And tell me where you have taken my daughter.”