Shah blinked at her. “It seems pretty clear to me. They’re trying to set the stage for a new religious crusade. Islam versus the rest of the world. Everyone loves a good war, and Muslims are such an easy target. Ratchet up the fear factor and give people an enemy, and they’ll trip over each other in the rush to give up their civil liberties. Meanwhile, the military industrial complex cashes in, the Israelis get more political capital to support their apartheid regime in Palestine, and the one percent takes another slice off the pathetic crumbs the rest of us are squabbling over.”
Jade cleared her throat to end the rant. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but if that’s all this is about, then they’re going to way too much trouble. I think there’s something else going on here. It all comes back to Roche.”
“Two birds with one stone. His conspiracy theories got too close to the truth.”
“Right, but what truth? He been talking about his Changeling conspiracy for years. Why did they wait until…” She trailed off, searching her memories for the answer to her own question. “His new book.”
Shah stiffened a little. “The one where he claims that the Prophet never existed?”
Jade put her hands on her hips. “Really? You can’t see past that? He barely even mentioned that. Besides, the Phantom Time hypothesis wasn’t even Roche’s idea. No, it’s something to do with the vault.”
“At the Hypogeum.”
She looked back at him. “I forgot you were there. Did you…see anything strange?”
“Like what?”
“I guess not. The Hypogeum isn’t the vault. The Vault is…” She stopped herself. No sense in showing all her cards. “It’s somewhere else. The Hypogeum showed me where, sort of like a primitive magical Google Maps.”
Shah accepted this without question. “You think these…Changelings want to get to the vault first?”
Jade felt a little like she had finished the border on a 1,500 piece jigsaw puzzle. Good so far, but there was still a great big hole in the middle. “If the Changelings wanted the vault for themselves, it would have been smarter to let me find it for them.” She shook her head. “I think they already know where it is. They just don’t want us finding it. They knew I would keep looking, so they arranged for you to come after me.”
“After Scotland…” Shah started. “That wasn’t me. I mean, I put you on the Enemies list, but those men were acting on their own. After that, Gab…my partner kept insisting that we take you alive, so we could get you to reveal how much you knew.”
“Maybe she was also trying to protect Kellogg. I think he’s one too, too. He’s been keeping tabs on me since London. Probably waiting to see how far I would take this. Maybe the left hand didn’t know what the right was doing. Once your partner figured out that Kellogg was tagging along with me, she had to do something to keep your people from killing him.”
“My people?”
“You know what I mean. She couldn’t just come out and tell you though. And she couldn’t very well just call it all off. Not when she had worked so hard to make you the fall guy.” Shah’s expression darkened and Jade sensed that she might be losing him. “Hey, the good news is, you didn’t actually hurt anyone. Other than a little property damage, you haven’t done anything wrong.”
Shah blinked at her. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“It should.” She allowed that to sink in for a moment. “So, will you help me?”
“What exactly is it that you want me to do?”
“Help me get Professor back. And help me stop them.”
Shah frowned. “Stop them? If even half the stuff you’ve just told me is true, then these Changelings are everywhere. They’ve already won.”
Jade shook her head defiantly. “If that were true, they wouldn’t be trying to stop me from finding the vault. We can beat them.”
“If we find the vault?”
“I already know where it is.” She did not add that, that there was a very good chance that it would be impossible to get into the vault, at least for a few more decades. Or centuries. “That’s the easy part. Getting Professor back is the real challenge.”
“About that,” Shah began. “What do you…”
“I have a lead on where they might he keeping him. I managed to get a look at the location history on his phone. He spent the better part of two days in a place called Rosebery.”
“Doesn’t ring any bells. Where is it?”
“Australia. I think so anyway. My guess is that they captured him in Sydney and took him there. The impostor took his stuff after watching him for a while. I’m sure he’s still there. It would be too risky to move him.” She said the last part quickly, hoping Shah would take her word for it. “We go there. We find him. We rescue him.”
“Simple as that,” Shah retorted, sarcastically.
“You managed to track me down. You’ve got international resources. And an army at your disposal.”
Shah did not challenge this. “Why should I help you?”
“Well, for starters, it would be your way of saying: ‘I’m sorry I tried to kill you.’ Then there’s a little thing called payback. I thought you might be interested in that.”
“I’ll help you. I think this is a long shot, but I will do what I can. However, if we somehow get through this alive, I want you to take me with you to this Vault.”
“Done.”
“I’m not finished. If we find anything in that Vault that might be…let’s say confusing regarding the life of the Prophet or the origins of Islam, I want you to promise me that we’ll destroy it.”
Jade stared at him, incredulous. “Whatever happened to journalistic integrity?”
“You don’t yell fire in a crowded room, even if the curtains are smoking. There are a billion and a half Muslims in the world. It’s a very crowded room.”
Jade blew out her breath. Agreeing to Shah’s request was easy enough under the current circumstances. Her interest in the vault had nothing to do with proving or disproving the origins of the Islamic belief system.
But what if the proof is there? Do I just ignore it? Go along with the lie?
If it meant saving Professor, absolutely.
“Deal.”
TWENTY-ONE
The noise roused Professor from his drug-induced slumber. He opened his eyes but resisted the urge to rise and investigate. His brain was still mired in the soporific chemical, and he had no doubt that his body would be even more sluggish. He lay still for several minutes, listening to increasingly strident noise which his addled brain finally recognized as the howl of jet engines some distance away.
They’re moving the plane, he thought.
His last clear memory was of the masked guards closing in on him. He had raised his hands to indicate that he would offer no resistance, but they had knocked him out anyway. Judging by his physical condition, that had been only a short time ago, perhaps just a few hours, but evidently something had happened in that brief period of time to prompt his captors to alter the status quo.
He lay motionless, breathing deeply to oxygenate his blood and hopefully purge some of the drug from his system, while he mulled over the significance of this development.
Why are they moving the plane? Has this location been compromised? Or is this some new phase of the plan?
Carrera — or the woman impersonating her — had not confirmed his speculations about the camp or the motive for capturing the plane, but her response made him think he hit pretty close to the mark.
He had been captured by Changelings. Not aliens or supernatural creatures out of mythology, but ordinary humans with an extraordinary talent for impersonating real people. They were method actors, immersing themselves in their roles, not merely imitating their targets, but becoming them to such an extent that even close friends and family members would not notice the substitution.