‘I think all of them would agree with that,’ Jones said, smiling.
Ulster missed the joke. ‘Now, let’s shine the spotlight on one place in particular: the city of Jerusalem. It is considered a holy city by three major religions: Judaism, Christianity and Islam. In less than one square mile, the Old City contains key sites from all three religions, including the Western Wall, the Temple Mount, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Dome of the Rock, and al-Aqsa Mosque. Needless to say, this proximity breeds conflict. During its long history, Jerusalem has been captured and recaptured a remarkable forty-four times.’
Familiar with Ulster’s methods, Payne knew how important it was to keep him on task. Otherwise, he would ramble all day. ‘What’s your point?’
‘My point? Ah, yes, my point! Let me ask you a simple question, one with a complex answer. If a terrorist blew up the city of Jerusalem, who would get blamed?’
‘A black guy,’ Jones cracked.
Payne couldn’t help but laugh.
Maria, who was still trying to understand the concept of a shared perspective, managed to stay focused. ‘Everyone would get blamed. The Jews would blame the Christians. The Christians would blame the Muslims. The Muslims would blame the Jews, and so on.’
Ulster nodded. ‘One catastrophic event in a single city, yet multiple perspectives. Why? Because all of these groups have different ideologies. And different ideologies lead to different points of view. And different points of view lead to different interpretations. And different interpretations lead to different historical records. As a historian, that leads to an interesting dilemma: how do you determine what really happened? If you’re truly neutral, the odds are pretty good that it will be a combination of all of these accounts rolled into one. Right?’
‘Right,’ she said. ‘You look for the common ground.’
‘But what do you do if there’s only one perspective? Do you trust it?’
‘I guess that depends.’
‘Of course it does. It depends on a lot of things, most of which are so transparent I won’t even bother discussing them. What about two perspectives?’
‘The same thing. It depends.’
‘On what?’
‘Whether or not the perspectives are too similar to be distinct. For instance, if I interviewed two Christians about the bombing of Jerusalem, there’s a good chance they would agree on certain things that were influenced by their beliefs. The odds are pretty good they wouldn’t blame a fellow Christian for the violence. They would blame a Muslim or a Jew.’
Ulster nodded in agreement. ‘Let’s go one step further. What if you were given two accounts of the bombing, one from a Christian and one from a Muslim, and both of them said the exact same thing? Would that make a difference?’
‘Definitely.’
‘Why?’
‘Because they never agree on anything, yet they agreed on this.’
Ulster smiled. ‘That, my dear, is a shared perspective. As a historian, you live for that moment when all of your sources — even countries at war — are saying the exact same thing. That is when you know you have probably found the truth.’
Maria paused in thought, trying to remember how they had started down this path. ‘And Hamilton found something with the Aztec and the Maya? A shared perspective?’
Ulster nodded. ‘Or so he claimed.’
‘On what topic?’
‘On what really happened when the Spanish arrived in the Americas.’
51
Maria stared at Ulster, waiting for an explanation. ‘What does that mean?’
Ulster grinned with delight. He loved it when people were passionate about history. ‘In the grand scheme of things, what do we really know about the Spanish colonization of the Americas? After all, it happened five hundred years ago, long before any of us were born. And unlike the Jerusalem scenario, we don’t have multiple accounts to sort through, because the Spanish burned every native codex they could get their hands on. That means everything in our modern history books was written from one perspective: the perspective of Spain.’
‘What are you saying? Hamilton found something contradictory?’
‘Not only contradictory, but shared. The last time we spoke, which was a few weeks ago, he hinted that he had found a shared perspective between the Aztec and the Maya that would cast doubt on what really happened in the 1500s. He didn’t talk specifics, so I don’t know what aspect of the colonization he was referring to, but he was genuinely excited about it.’
‘He was excited when I talked to him, too. But he was reluctant to tell me the specifics. He was getting ready to, but he disappeared before he had a chance.’
‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Payne said, ‘but let’s get back to the artefacts. Could they possibly relate to any of this? I certainly hope so. Otherwise, we just wasted an hour of daylight on a history lesson that could have waited.’
Having worked with Payne before, Ulster wasn’t the least bit offended by his bluntness. He knew the clock was ticking and Hamilton’s life was possibly at stake. ‘Yes, of course, let’s talk about the artefacts. Obviously, I haven’t examined them in depth, but based on first impressions, I would say the only possible connection between the Aztec and the Mayan relics is one I’m not familiar with. In other words, we’ll need Hamilton or a member of his team to tell us how they are related.’
‘Speaking of his team, did you have any luck running down their names?’
Ulster shook his head. ‘I made a number of calls yesterday evening to colleagues who know Hamilton a lot better than I, and all of them said the same thing. He was working on a passion project that he refused to talk about. As for possible names, no one was forthcoming. Either they didn’t know, or they weren’t willing to tell me.’
‘If you had to guess, which one was it?’
Ulster puffed out his chest. ‘I’d say they didn’t know who he was working with. As you know, I am pretty good at sniffing out the truth.’
‘Really?’ Jones said. ‘Because we lie to you all the time.’
‘You do?’
‘No,’ he said, laughing, ‘but I think I just proved a point.’
Payne rolled his eyes. It wasn’t the time for jokes. ‘Petr, do me a favour. Keep looking through the artefacts. The more we know about Hamilton’s project, the better.’
‘No problem.’
‘And Maria, if it’s OK with you, please give him a hand.’
‘Of course,’ she said.
‘What about me?’ Jones asked.
‘Inspect Hamilton’s weapons and make sure they’re in working order. If push comes to shove, I want to know what we can count on.’
He smiled at the possibilities. ‘Gladly.’
Nearly twenty hours had passed since he had spoken to Randy Raskin. In the real world, that wasn’t a lot of time. During a mission, it was an eternity. Although he knew his friend was constantly busy, it was unlike Raskin to take so long on such a simple request. Payne decided to call him at the Pentagon to find out why.
Raskin answered his office line. ‘Research.’
‘Hey, Randy, it’s Jon. Do you have a minute?’
Raskin paused momentarily. Then he cleared his throat as if making a point. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Payne, I can’t assist you today. Perhaps I can transfer your call to another extension.’
Payne froze. Something was wrong. In all their time working together, Raskin had never referred to him as ‘Mr Payne’ or acted in such a professional manner. Normally, Raskin greeted him with an insult or threatened to hang up on him. He certainly never asked to transfer his call. To Payne, it meant one of two things: either a superior was standing in Raskin’s office, or Payne’s request had infringed upon an active mission of the US Government — in which case, a superior was monitoring Raskin’s calls. Either way, Big Brother was definitely listening in. With that in mind, Payne decided to fish for information without getting Raskin in any additional trouble.