Iversen nodded. 'That's common knowledge,' he said, though he didn't sound convinced.
'So the collection in the Alexandria library would enhance the activation?' asked Clara.
'There's one problem with that,' said Iversen. 'From what I've heard, the library is still in the acquisition phase. And since the original conception of the project, the development of electronic media has progressed so rapidly that many works are now on CDROM or DVD instead of in printed editions.' He threw out his hands. 'And we know that these types of media can't be charged like real books.'
'Correct,' Tom admitted. 'But we both suspected that a kind of spillover effect could take place in the surrounding area, an accumulation of energy from the charged books, and maybe even from utilizing the powers.'
'That's never been proven,' said Iversen.
'But just imagine what that might mean for the Bibliotheca Alexandrina,' Tom insisted. 'I've been thinking about it ever since the postcard arrived. For more than seven hundred years, at that same location, hundreds of thousands of volumes of the highest quality were stored. We can only assume there were Lectors during antiquity, and with Alexandria being the stronghold of knowledge, there must have been Lectors there – Lectors who could take care of and strengthen the collection.'
No one said a word. Everybody seemed to be digesting the theory Tom had presented.
'I'm positive that an enormous energy source exists there,' he went on. 'And that the new library has been perfectly designed to focus that energy, like a lighthouse.'
'And the Shadow Organization wants to use the energy to activate new Lectors?' asked Katherina.
Nшrreskov nodded.
'But why do they need Jon?' she asked, sounding defeated.
He looked down. 'I can't answer that question.'
'I still think it's some sort of ritual,' said Iversen. 'But under any circumstance, everything indicates that a gathering is going to take place at that site. Whether it's to drink tea or to conduct activations, that's not really important. Jon is going to be there, and we have to be there too.'
Katherina nodded eagerly. Nothing was going to keep her away.
'What we need to do is find out what exactly we're up against, or how many people are involved,' Iversen went on. 'We have to assume there will be more than just Remer and Jon present, and it's safe to bet that some people from the school here in Copenhagen will be participating too.' He turned to Katherina. 'Do you think your computer friend could find out whether any pupils from the Demetrius School are taking a trip to Alexandria?'
'I'm sure he could,' replied Katherina.
Mehmet had given her his phone number on a scrap of paper, telling her that she could ring him night or day. He probably hadn't expected to hear from her just a few hours later, but he seemed very amenable when she did ring.
'The Demetrius School, you say,' she heard on the other end of the line. Katherina could already hear the keys clacking in the background. 'Uh-oh, the place burned down,' he exclaimed a second later.
'We know that,' said Katherina. 'Can you find out whether any of the pupils have travelled to Egypt recently?'
'Hmm, provided their Internet server hasn't gone up in smoke too,' Mehmet replied, humming to himself as the keys clacked. 'Nope, here it is,' he exclaimed. 'Alive and kicking.' He started humming again, interrupting himself with little, dissatisfied exclamations and grunts. 'Hey, listen here, Katherina. It's probably going to take me a while. Can I ring you back?'
Katherina said yes and put down the phone.
'Well?' asked Iversen, anxiously.
'He'll ring later,' she replied, disappointed. She would have preferred to be sitting next to Mehmet, or to keep him on the line so she could sense when something happened. She clapped her hands together. 'What now? How many plane tickets are we going to need?'
Iversen gave her a worried look, but he didn't offer any objections. He knew her well enough to realize that nothing he could do would prevent her from going. 'Not for me,' he said, looking down at the floor. 'I'm too old, and the heat… I'd just be in the way.'
'That's okay, Iversen,' said Katherina. 'We need you here.'
Iversen nodded without raising his eyes from the floor.
'You're going to need a transmitter,' declared Henning, raising his hand as if taking an oath. 'I'll go.'
The others all exchanged glances.
Tom shook his head. 'I'm already too far away from my farm,' he said with a dejected expression. 'I'm sorry.'
'Maybe it's best with a small group,' suggested Clara.
Everyone agreed, some people showing obvious relief. Katherina didn't care. As long as she could go, it wasn't important whether one or a hundred went with her. Once she found Jon, she'd find a way to free him.
After an hour Mehmet still hadn't called back and almost everyone had left the shop. Iversen had stayed and was pottering about with some books but keeping his distance from Katherina, who was spending the waiting time alternately sitting down and pacing back and forth in front of the windows. She sensed that Iversen was still a bit embarrassed that he couldn't go along. He avoided her eyes and moved quietly among the shelves, as if not wanting to disturb her.
After yet another hour had passed, Iversen went home too when Katherina insisted he needed to get some sleep. She rang Mehmet a couple of times, but he didn't answer. Gradually her pacing around the shop got more and more restless. She walked in order to keep her thoughts at bay. But after more than two hours of pacing, she sat down on the floor with her back against a bookcase. Her legs ached, which provided a welcome distraction from her speculations. She wrapped her arms round her legs and rested her forehead against her knees. When she pressed her eyelids closed, spots danced before her eyes like flies in the afternoon sun. She even felt the heat of the sun baking on her back. The sun of Egypt.
The phone rang.
Katherina awoke with a violent start and looked around in fright. She was lying on the floor in a foetal position. It was daylight outside.
With some difficulty she stood up. Her legs were stiff, and she tottered the first few paces over to the counter.
'Libri di Luca,' she said when she finally picked up the phone.
'It's me,' she heard on the other end of the line.
Katherina recognized Mehmet's voice and was instantly wide awake.
'Meet me at the main library in half an hour.'
'What?' Katherina stammered, but by then Mehmet had rung off.
Katherina broke all the traffic rules as she biked over to the main library. She rode on the pavement, headed the wrong way down one-way streets and used the bus lanes without regard for traffic lights or the honking cars. Her leg muscles, which already ached, began to burn so badly that she almost fell off her bike before she finally reached the main library on Krystalgade. She parked her bicycle without bothering to lock it and dashed through the revolving door into the library.
The white vestibule stretched up through the entire building to the roof, where frosted panes let in the sun to light up the big open space below. Katherina paused in the middle of the hall to look around. The library had opened only an hour earlier, so there weren't many people. She was picking up words from far fewer people reading than she had feared, and she was able to concentrate on those who were present.
At the counter on her right stood a lone librarian who was idle at the moment, while others were pushing carts crowded with books, which they methodically put back on the shelves. A solitary woman was sitting in front of a monitor among a cluster of computers on the ground floor.