There were two other people in the car besides Jon and Patrick Vedel. Poul Holt was driving, and Remer sat in the front passenger seat. All four wore the same type of robe; only Jon's was black, the others were white. At first Jon had thought it slightly ridiculous to be dressed in this way, but now he agreed they needed to show the proper respect for the ritual, and this opinion was reinforced the moment he saw the historic setting before him. At the same time, the robe had a reassuring effect, and gave him a strong sense of solidarity with the others. He still felt slightly nervous, but otherwise great, and was looking forward to delivering the best performance he could muster. He recognized this feeling from all the occasions when he had delivered his closing remarks in court, but this time there was much more at stake than the fate of his client or his own pride.
Holt stopped the car right in front of the library and the three other men got out. The wind instantly grabbed at their robes and the trio hurried towards the entrance while Holt drove off. The entry area was made of glass; just inside, a red carpet led the way to the interior of the library. Behind glass doors stood two Arab-looking men wearing the same type of white robes and welcoming the arriving guests. When they caught sight of Jon's black robe, they bowed low and chanted several phrases in Arabic. After that they checked everyone's amulets before the party was allowed to pass through yet another set of glass doors.
The hall they entered stretched ten metres upwards and massive pillars of light-coloured sandstone soared like tree trunks, ending at the metal rafters of the roof. Jon sensed the energy that pervaded the entire hall. It was different from Libri di Luca, not nearly as insistent; instead, it was present in a natural way, like a background radiation that permeated everything.
More than two hundred people had gathered in the foyer, all wearing white robes, some with their hoods up, others bareheaded. There was a buzz of voices as lively discussions were carried on in the small groups that had formed. Jon caught words from a number of different languages spoken by the participants, but as Remer and Jon made their way through, the conversations stopped until they had passed. Then a great whispering followed at their heels.
Remer led the way to a group of about ten people, who greeted the three men in Danish as they approached.
Remer introduced Jon to the group, which he explained was the inner circle of the Danish division of the Order.
All the members of the group carried a book identical to Jon's. Each person stepped forward in turn to introduce himself and utter a few appropriate words of welcome. Jon politely returned the greetings, but he didn't recognize any of them. Judging by their expressions and friendly attitude, however, they all seemed to know who he was.
'The ceremony will be conducted in the reading room,' said Remer, turning to Jon.
'It's an amazing place,' said one of the people in the group, and the others chimed in with eager nods and approving remarks.
'But how are you keeping this whole thing secret?' asked Jon, gesturing towards the assembly. 'It's not exactly a discreet gathering.'
Remer laughed. 'You might well say that,' he acknowledged. 'But often the best way to hide something is to put it right out in the open.' He gave Jon a wink. 'Of course we're not exactly advertising what's really going on here. Officially it's a charity event, and we're also making quite a handsome donation to the library operating fund. Not that it's pure altruism. The staff are our people, of course, even those who work here in the daytime.'
In the meantime groups of Lectors continued to arrive, and Jon estimated the number had now reached well over three hundred. More and more people had begun to pull up their hoods, as a signal that they were ready, and many cast glances filled with anticipation in his direction. He looked up at the ceiling, ten metres above, and suddenly had a feeling that he was the one holding it up and not the massive pillars.
Katherina was shaking with nerves. She stood a short distance from the entrance to the library, observing the other participants as they arrived. To her relief, some of them had already pulled up their hoods, so she did the same. That helped.
Henning and Mehmet had separated from her at a safe distance from the library. They had neither robes nor amulets and would have to try to find another way in. At any rate, the main entrance was closed to them. That became clear to Katherina the moment she saw the two guards at the door. They wore robes just like everyone else but she could clearly see the muscles underneath, and the bulges at their hips indicated they were also armed – with real guns, not toys like the one Mehmet had used to scare Pau.
They had left Pau gagged and bound in the bathroom of his hotel room. Aside from the fact that Katherina considered it an appropriate fate, they had decided it was too risky to try to remove him from the place. And there was little likelihood he would be found before Katherina was safely inside the library. He had put up a fierce struggle when it finally dawned on him he wasn't going to be freed in time for the reactivation. Desperation had shone in his eyes and he tried to break loose in frantic fits of rage. It made Katherina realize that the evening's event was much more than some cosy gathering for bibliophiles. A great deal was at stake, maybe even people's lives. Including Jon's.
Katherina took a deep breath and pushed open one of the glass doors. She was met by a smiling guard who welcomed her in English. He looked at her expectantly. Her heart started pounding even harder. Had he already seen through her? Was she supposed to mention some sort of password? Had he noticed her robe was slightly too long?
The guard patted his chest and then pointed towards her throat.
The amulet.
Katherina glanced down and saw that the amulet had slipped inside her robe. Relieved, she pulled it out and murmured an apology. The guard merely gave her an even bigger smile and then gestured towards the next set of doors.
She quickly moved on, pushing open the glass doors to the foyer. The last time she had been here, tourists wearing gaudy clothes and carrying cameras had filled the space with colours, noise and flashes of light. Now several hundred identically clad people stood around chatting to each other as if they were at some perfectly ordinary social function. How was she going to find Jon in this crowd?
Two rows of square-shaped candles in wrought-iron holders lined the corridor leading to the reading room. Katherina started moving in that direction, positioning herself close enough to a group of participants that it looked as if she was one of them, but far enough away so as not to attract their attention. From the words she caught, she thought they were French.
More than half of the participants had now pulled up their hoods, but looking at those who had not, she could see there were people from many different ethnic groups. When she noticed the black book some were carrying she had a moment of panic, thinking the book was yet another item required for admission. But she quickly calmed down when she noticed that most of the people didn't actually have a book. Besides, receivers were not supposed to use books at an activation.
A short distance away Katherina noticed a large group that was getting a good deal of attention from everyone else, and after observing them for a moment she understood why. The robe of one of the group members was black instead of white. The person was surrounded by the others, and she couldn't see much more than a shoulder, an arm and a back when the individual moved to one side. Her hood didn't make it any easier for her to get a good view, so she discreetly moved a little closer.
It had to be the leader. Maybe even Remer.
Katherina held her breath and took another step closer. She knew it was risky because she ended up standing conspicuously separate from the groups around her.