‘How about a plane ticket out of here?’ Nina asked as she stood. She saw Cross’s unamused expression. ‘Jeez, you fundies have no sense of humour. I told you I’d find your angels.’
‘Just remember that your husband is counting on you,’ he said as Norvin escorted her to the door.
Nina regarded the monitors behind Cross with a look as dark as the empty screens. ‘I hadn’t forgotten.’
The laptop’s browser had several tabs open, Nina flicking between them as she scribbled down more notes. The blocks Cross had put in place were frustrating, as some of the primary sources of information she would normally have used were linked to the IHA or other United Nations agencies and were therefore verboten.
The active tab was not displaying the website of any official organisation, however. It had taken some time to discover it: an obscure blog detailing the journeys of a Jewish traveller with an interest in her people’s history. One such trip had taken her to Rome, where she had been lucky enough to visit a site not generally accessible to the public…
‘That could be it,’ Nina whispered, scrolling through the traveller’s pictures. They didn’t contain the proof she was after, only an implication, a suggestion, but so far it was the best she had.
She clicked another tab. A map appeared, a twisting network of tunnels. The scale revealed that they were confined within a relatively small area, only a few hundred metres along each edge, but the numerous tiers of underground passages meant that there were several miles of them. It would take some time to explore them all.
Which was exactly what she had hoped.
She collated her notes, and was about to stand when there came a timid knock at the door. ‘Saw me finish, did you?’ she asked the nearest camera as she crossed the room.
Miriam was outside. ‘Dr Wilde?’
‘I’m guessing you’ve been sent to come and get me?’
She nodded. ‘The Prophet wants to see you.’
‘I thought he might. Okay, let’s go.’
They headed through the Mission, receiving greetings from residents along the way. The sun was high overhead; Nina could feel the heat prickling her scalp. Miriam noticed her discomfort. ‘Are you okay?’
‘It’s too hot.’
The young woman’s concern was genuine. ‘Oh! I’m sorry. You’ve got such pale skin, I should have thought… I could find you a hat?’
Nina felt ironic amusement that a prisoner was being treated like a VIP guest. ‘That’s okay, I’ll survive.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Miriam repeated.
‘For what?’
‘For not being able to get you everything you want.’
Nina couldn’t help but warm to the young ingénue. ‘What I want is to get out of here.’
‘I know.’ Miriam gave her another look of sincere apology. ‘I’d help you if I could, but the Prophet needs you.’
‘Do you do everything the Prophet tells you?’
‘Of course. We’re his followers, he’s going to lead us to—’
‘To God’s new kingdom, heaven on earth; yeah, I know.’ Nina regarded her with sudden concern. ‘He doesn’t… take advantage of you, does he?’
Miriam flapped her hands in dismay. ‘No, no! He doesn’t do anything like that! Nor do any of the men here. It’s written in the Book of Revelation. Chapter fourteen, verse four: “These are they who were not defiled with women.”’
‘No wonder they’re all so uptight,’ muttered Nina. ‘And “defiled”? John had some serious issues.’ She surveyed the village — and its inhabitants. ‘There aren’t any kids here, are there?’
‘No.’
‘So this new Jerusalem Cross says he’s leading you to — what happens when you get there? “Be fruitful and multiply” was one of God’s commands all the way back in Genesis, but if nobody’s having children…’
‘I don’t know,’ Miriam admitted. ‘But the Prophet does. He’s following God’s plan, and when the time’s right, we’ll all be told what it is. It says so in Revelation.’
Nina couldn’t recall reading anything that suggested that, but memorising every verse hadn’t been her priority. Dismissing it as another of Cross’s crackpot beliefs, she followed the younger woman up to the church. Cross was again waiting at the door, Norvin at his side. ‘Dr Wilde, welcome back,’ the cult leader said.
‘Thrilled to be here,’ she answered through a thin, sarcastic smile. ‘I think I’ve found what you wanted.’
‘I know. God is always watching here at the Mission.’
‘My idea of God never had him as a peeping Tom.’
‘Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty.’
Nina eyed him. ‘That’s not a Bible quote.’
‘No, but it’s practically the motto of the CIA. The best way to protect your people is to know everything.’
‘About their enemies, or about them?’
‘In this case, about you.’ He regarded her notes. ‘You’ve found the Synagogue of Satan.’ It was not a question.
‘I think I’ve found it,’ she replied. ‘I’ll explain everything to you inside. Assuming you haven’t already read it over my shoulder.’
Cross nodded to Nina’s guide. ‘I’ll call you if I need you again.’
‘Thank you, Prophet,’ Miriam replied. She curtseyed before departing, this time giving Nina a happy smile as she passed.
‘So how did you persuade her to join your little cult?’ Nina asked Cross as they entered the church. ‘Tour the Midwest to spread the word?’
‘I’m not a preacher, Dr Wilde,’ he said. ‘I’m just a seeker of the truth, by trade and by nature. When people seek the truth, others naturally join their quest. You should know that. You don’t work alone either.’
‘No, but I’ve never managed to get my co-workers to pay for my tropical retreat.’
‘My followers donate to the Mission entirely of their own free will. All I ask from them is their belief in what we do, and their labour for our community. Beyond that, they’re here to study Revelation and wait for its prophecies to come true.’ They reached the control room. ‘Which I’m hoping will happen soon.’ He took his seat and gestured for her to sit at the table.
Nina noticed that her chair had been moved closer to him, and pushed it away again as she sat, to his minor but obvious annoyance. ‘Okay,’ she said after laying out her notes. ‘Ancient Rome, according to historical texts, had between seven and sixteen major synagogues at various times. Most of their locations have been lost; they would have been demolished and built over as the city grew. But some left archaeological traces, from their catacombs — their burial chambers.’
‘How many?’ asked Cross.
‘Three major ones. There have been some smaller hypogea — underground chambers — discovered since the nineteenth century, but none of them are anywhere near as expansive as the ones at Monteverde, Vigna Randanini and the Villa Torlonia.’
‘You think it’s one of those? Which one?’
Nina had intended to explain her reasoning in full, but Cross’s impatience was clear — and besides, he probably already knew to which she had devoted the most attention. ‘Villa Torlonia.’
‘Why?’
‘Partly because of its size; it’s the largest network of Jewish and early Christian catacombs in the city. The fact that it is both Jewish and Christian also made it look promising, because it lands right in that crossover period when the Jewish Christians of Rome were still enough of a threat to the orthodox Christian leadership that the apostle Paul went to them in person. Which made me think about that Bible verse you quoted about Paul calling the Jewish leadership together.’