David took the supplies into the kitchen, which was cramped but clean. There were no dirty dishes in the sink. No garbage in the trash bin. Nor was there any food in the pantry or much of any in the refrigerator. It was no wonder the old man was so thin.
After instructing David where to put the groceries, Birjandi padded down the hall, and David followed. They ended up in the old man’s study-actually a retrofitted dining room. It, too, had bookshelves lining the walls, sagging with the weight of books, many of which looked fifty or a hundred years old or more. In one corner was a desk stacked with books on tape, along with a large tape player from the 1980s, a set of giant headphones, and an assortment of unopened mail. In another corner stood a television that was on but whose screen was full of snow and static that hissed so loudly it actually hurt David’s ears. Seemingly not bothered by the noise, Birjandi found a well-worn armchair that was clearly his favorite and plopped down in it. Then, much to David’s relief, the old man found the remote on an end table and turned off the TV.
“Please have a seat.”
“Thank you, sir,” David said, carefully removing a stack of yellowed newspapers from the 1990s from another armchair. “I have many questions, and Mr. Esfahani said you would be the best man to ask.”
There was a long, uncomfortable silence, so long that David wasn’t sure the old man had heard him.
“We are living in extraordinary times, wouldn’t you say?” David finally offered, searching for a way to begin the conversation.
“I see days of great mourning,” Birjandi said with a heavy sigh.
“But at least Imam al-Mahdi has come, right?” David said, his voice upbeat and hopeful. “I’m sure you’ve heard all the reports.”
“I have no joy in my heart,” Birjandi said.
“None?”
“Young man, a very dark day has dawned upon the earth.”
David was taken aback. Wasn’t this man’s life’s work studying and teaching about the coming of the Twelfth Imam? Why wouldn’t he allow himself a bit of joy? Yes, the day had come with death and destruction. But hadn’t all that been prophesied anyway? Didn’t the old man believe all this suffering was Allah’s will?
“He who knows not, and knows not that he knows not, is a fool; shun him,” Birjandi said, seemingly out of the blue. “He who knows not, and knows that he knows not, is a child; teach him. He who knows, and knows not that he knows, is asleep; wake him. He who knows, and knows that he knows, is wise; follow him.”
“Is that from the Qur’an?” David asked.
Birjandi smiled a little and shook his head.
“From the hadiths?”
Again the old man shook his head.
“Something Zoroaster said?”
“No, it is an ancient Persian proverb.”
“Well, it sounds very wise.”
“Which one are you?”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
David pondered that for a moment, silently reciting the proverb several times to understand its meaning.
“I suppose I am the child,” he said finally.
“Why?”
“Because I know not, and I know that I know not. That’s why I am here, because I believe you know.”
“Very good,” Birjandi said. “Then start with this. What Hamadan just experienced was not a natural earthquake.”
“What do you mean?” David asked.
“The size. The scope. The timing. Think, Mr. Tabrizi. What triggered all this? Do you really think it was the arrival of Imam al-Mahdi?”
What was the man talking about? David’s confusion grew still more when Birjandi suddenly rose, excused himself, and said it was time for him to pray.
“We can talk some more in six hours,” Birjandi explained simply, without apology.
Six hours? David looked at his watch. It was only three in the afternoon. What was he going to do for the next six hours?
“Thank you for the groceries,” Birjandi said before he left for his room. “Feel free to have anything you would like. I am not hungry. I don’t have a guest room, but I hope you are comfortable on the couch. There are more blankets in the closet. Take a nap, Mr. Tabrizi. You need the rest. You seem tired. And, I suspect, you could use some prayer time as well.”
Then he turned and walked away. His bedroom door closed softly behind him. David was startled and a little annoyed. He didn’t want to nap. He didn’t want to pray. He had questions. He had come for answers. But he wasn’t getting any. At least not for the next six hours.
74
As the hours passed, there was one bit of good news.
Wireless service had now been restored for sections near the airport, which meant David’s phone worked and he could use it to get on the Internet. He grabbed his laptop and waited for it to boot up.
As he did, he kept thinking about Birjandi’s words. What did he mean that the earthquake wasn’t a natural event? There were only two other possibilities. One was a supernatural event, perhaps connected to the arrival of the Twelfth Imam. But Birjandi had seemed to dismiss that notion, which was odd, given the man’s specialty. The only other possibility was that it was a man-made event. But the only way for man to trigger an earthquake was…
No, David thought, surely that wasn’t possible. Birjandi wasn’t suggesting the earthquake had been triggered by an underground nuclear test, was he?
Once connected to the Internet, David did a quick search. What he found unnerved him.
On May 28, 1998, Pakistan conducted five nuclear weapons tests, triggering an earthquake that measured 5.0 on the Richter scale.
On October 9, 2006, North Korea conducted a nuclear test in the North Hamgyong province, resulting in a 4.3 seismic event.
On May 25, 2009, North Korea conducted another nuclear test, resulting in an earthquake with a magnitude of 4.7.
David was no physicist or geologist. He had no way of knowing for certain. But on its face, it did seem possible that an earthquake could be triggered by a nuclear test or a series of tests. Was that what had just happened? If so, how huge must the nuke have been to trigger an earthquake measuring 8.6 on the Richter scale?
Barred from accessing Langley’s database from inside a hostile country, David continued scouring the open-source articles on previous nuclear tests, looking for similarities and differences. The article that worried him most was an October 2006 piece by David Sanger in the New York Times.
North Korea said Sunday night that it had set off its first nuclear test, becoming the eighth country in history, and arguably the most unstable and most dangerous, to proclaim that it has joined the club of nuclear weapons states.
The test came just two days after the country was warned by the United Nations Security Council that the action could lead to severe consequences.
Since when has a U.N. Security Council warning ever stopped a country from building the Bomb? David wondered.
The White House and State Department were kidding themselves. The president and the secretary of state and all their muckety-mucks could huff and puff all they wanted, but in the end, negotiations and diplomacy and high-level talks and Security Council meetings were all just words, and words weren’t going to blow the Big Bad Wolf’s nuclear house down.
David continued reading.
North Korea’s decision to conduct the test demonstrated what the world has suspected for years: the country has joined India, Pakistan, and Israel as one of the world’s “undeclared” nuclear powers. India and Pakistan conducted tests in 1998; Israel has never acknowledged conducting a test or possessing a weapon. But by actually setting off a weapon, if that is proven, the North has chosen to end years of carefully crafted and diplomatically useful ambiguity about its abilities.