Charles Brokaw - The Lucifer Code

‘No.’

Lourds sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. ‘Well, I have.’ Far more times than I want to remember. ‘Just imagine that you have, and you can’t figure out why you wrote the note in the first place. Now, instead of a few days, let a hundred years go by. Or even one thousand, just to make things interesting. Do you think that someone a few generations, or several generations, removed from the original writer will understand the context of that message even if they’re able to read it?’

Qayin paused visibly before offering, ‘I will tell you this much, Professor: you are on the right track. I am told that this missive does indeed tie to one of the Apostles.’

Excitement inside Lourds grew. He put his water bottle down and held the book in both hands. Desperately, he scanned the lines of writing. More than anything, he wanted to unlock the secrets that lay within the words.

‘Now, tell me something about that writing that will save your life.’ Qayin’s tone held deadly menace.

‘It’s a warning or a command.’

‘I grow weary of these oblique answers.’

Lourds pointed to one of the words. ‘I believe this is the word diamarturomai. That’s Koine Greek. It means “to solemnly charge”. In the New Testament, the Second Book of Timothy, Paul instructs Timothy about the danger of false teaching. Timothy was supposed to focus on the truth of God, and to teach that Satan is a liar and the father of lies.’

‘Church lessons?’ the woman asked.

‘Religion has always played a major part in the development of language,’ Lourds replied. ‘While merchants focused on sums and subtractions, on material things, language had to be developed to express ideals and manifest desired behaviours. In fact, Second Timothy also warns against churches wrangling over words interpreted from the Bible.’

‘Then this is about God’s Truth?’ Qayin asked.

Glancing up, Lourds saw that he had the man’s full attention. ‘I didn’t say that.’

‘Then what are you saying?’

In an effort to blunt the naked threat in the other man’s eyes, Lourds said, ‘Of course, since you believe this document came from an apostle, there is the possibility that this message is about a “truth”.’ He paused. ‘Or this could be a seal.’

‘What kind of seal?’ The woman took a step closer to look at the page, sliding through Qayin’s followers.

‘Seals were used on letters. Usually a drop of hot wax marked with a seal ring or a stamp that was unique. But there were other seals. Sometimes architects placed them on the buildings they designed and built. The practice is still continued today, although changed somewhat.’

‘Cornerstones,’ Qayin said.

Almost forgetting for a moment that the man held his life in his hands, Lourds nodded eagerly. ‘Exactly. Cornerstones are laid and the rest of the building follows.’

‘You believe this is from a cornerstone?’

Lourds hesitated. ‘Yes, if I have to guess – and obviously I do given the time frame – I would say that this rubbing came from a cornerstone.’

Qayin smiled, and Lourds decided he didn’t like the effect. There was nothing chummy about the expression.

‘You suddenly seem to know quite a lot about that inscription,’ Qayin said.

‘On the contrary,’ Lourds disagreed, ‘I know next to nothing. This is just guesswork on my part. Under the gun, so to speak. It also stands to reason that the original object bearing this inscription is far too heavy to transport or cannot be moved.’ He paused. ‘Or it’s been lost.’

‘Does the message give any indication of location?’

‘I don’t know. If this is a warning or command, it’s most likely it would’ve been placed deliberately. There would have been no need to mention the location.’

Qayin scowled. ‘Then this paper is useless.’

Lourds nearly choked on his sip of water when he realized what he had done. ‘I wouldn’t say it’s useless. There’s still a lot that can be learned from it.’

‘What?’

‘With this, I can learn to decipher the language. If there’s more writing like this, I’ll be able to read it. Given time.’

Silence hung heavy in the catacombs and became as oppressive as the darkness.

‘There’s more writing somewhere,’ Lourds stated. ‘I’d bet my life on it.’

‘Maybe you are betting that life,’ Qayin said. ‘But you’re right, there is more writing. We’re in the process of searching for it now. I think you’re going to get to live a little longer, Professor.’

Lourds didn’t feel happy about his small victory. Living in servitude was no choice he would make. Still, death was a lot more final.

‘Get up.’ Qayin stood and waved to his followers. ‘We need to leave this place.’

Aches filled Lourds’ knees and back as he forced himself up to his feet. He swung his backpack over his shoulder and picked up the book.

One of Qayin’s followers slipped up behind Cleena. Lourds caught the movement from the corner of his eye. Lantern light gleamed against the thick, shiny blade in the man’s hand. Lourds began to shout a warning, but he knew he would already be too late.

She must have sensed something, though. She moved as quickly as a striking snake and brought up her pistol firing point-blank at the man’s head. As he fell, while everyone else stood stunned, she darted behind Lourds and grabbed him by the shirt collar. Her warm body pressed up against his.

The corpse sprawled to the stone floor in a loose spill of limbs.

The woman was barely tall enough to peer over Lourds’ shoulder, but she managed. She also opened fire immediately. Her bullets smashed into flesh, but Qayin and his followers had shaken off their paralysis. They dropped their lanterns and ran for the darkness. Four of them didn’t make it. Her aim was deadly, and in seconds she had halved the number of opponents they faced.

Certain he was about to get shot, Lourds tried to dive to the ground. Cleena held onto him tightly and her forearm was like an iron bar across his Adam’s apple. He choked and gagged, and remained on his feet.

‘You just be a good boyo,’ she said. ‘They aren’t going to want to shoot you. Not since you can read their precious little book and maybe whatever else they’ve got tucked away somewhere.’

‘You could be wrong about that, you know.’ Lourds blinked against the darkness and waited for bullets to rip into his body.

‘No, you have your field of specialty, Professor, and I have mine. They paid a pretty penny – well, half a penny anyway – to get you here. Now they think you can do what they hoped you could do, they’re going to want to keep you alive.’

Qayin spoke a harsh command. In response, a brief spate of gunfire rattled through the room. Cleena fired back immediately and evidently hit one of her targets based on where she had seen the muzzle flashes because a man toppled into the pool of light created by the abandoned lanterns.

Lourds tried to move again, but the young woman held him firm.

‘They didn’t hit you, Professor,’ she whispered into his ear. ‘See? You’re worth something to them. They missed you on purpose. And they’ve stopped firing.’

Despite the fear that gripped him, Lourds knew she was correct. Standing highlighted by the lanterns, he knew he was an easy target.

‘I guess there’s no honour among thieves, is there, Qayin?’ she asked. ‘You needn’t bother answering.’

‘You’re not getting out of here alive, Miss MacKenna,’ Qayin responded.

The woman fired in the direction his voice without hesitation. Ricochets bounced wildly around the stone walls. One of them came uncomfortably close to Lourds’ head.

‘If you’re not careful,’ he snapped, ‘you’re going to kill us both.’