Dark Matter (29 page)

'How long have you been here?'  Leroy asked Saeb and Benjamin.

'A week.  I think.'  Benjamin answered for them both, Saeb guzzling some much-needed water.

'You know,' Leroy continued, 'that we are most likely going to die here.'

'We have thought about that.'  Said Saeb, joining the conversation.  'Whether it is through hunger, disease, maltreatment or worse, I would say that none of us will leave this place alive.'

'Have you managed to contact anyone on the outside?'

'No,' replied Saeb sighing deeply, 'none.  We have tried to negotiate getting a message out with a couple of the mineworkers, but neither of them wanted to know.  It seems that they are very well paid, their pay is linked to the gold price, and that has gone up hugely, apparently.  That's what this place is by the way, a gold mine.  I don't know what the Sunarr want it for but it seems that they won't let anything get in their way.  Tell me, is it day or night?'

'It's day time.'  Leroy replied, taken aback.  He looked around.  There was no sun in the sky, no clouds; he had forgotten that he was in a dome.  The light had not changed since he arrived. 

'I know it seems funny.'  Saeb continued, 'but they run a three shift system and it always appears to be daytime.  We assume that each shift is eight hours and we have done seven shifts so we have probably been here for seven days.  But it's hard to be sure.'

'We've got to get out of here.'  Leroy said, pleading with them more than anything.

'Great,' Benjamin replied, 'you call a taxi and I'll pack a lunch.'

The gallows humour sunk Leroy’s spirits further.

'Seriously,' Benjamin continued, 'just look around you.  We are in a dome, made of some alien material, with no doors or windows and there are dozens of armed aliens here.  We can't communicate directly with them, so we have no idea what they say.  Moreover, if we did get out, where would we go?  We would be escaped prisoners, on the run with nowhere to go.'

'So we just sit here and rot.'

'No, we wait, observe, and plan.  We also organise.  If we are ever to break out of here, we will need the help of other prisoners, a lot of them.  We will also need outside support and that means getting a message out.  We need to get the cooperation of at least one of the mine workers.'

'Who are you guys?'  Leroy asked, for the first time seeing their steely resolve and precise planning.

'We are,' Saeb began, searching for the right words and looking for Benjamin's unspoken agreement, 'We are friends who share a common aim.  We are men of conscience.  We are men of war.'

Break over they returned to their respective work assignments.  Benjamin's mind reflected on the conversation, mainly on Saeb's final statement.  He thought about the secret journal he was keeping.  He and Saeb both had pads smuggled in when they were in the prison; Benjamin had simply had two brought in for himself.  One was his copy of their peace negotiations.  The other was a personal diary; how he had come to be here, how his relationship with Saeb had developed and continued to develop. 
If other Jews could see the humanity in this Palestinian, then they maybe they could see it in all Palestinians
.  He was embarrassed about the early entries, but rather than erase them he kept them and corrected them as his attitude changed.  It was important, he felt, that if anyone ever read it they should understand not only his background and that of Saeb's but of the journey, the two of them have been on together.

When I first met Saeb Tibi, he was exactly what I expected.  An arrogant, self-important Arab who, undoubtedly responsible for the deaths of many innocent Israelis, showed no remorse.  Had I not been chosen to represent Israel in the secret negotiations, ordered really, I would not have sat in the same room as he, let alone converse with him.  He gave no significant ground at any of our meetings.  He saw no viewpoint other than his own.  He showed nothing but contempt for me. 

The raid by the Mexican police and the death of the Americans changed all that though.  He had only myself, and I only him.  We started to talk a lot, some negotiation, some conversation.  We talked openly for the first time about our pasts.  Neither of us, I think, bragged about those we killed; the body count put mine higher than his by a considerable margin, something that still troubles me now.  We also talked a lot about those we had lost to the conflict, friends, relatives, and colleagues.  I had always felt that the fight was right but the cost was too high.  I had no idea that a Palestinian felt the same. 

When it came to the negotiations, we hit an impasse.  It seemed that thousands of years of religious history conspired against us.  Out of sheer desperation, we hit upon the idea of drawing our ideal map, agreeing to ignore the stance of the other and only expressing our genuine but realistic wish for ourselves.  The results were predictable.  Each map showed the areas expected that each claimed.  It seemed that it had gotten us nowhere.  Then we hit upon the idea of merging the two maps.  However, instead of the two state solution we expected to see, we saw three distinct states contained within one country.  The State of Israel and The State of Palestine would both be self-determining the third state would be the State of Jerusalem; this would be a tripartite self-governing state that would also govern the country as an external entity. 

This new State of Jerusalem will also serve as both the Capital of the whole country and as the capitals of both of the other states.  Key to the success of both the tripartite states and the new country in which they would reside would be the choice of the third member of the tripartite, the one who would provide the security force.  We both struggled with the choice.  Either every nation we talked about couldn’t provide the right security or there was “bad blood” between that nation and one or both of us.

Then we discussed the Japanese.  The Japanese seemed like a crazy choice to us both but the more we discussed it the less crazy it seemed.  No major nation on earth has as low a population of Jews and Muslims as Japan.  Its national religion is Shinto.  It has no history in our region.  Neither of us favoured them nor feared them.  They could provide an impartial peacekeeping force and hold the deciding vote in the State of Jerusalem and thereby the deciding vote in the Country.  The country would have three official names, one Arabic, one Jewish and the other one Japanese.  All other countries would refer to our new country by its Japanese name.

Neither of us could find any real fault with the plan.  Neither of us liked it of course.  Nevertheless, it seemed like the only real alternative to a future full of ever more violence.  Neither of us wanted that. 

However our plan also calls for three official languages; Arabic, Hebrew and Japanese.  All negotiations would be conducted in Japanese and translated into Arabic and Hebrew.  This will entail both negotiating teams to learn Japanese.  The plan would be for this to be done together, joint classes.  This we agreed would lay the foundations for a proper exchange of views and cooperation as both sides sat together, learned together, and talked together.  The Japanese would announce when they are happy with the level of language skill and then the negotiations could commence.  Conducting the negotiations in a foreign language to the participants also provides one further advantage; anything offence felt by either side could be immediately forgiven as a problem of language not of intent.

We both feel that this plan, which we are calling the One Country, One Citizen plan, could succeed where others have failed.  The one question neither of us can answer yet is how do we get the Japanese to agree?

11:10
              12 December  [11:10  12 December GMT]

Research Laboratory, Cambridge University, Cambridge, England.

'Hi Jane,' John Deeth said rising to greet her, 'it's so good to see you again.'  He kissed her gently on both cheeks, 'you look fabulous, absolutely stunning.'  John was in full flirt mode.

Jane took the compliment and the opportunity to introduce George.

'John I'd like you to meet my journalistic partner, George.'

'I'm just a photographer really.'  George said, offering his hand to John, slightly embarrassed.

'So still single?'  John inquired; Jane could see the glint in his eye.  She decided to play to his vanity.

'Yes.  You know I like them intellectual and slightly mad.' 

'Really.'  John said, grinning broadly, 'I wonder if I know someone that fits the bill?  Tea, Coffee?  Then you can tell me why you've come to see me.'

John rustled up three coffees from his trusty old kettle and offered the least chipped mug to Jane.  It struck him as somewhat odd that they had rebuilt his lab at the cost of who knew how much, but skimped on buying him a new kettle or some better mugs.  He guessed that it was down to the University bureaucracy and not the Research Angel, the University only approving the cost of rebuilding the lab and replacing the scientific equipment. 
I bet the Vice-Chancellor has a new desk out of it though
, he thought sourly.  Mugs in hand, they ventured outside for a smoke.  John insisting one of his Marlboros on Jane, who took it politely.

'So what's up?'  John asked brightly.

'The price of Gold.'  Jane replied.  'We don't know why other than the aliens are digging for it.  No one seems to know why.  I hoped that you might.'  Jane observed John closely and could see the discomfort he suddenly felt.

He instantly wanted to tell her what he knew, what he had discovered and its possible implications and applications.  He wanted to tell her everything.  He knew that he could not; the research was his, the university's and the Research Angel's.  Nothing short of a court order could change that.  He sighed, looked down at the floor, and shuffled his feet.

'I'm sorry, I'm afraid I can't be much help on that.  Gold's valuable, you know, I guess the aliens must know that too.  Sorry.'  John smiled meekly and shrugged his shoulders. 

Jane took the cue
, I'm afraid I can't be much help on that;
she repeated his words to herself
.  That means he can be some help, it also means he could be more helpful but is prevented from doing so.

'That's OK.  I just had to ask.  I am a reporter after all so I have to have something for the record.'

John caught her intonation
, that was on the record, now we are off the record.

'How have you been?  What have you been up to?’  Jane asked the apparently innocent questions.

'Well,' John started, 'to tell you the truth I discovered something odd the other day.  I have had this table in my lounge for years, it has a cloth over it, and I'm ashamed that I had never cleaned it.  I had just used the table without giving any thought to what type of table it was.  I decided to clean the cloth, as you can imagine it was quite filthy.  When I removed the cloth, I was astonished to discover that it wasn't a table at all, it was a piano.  Imagine, for years I had just thought it was a pretty table with a cloth over it, I never suspected that beneath the cloth it contained a sophisticated, musical instrument capable of producing an almost infinite range of sounds and arrangements.  What looked just pretty has turned out to be incredibly useful.  I am just learning to play so I can find out just how useful it could be.  I can imagine that the first piano changed the world forever.'

'Does anyone else know of the discovery of the piano?'  Jane asked, keenly aware that John was bending over backwards to help her. 
Bless you John,
she thought.

'Yes, but no one with an appreciation for music or its complex mathematical formula.'

'I see.'  Jane replied, 'You know it’s been great to catch up.  I'd love to hear if you discover anything else unusual in your house and I'd like to see your piano sometime.'

'There's nothing to see really, it’s just like any other grand piano, it’s the same colour as most other pianos and looks pretty similar.  But you should hear the music it makes,
if
you know how to play it.'

John politely kissed Jane goodbye, again on both cheeks and shook George's hand vigorously.  George wandered after Jane, half a step and a whole conversation behind. 

'What was all that babble about his piano?'

'John wanted to tell me about his research, but in a way that he could deny he had told me anything.'  Jane replied, 'I'd almost bet a year's pay that he goes out and buys a piano, second-hand for cash, just to cover himself.  He'll probably have to learn to play a bit too.'  Jane giggled to herself at that, she judged that John would not find it easy and would get very frustrated.

'So John doesn't have a piano then?'  George was quite in the dark, he didn't know that in the clinic Jane and John had almost spontaneously invented a coded way of communicating so they could talk about the other patients and staff in front of them.

'No he doesn't.  He was telling me about his research.  He has found that there is a lot more to Gold than meets the eye.  I know that he was in the clinic after his experiment exploded; that means some kind of force is probably involved.  His reference to music would imply that it is wave-like in form, but has physical properties.  I don't pretend that it all makes perfect sense to me, it doesn't.  However, I would trust what he has said.  It looks like Gold is the source of some kind of power, and that is why the aliens are after it, and we knew nothing about.'