The Library of Shadows (35 page)

In addition to clothes, electronics and antiques, great quantities of foodstuffs were also on sale. All sorts of spices were sold right out of the sacks, and fruit was piled up on tables that looked as if they might collapse under the weight. Meat and fish were on display in the sunshine, and when purchased were wrapped up in newspaper and tossed into a plastic bag. The smells from all the different foods became more and more intense. With each step new aromas joined the mix, forming a stew that became more and more exotic.

Jon walked on ahead, studying everything. He kept having to say no and make dismissive gestures when the stallholders tried to engage him in a transaction. He had moved a good distance away from the others and was beginning to enjoy this excursion. It had been a good idea to take a break from the training sessions.

Suddenly he froze.

Katherina was standing not more than five metres ahead of him. She was busy looking at antiques and hadn't yet noticed him, but just as Jon was about to move, she raised her head and looked him straight in the eye.

Apparently she was just as surprised as Jon, because her eyes widened and she opened her mouth, but not a sound came out. Then she broke into a big, warm smile and stretched out her arms towards him, as if she expected a hug.

Jon took a step back. The smile vanished from Katherina's face and he could see that she was puzzled. She took a tentative step closer, now with an expression that was both dejected and enquiring. Slowly Jon backed away without taking his eyes off her. He had seen through her. The Order had opened his eyes to her deceit.

'Are you okay?' he heard Remer's voice behind him.

Jon raised his hand and pointed at the woman.

'She's here,' he said. 'Katherina.'

Katherina couldn't understand it.

For three days she'd been searching for Jon in this Egyptian port city, and suddenly there he stood, less than five metres away from her. But instead of running to meet her, as she'd pictured him doing so many times, he'd pointed her out to his kidnappers.

Shocked, she stood there staring at him, unable to move. His eyes were filled with hatred. Hatred directed at her. Only after Jon was jostled aside and their eye contact was broken did she come to her senses and realize that two men were making their way towards her. Their faces looked anything but friendly. She spun round and pushed her way through the crowd, away from them, away from Jon.

People turned to stare at Katherina as she forced her way past, moving as quickly as she could. The number of shoppers seemed to swell, and they seemed less and less willing to move aside for her. She cast a look back and confirmed that the two men were still after her. A tall, red-haired man and a short, bald guy wearing steel-rimmed spectacles. Her heart was pounding in her chest. What was the matter with Jon?

In one of the narrow market streets there were so many people that no one could move either backwards or forwards. She desperately tried to push through, but it was impossible to make any headway. The stall she was standing next to was selling fish, and the owner of the makeshift shop was yelling at the shoppers as he tried to keep his table from being toppled by the throng.

The face of the red-haired man loomed high above all the others, and when he saw Katherina get stuck in one place, an alarming smile spread across his face. Feverishly she looked around for a way out. The fishmonger was now shouting at her, making a series of sweeping gestures to force her to back up.

Taking a last look at her pursuers, Katherina ducked down and crawled under the table displaying the fish. On the other side the fishmonger greeted her by swatting at her with newspapers and shouting oaths in Arabic. She stood up, only to feel the fishmonger grab hold of her and start shaking her vigorously. The table gave an ominous lurch, distracting his attention for a second. Katherina used the opportunity to give him a hard shove so she could pull free. Quickly she ducked under the next table and crawled into the next market street. There she was able to stand up and begin to jog, zigzagging between tourists and shoppers, the distant crash of the fishmonger's table barely heard behind her.

At the edge of the marketplace, Katherina paused to look back. The two men were nowhere in sight.

She wished the others were with her.

But Henning was back at the hotel in bed with stomach trouble, while Mehmet was wandering around town on his own just as she was doing. After they'd filled him in on the Society's secrets, Mehmet had offered to come along. At the moment he couldn't go back to his flat anyway, and he felt he had a score to settle. Katherina had gratefully accepted his offer. She thought that Mehmet was the one person she could count on. So far he had never disappointed her.

It had also turned out that he had no intention of hanging around idly, just as Katherina couldn't make herself sit still at the hotel. She'd come into town to search for Jon at all hours of the day. Only when she needed to get some sleep or if they'd agreed to meet back at the hotel did she return to the Acropole, where they were staying.

A shout further down the street drew her attention. A shorthaired man wearing a light suit was pointing in her direction. It was Remer, and right behind him stood Jon. He wasn't doing anything, just staring at her, as if none of this had anything to do with him. Remer waved one hand towards the marketplace while he continued to point his other hand at her. Katherina followed his gaze and caught sight of the red-haired man in the crowd. At the same instant he saw her.

She took off at a run, turning down the first side street she came to. An old Lada almost ran her over in the narrow lane, and she had to jump aside and press her body up against the wall to avoid the car. Little shops were tucked into niches on either side, mostly electronics shops stacked from floor to ceiling with watches and cameras, phones and computers. A constant flow of motorbikes rushed past at breakneck speed, and Katherina alternated between running along the street and racing along the pavement in order to keep going. At the next corner she stopped and looked back. Just as she thought that she'd manage to escape, she heard a shout.

'She headed to the right,' someone yelled in unmistakable Danish.

Katherina forced herself to keep running as she looked for an exit. This street was slightly wider and considerably longer than the one she'd come from, so they'd be able to see her as soon as they turned the corner.

After ten metres she couldn't manage to run any further, and she dashed inside a shop. It was a bridal boutique. There were almost as many bridal boutiques as electronics stores in Alexandria. One whole wall was covered with bridal gowns, hanging in two rows. Katherina grabbed the first dress she saw.

Aside from her, there was no one in the shop except for the owner, a stout middle-aged woman who got up from her chair behind the counter and came towards Katherina with a smile. Before the woman could even say hello, Katherina had pulled the gown over her head and reached behind to pull up the zipper.

'You want dress?' asked the shop-owner in English with a mixture of friendliness and astonishment.

Katherina turned to face the mirror which was set up at the far end of the store. From there she could keep an eye on the street behind her.

'Too big,' said the woman, laughing. 'Too big.'

The shop-owner began tugging at the zipper, but Katherina stopped her.

'Baby,' she said, pointing to her stomach.

At that moment she caught sight of the bald man from the marketplace. He was staring through the shop window.

'Ahh,' exclaimed the owner, giving Katherina a knowing wink. 'Baby.' She began merrily chattering to herself in Arabic as she continued to nod and smile eagerly.

The man outside paused for a moment. For a split second Katherina met his eyes in the mirror, but he didn't recognize her and moved on up the street.

'But too long,' said the shop-owner and laughed even louder.

Katherina looked down at the dress. It was indeed much too long. She threw out her arms.

'Too long,' she admitted.

The shop-owner helped her out of the dress and began hauling down other gowns for her customer to try on. Katherina kept shaking her head and pointing towards the door.

'Must go,' she said repeatedly. 'Do not feel well.' She pointed at her stomach.

'Ahh,' cried the shop-owner again, this time with disappointment. 'You feel better. You come back.' She patted Katherina's cheek. 'You get good price. Baby price.'

Katherina thanked the woman and slipped out, turning to go in the same direction she had come without looking back. Only after ten metres did she stop at a window to study the display. A number of fake weapons were on view: knives, pistols and larger guns. She glanced back along the street, but the two men were nowhere in sight, so she continued as quickly as she dared without actually running.

After turning several corners and dashing through small, narrow alleyways that she'd come to know from her wanderings, she finally felt sure that she'd given them the slip. She sat down on a doorstep and buried her face in her hands. Tears welled up in her eyes.

She had found Jon and then lost him again. She'd been standing not five metres from him, but then she'd run in the opposite direction. She swore at her own cowardice. If only she'd been able to reach him. It was clear that he had changed, or at least that he didn't remember what they'd shared together. What had those people done to him?

'Have you found anything?' asked a voice.

Katherina raised her head. A man dressed in white robes stood in front of her. He wore a traditional Arabic head-dress that covered much of his face. Only the man's words revealed that he was a European.

'Mehmet,' she cried with relief as she stood up to give him a hug.

Mehmet cautiously placed his arms around her and gently patted her back.

'It looks like you've found something, huh?'

He didn't wait for a reply, nor did he ask her any more questions as he led her back to the hotel through the narrow streets.

'I hope I can figure out how to put it on again,' said Mehmet as he unwound the fabric that formed his head-dress and placed it on the armchair in Katherina's room.

It was a very sparsely furnished room with only a bed, a chair and an armchair with floral upholstery. The shutters were closed, and the room was in semi-darkness.

Katherina was sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs pressed together and her elbows propped on her knees.

Mehmet pounded on the wall to the adjoining room.

'Could you come in here, Henning?' he said loudly. The walls were so thin they could hear what was going on in nearly every room on the floor. As far as they could tell, they were the only Scandinavians in the hotel, so they didn't have to watch what they said.

A moment later Henning turned up, his face pale and with sweat trickling from his scalp.

'What's going on?' he asked as he sat down in the armchair, moving like an old man.

'I saw Jon,' said Katherina.

Mehmet sat down next to her and waited for her to go on.

'At the marketplace,' she explained. 'All of a sudden he was just standing there, giving me a really strange look as if I were a total stranger.' She took in a deep breath. 'Then he sent his bodyguards after me.'

'Bodyguards?' said Henning. 'Are you sure they weren't his prison guards?'

Katherina nodded. 'He pointed me out to them.'

Mehmet looked down at his hands. 'He must have had a good reason for doing that,' he said. 'Maybe he wanted to scare you off, so they wouldn't capture you too.'

'But you should have seen his eyes,' said Katherina. 'The look in his eyes was so different. As if he hated me with all his heart.'

'Maybe he was trying to push you away for your own protection,' Henning suggested.

Katherina shook her head vigorously. 'No, he really meant it,' she told them.

'That can only mean one thing,' said Henning solemnly. 'They've been reading to him.'

The idea of brainwashing had crossed Katherina's mind as she searched for an explanation, but it hadn't occurred to her that it might have been done through reading. Even though she'd participated in a reading, she didn't connect it with brainwashing or torture.

'But is that possible?' she asked. 'We were ... are ... in love. How could that be turned into hatred in such a short time?'

'It would require an extraordinarily talented transmitter,' Henning admitted. 'And an even better excuse.'

'Excuse?' said Mehmet. 'I don't get it.'

'A reading can't totally replace one attitude with another. It can't turn white to black. If you try to do that, you'll fail. On the other hand, if you try to present an alternative explanation, the subject in question, with the proper sort of influence, will
choose
to change his attitude. The subject will be able to recall everything – the attitude he had previously held, and even the reading itself, but he'll think he made the choice on his own.'

'Man, that's sneaky,' exclaimed Mehmet, leaning back on the bed.

'So Jon made the choice to hate me?' asked Katherina.

Henning shifted uneasily in his chair.

'In any case he was presented with a lie that convinced him he
had
to hate you.'

Katherina got up and went over to the window. Through the slats in the blinds she could look down at the street in front of the hotel. There wasn't as much traffic in this part of the city, only an occasional motorbike racing past.

Had she come all this way to Alexandria in vain?

'Is there anything we can do?' she asked without turning round from the window. She noticed that tears had begun to spill down her cheeks.

Henning sighed deeply. 'That's hard to say. If the conflict between the two choices is big enough, at some point he'll suffer a relapse. I'd think the shock alone of seeing you today would make him reconsider what has happened.'

'Unless more lies are presented to him?'

'Correct,' replied Henning. 'The more arguments they give him for keeping his distance from you, the better.'

'For them, you mean.'

Mehmet stood up and went over to her, patting her shoulder. 'If he loves you, he'll come to his senses.'

Katherina nodded, fighting to hold back the sobs.

'At least we know he's here,' said Mehmet. 'And I think I located some of the others today.'

'Where?' asked Katherina.

Until now they'd been unable to find any of the individuals the Shadow Organization had sent to Alexandria. For days they had roamed around, studying the tourists in the city, the whole time trying to determine whether those sightseers were Lectors as they read their guidebooks or scanned the menus in restaurants. They had memorized the faces from the black-and-white school photos Mehmet had found, but most of them were taken some time ago, so they didn't expect to be able to recognize the students by appearance alone.

'There's a big group staying at the Hotel Seaview, closer to the harbour,' Mehmet explained. 'One of them might be our mole.'

'Pau?'

'Or Brian Hansen, as he's really called.'

The papers from the school had revealed Pau's real name as well as his RL value. It was listed as 0.7, a very low number compared to most of the other members, who on average had a value ten times higher. It didn't make them feel any better that someone with such a low ranking had been able to fool them for months.

'Couldn't we use him?' asked Katherina, turning to face Henning.

'As a hostage?' Henning shook his head. 'I don't think so. His job is done. After the neutralizing of Luca and Jon, he's no longer of any importance to them.'

'Maybe he could tell us what's going to happen,' Katherina suggested.

'You want to force him to do that?' said Mehmet with a crooked smile.

'We'd just be playing by their rules,' Katherina pointed out. 'Henning could read to him.'