The Religion War (15 page)

"I expect that you will be," answered al-Zee.

"Did you know I was going to be here?" asked Cruz.

"No. Did you know about me?"

"No."

Al-Zee and Cruz both looked at the Avatar.

"Well?" asked Cruz. "What the hell good do you think this is going to do?"

The Avatar moved forward in his chair and opened a drawer on the side of the table. He removed a wooden chess set and placed it between the men.

"Is this your idea of ajoke?" asked al-Zee.

"Tell me, al-Zee, do you believe God is directing you?" asked the Avatar, arranging the chess pieces on the board.

"Yes, I do."

"And you, General Cruz, do you believe God is guiding your decisions?"

"He is."

"Then I offer a solution to avoid war: one game of chess. Let God give wisdom to whomever he favors. Winner takes all. No bloodshed, no war. The loser must convert to the winner's religion and try to convince his followers to do the same."

"This is nonsense. History is not decided by games," said al-Zee.

Cruz stared at the chessboard while the Avatar arranged the pieces.The general played at the Grand Master level. There was a certain appeal to playing one game of chess, as crazy as it sounded. He knew it wouldn't avert war, but the idea of humiliating al-Zee before the start of action seemed like good psychological warfare.

"I'm in," said Cruz.

"Ridiculous," protested al-Zee.

"Are you afraid God will let you lose?" taunted Cruz.

"God does not use chess to express his will."

"You're both men of your word," interjected the Avatar. "If you agree here and now that this game will determine the outcome of the war, then it is so. You have the power to make this game God's instrument for avoiding the deaths of innocents."

The Avatar stood and bowed to each of the leaders. "I will leave you now and be back in one hour."

"You know we aren't going to agree to this, don't you?" asked al-Zee.

"Yes, I do know that," said the Avatar while walking to the door.

"Then why are you doing it?" asked Cruz.

"I think you mean, why is
God
doing this?" said the Avatar while closing the door behind him.

Cruz and al-Zee sat across from each other, wondering what to do. They were the most powerful people in the history of the world, but alone in this hotel room they looked quite ordinary, and they felt that way.

"No deal," said al-Zee."I know your background. I know you are an expert at this game. I see now that the Avatar is working for you."

"I wish he were."

An awkward silence fell on the room. The two had so much to talk about that neither knew where to start.

"One game," said al-Zee. "But it is not binding on the war."

Cruz smiled and took a pawn off the board, hid it behind his back, then produced two closed fists. Al-Zee picked the left hand, the one with the hidden pawn, earning him the white pieces and the opening move.

Five minutes into the game, when Cruz had expected to be finished, he found himself on the defensive. He realized that al-Zee had been bluffing. He was not only proficient at the game but an equal to Cruz, perhaps better. Cruz had been totally suck-ered, and that thought played on his mind, affecting his confidence, exactly as al-Zee knew it would.

"It was a stupid idea," Cruz said, the first conversation since the opening move.

"Ridiculous," agreed al-Zee.

"But I don't know
why
it's stupid," said Cruz. "If we agreed to play chess instead of making war, that would be God's will."

"That would be
our
will, not God's," said al-Zee while moving his rook to attack position.

"That'sjust it. How do you know what is
your
will and what is
God's
will?"

Al-Zee looked up from the game and studied the face of his opponent.

"You can feel it in your heart when it is real," said al-Zee.

"But how can we both be right if we're feeling opposite things?"

"Your heart is corrupted by evil.You have been misled."

"How do you know that
you
aren't the one misled? It seems that way to me."

"Checkmate," said al-Zee, positioning his bishop.

Cruz just stared at the board, fuming inside, trying not to show it. He stood and walked toward the window, as if to say it meant nothing. He wasn't doing a goodjob of it.

"You are so sure of your rightness," said al-Zee to Cruz's back. "Your huge armies, so invincible. Your arrogance will be your undoing. God will make an example of you that will last the ages."

Al-Zee stood. For the first time, Cruz considered that he could lose the war. That thought had never before crossed his mind. It had always been a question of how long it would take, or how many casualties each side would have. But he had never entertained the notion of losing. He had been as sure of his chess superiority an hour ago. His sense of certainty and destiny was being tested. Yes, he thought, it must be a test.

"I know who you are," growled Cruz, turning to face al-Zee. "You are the one he warned us about: the dark one.You test my faith, but you will not succeed. You cannot succeed. God won't allow it."

The Avatar entered the room, halting the conversation, to the relief of both men. The Avatar looked down at the chess game, absorbing what had happened, and smiled.

"You have a result," he said.

"It means nothing," said Cruz. "It's a game."

"It's a sign," said al-Zee."A sign of things to come."

"I have a proposition for both of you," said the Avatar. "A proposition to avoid the war and give both sides everything they need."

Cruz and al-Zee said nothing. Neither wanted to seem eager to avoid the fight. But their silence signaled their willingness to listen.

"My idea is that General Cruz surrender immediately, unconditionally."

Cruz laughed. "Your ideas keep getting better and better," he said.

"What is it that
you
want?" the Avatar asked al-Zee.

"Dignity," replied al-Zee. "I wantjustice. I want vengeance. I want my people to have the pride that has been denied them by centuries of infidels such as General Cruz."

"And what do
you
want, General Cruz?" asked the Avatar.

"Security. I want these bastards to stop killing people."

"So there you have it," said the Avatar. "You want different things, and the things you want are in the power of the other to give, free and clear."

"That's a great idea if I want to be a Muslim," scoffed Cruz.

"Would you want to convert him?" asked the Avatar to al-Zee.

"I wouldn't waste my time," said al-Zee. "I prefer that he burn in hell."

"And do you want to control his land?" asked the Avatar.

"I want only to control Muslim land," replied al-Zee.

"That's bullshit." Cruz spit. "You'd do the same thing to us that you did to Israel. You'd breed until you controlled every country. And then you'd demand to have Muslim rule.You wouldn't stop until you owned it all."

"Imagine that future for a minute, General," encouraged the Avatar. "Let's say you have a growing Muslim population in one of your democratic NATO countries. They have the same access to voting, education, and job opportunities as everyone else in the country. Is that how terrorists are bred?"

"You're saying they'd get fat and happy?"

"I'm asking if you can imagine any other possibility. Surely you can point to examples where fairly treated, middle-class people have pushed for revolution."

Cruz was a student of history. He knew that there were no such examples, and that revolution grows from oppression and shortage, not fairness and democracy. He backed away from a losing argument and tried another approach. "I can't take that risk," he said. "You might be right. They might get seduced by leisure and decide to sit on their asses and drink Starbucks coffee instead of overthrowing the government. But I can't take that chance. And besides, how the hell would I explain to my people that I was surrendering to a weaker power?"

"Is that really the problem, General? You don't know how to
explain
the best solution? Why not let the results speak for themselves? Try it and wait a few months to see if the bombings stop. See if the terror cells disband."

Cruz looked at al-Zee and approached him. "Look me in the eye.Tell me that if I...
surrendered...
you wouldn't keep attacking. Tell me you wouldn't ask for anything."

"I would ask for an apology," said al-Zee.

"Apology?! Apology!?" Cruz yelled with two different intonations to make his point. "You bomb the crap out of us for years, you overrun Israel, our ally, and slaughter the citizens, and you want an apology from
us?!"

"It is not what I
want.
It is what I
need
to stop the violence." Al-Zee looked at the Avatar and continued. "I accept your plan. I will agree to end all violence in return for an unconditional surrender and an apology for a thousand years of indignities. I give my word—"

The General interrupted. "That's easy for you to say .You win without a fight—a fight you know you would lose. You give up nothing. But you ask me to humble myself to a bunch of thugs and terrorists."

"How many lives is your dignity worth, General?" asked the Avatar. "Does it come to this? Your pride is worth two billion lives? Is that how Jesus would have handled it?"

"That's not what I'm saying!" yelled Cruz. "This is total bullshit. The man is a terrorist. He's not going to keep his word. There's no deal to be had."

"It's simple to test," noted the Avatar. "If nothing blows up, he has kept his word. If not, then you still have the same army you had before. And you would know for sure that reasoning with him is futile, and so would the rest of the world. You'd have public opinion on your side in a way you've never had.You'd come out ahead no matter what happens."

"Why not ask al-Zee to surrender? If he stops blowing up stuff, this whole thing goes away," said Cruz.

"He would be killed in minutes, by his own followers," responded the Avatar. "It would not solve the root problem of Muslim pride. It would only worsen it. Another leader would take his place."

Cruz paced the floor in front of the window, looking out, thinking how to respond. He turned to the Avatar. "You know I'm not going to agree to this."

"Yes, I know."

"Then why go through all the trouble?"

"Short answer or long answer?" asked the Avatar.

"The short one."

"I need time. As long as you two are here, with me, the war is postponed."

"Time for what?" al-Zee asked.

"To find the one who can stop the war," said the Avatar.

"Only
we
can stop the war," said Cruz.

"No," said the Avatar. "You have just proven that you don't have the power."

"And someone else does?" asked al-Zee, annoyed by the suggestion.

"You should hope so," said the Avatar.

Cruz and al-Zee didn't shake hands or acknowledge each other again. Both felt that there was nothing more to say, so they gathered their people and left. For the rest of the day, both men pondered the opportunity they had let pass. Doubt turned to anger, and anger turned to battle planning.

It was war.

Mackey's apartment was a monument to bad home design. He was a man who lived in his head. Clothing and furniture were beyond his interest, and it showed. He was wearing pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt when the Avatar arrived. He hadn't shaved in days. His eyes were puffy and pooched, lined with gray.

"I bought you a day," said the Avatar.

"It doesn't matter. It can't be done."

"It can. I know it can."

"It's too late, anyway," said Mackey, punching up the CNN web page.

"Cruz has already deployed. He's knocking out al-Zee's communications infrastructure. We're in it now. Even if I found this magical person you're looking for, it's too late.The time for talking is over."

"Come with me to H-Two. You'll be safe there while you work."

"I'm not leaving here," said Mackey. "I have a gas mask. And they'll never let me into H-Two. My brother-in-law is a Muslim. Cruz would have me shot on the spot."

"Do you have plastic for the windows?" asked the Avatar.

"Yes, of course. I'll be fine. But I can't work with you bugging me."

An explosion sounded outside, then another, then a string of them. Some hit nearby, others were farther away. Al-Zee was already retaliating.

The Avatar wished Mackey luck and headed outside to his waiting hydrocab. Hector was gone, but his cab remained, with a note. It said: "Good luck, Mr. Avatar.The Cab is yours. May Allah help us both survive.—Ali." The Avatar got into the cab and drove toward H2. He turned on the radio to follow the war's progress and to pick the least perilous route.

The city was on fire. Over the past five years, al-Zee's cells had placed explosives in dozens of the largest buildings in the city and on the access bridges and roads into the metropolitan area. The city was isolated and on fire, but everyone knew it was only the first phase. Al-Zee's signature attack involved simultaneous events and always two phases. It was psychological warfare.When you thought the worst was over, he proved it was not.

The drones, laden with biological weapons, hadn't yet been launched. Already the city was an obstacle course of fire equipment, debris, and hysterical crowds. The Avatar's first job—it seemed so long ago—had been delivering packages. He still had an instinct for picking the best routes and the fastest moving lanes. And now that he was a fully aware Avatar, his driving skills bordered on psychic. He evaded debris and pedestrians as if he knew they were coming before he saw them, and in fact he did. His mind was a swirl of overlapping patterns. Never before had he felt so many patterns, like Venn diagrams, intersecting, rippling, dissipating, and re-creating. His mind was processing thousands of inputs, then millions, then billions. He could no longer feel his hands on the wheel or his foot on the accelerator. He belonged to the activity, a part of it, surfing its ripples, moving into openings before they formed, speeding and slowing according to some unfathomable assemblage of rules and patterns in his mind.