SUMMATION (26 page)

           That was it. No expression. Nothing further.
Just 'down'. They looked at each other. The elder kind of rolled his eyes and
shrugged his shoulders at his son. "Can't be too much further", to no
one in particular.

           No one in particular answered. Actually, it was
quite a bit further.

           The door opened to another world. Perhaps the
same geographically, but certainly another world culturally. Subdued lighting,
shaded walls, expensive rugs, furniture and paintings.

           This guy was definitely living on another level.
This should have been in the penthouse suite, not buried who knew how deeply
below.

           Gerhard Richter was and always had been very
wealthy, surrounded by the best, but even he was impressed with what he saw. Standing
in front of one of the ornate mirrors lining the hall, he looked at himself and
his son. Wrinkled suits, mussed hair. Not a very impressive way to meet the
owner of all this.  Then he laughed. A good, hearty laugh. His son thought he
had gone nuts.

           "I think I'm gonna like this guy," he
told his son.
A man after my own heart
, he thought. He had quickly
grasped the advantage Zarin was trying to obtain, not unlike something he would
have done. At least they were on the same wavelength. That gave him some
comfort.

           He didn't say any of this to his son, who was
still looking at him, wondering about the laugh.

           "Welcome. Welcome to my home away from
home. And my office." Zarin came around the corner at the end of the hall.

           "And your communications, security, and command
center," added the father, "all located within a security zone buffer
more than a kilometer in diameter."

           "Aaaahh, very good. Very observant.
Straight to the point, no mincing words. We shall get along famously. Please
follow me."

           They followed him down the hall, turning at the
end, and passing through a rather large conference room, with a large, oval
table capable of seating eighteen or twenty. Behind this, through open double
doors was a smaller, more intimate meeting room, seating perhaps eight. Elaborate
electronics were on the wall- more subtly in the large conference room, less so
in the busy room beyond. Command center was right on target. At least a dozen
men, each at a console with at least three, sometimes a half dozen screens. Multiple
phones could be heard ringing, but again, all was in as subtle, subdued, and
understated a manner as possible, given their task.
This guy has class with
his power
, Gerhardt thought.
This guy could go places
.

           Finally they entered anther small conference
room. A single flat screen covered about two thirds of one wall. Modern
paintings were interspersed with intricate tile work from many hundreds of
years before in an eclectic, but surprisingly well coordinated display merging
past and present.
It's safe to assume that these aren't prints
, Gerhardt
thought,
and these other pieces, if not on loan from a museum, ought to be.

           "What do you think of it, Herr Richter?"
Their host proudly waved his hand in the direction of the wall. "Some
pieces were rather, shall we say, difficult to obtain."

           "More like impossible. I know this one. Seems
it disappeared from a museum in Munich some fifteen, maybe twenty years ago-"

           "Eighteen. Very good."

           "- and that one." He pointed to a
Byzantine tile mural full of symmetric designs, in which was hidden, within the
intricate design, the story describing the beginning of time.

           "If I'm not mistaken, that one was at one
time in the National Museum of History in Jerusalem. Let's say about a dozen
years ago?"

           "Only nine. Very good, Herr Richter. You
amaze me with your knowledge of the arts. I cannot seem to remember the details
of the first, but the second was simply repatriated from the Zionist Jews that
had stolen it from its rightful Muslim owners."

           "I very much doubt you cannot remember the
details, sir. You do not strike me as someone who would
forget
details
of that sort. But no matter. That's not why we are all here. I was simply
admiring."

           "As you say." He swept his arm broadly
around, waving them all to seating.

           "Please, be seated. You may speak freely
here. And I do mean freely."

           They sat down. For a moment they looked at each
other.

           Hans opened with "Well, how do we start?"

           Zarin and Gerhardt both looked at Hans, then each
other. "Out of the mouths of babes," said the father. "As our
host, perhaps you should begin."

           "Very well. Let's get down to it, then. To
be succinct, who are you, and what do you know about me?"

           The elder Richter started, and where he paused,
the younger picked up, regaining his composure now that they all seemed to be
relaxing and dealing in such a straight forward manner. After just a few
minutes, Zarin held up his hand. He knew they were for real.

           "I think I've heard enough to get started. Let
me show you something I have just received, just hours ago. I think I can fill
in some of the pieces."

* * *

           And they talked. For almost two hours.

           "Gentlemen, please forgive my rudeness. Allow
me to have my men return you to your hotel. Freshen up, change, whatever. In..."
he looked up at the clock, "... two hours we will meet back here, and we
will get down to specifics. I would allow you time to rest, but there is none. We
are ready to move, and you have little time to play your part."

* * *

           Two hours later, they sat down again, not in the
meeting room, but to a sumptuous meal, served in the large conference room they
had passed through earlier. Over their meal, Zarin informed them of his plans. Rather
than appearing shocked, the Richter's both smiled, excitedly. This was why they
were here.

           Hans had no apparent role, but his father's was
very important. He would be the primary contact to the European Union. His
media access would lead the way - other outlets would have no choice but to follow
the news he created. He would lend credibility to the entire process. Gerhardt
went to the smaller room through the double doors off the main room, and
started pressing buttons on the phone. It was time for some calls to set some
wheels in motion.

           Hans was troubled, though. "I'm sorry, sir,
but I still don't understand. Just what is my role in all this?"

           Zarin leaned back in his chair, pressing his
fingertips together with his elbows resting on the Corinthian leather armrests.
Looking straight at him, he paused.

           "I have no idea. In all honesty, I was not
originally convinced of your father's intentions. I have great use for your
father, but, and I mean no offense, but I see no use for you. Quite frankly,
you were more of an insurance policy. I see now there was no need for that. I
trust you will enjoy the rest of your visit. I will arrange for some
distractions I'm sure you'll find very entertaining. At the proper time, you
may also be in attendance, perhaps to emphasize the forward planning of our group,
our looking to the future."

           Hans was shocked by the bluntness of his
comment, but found that he had to agree. He was feeling very uncomfortable.
Why
was he here? What did it all mean? He was to have been the protector. Even his
father had said so. It had already been passed down. How could he be left out?

           Zarin softened somewhat. "Please don't take
offense. If not for you, we probably wouldn't be sitting here now. Perhaps your
role is not a significant one, but certainly you were part of making this all
possible. Who knows, there may be more for you to help with. We'll see.

           "Mr. Richter!" he called out, "Is
everything alright?" Gerhardt held up one finger while speaking with
someone on the phone. A moment later, he hung up.

           "That was good news for us. That was Mark
Heinz, CEO and one of the largest shareholders of
Die Heutige
Welt
,
'Today's World', another communications group in Munich. I'm sure you're
familiar with all the media resources they encompass. A competitor, yes, but
also a friend, and more importantly, a powerful man, sympathetic to our cause.  He
will be on board to cover and support us as well. I didn't give him any
specifics, but let him know that it will be the scoop of the decade, with more
to follow up. Plus, I know personally that he's no fan of those Zionists, nor
are most of his readers."

           "Wonderful, that
is
good news, very
good news indeed."

           "But there's more. It seems our meeting is
not so secret. The fact that we are here has been broadcast worldwide."

           Zarin's eyes opened wide. Holding up a hand, one
of his aides rushed over. "Look into this and get back to me
fast
."
The man bowed deeply at the waist, saying nothing, but quickly walking out of
the room.

           "How could this happen?" Zarin was
visibly angry. He was not used to being out of control. Information release was
tightly controlled. "Certainly there have been no leaks at my end. To whom
did you speak?"

           It was the elder Richter's turn to flip from
puzzled to angry. "No way. This was not our doing. I have contacted no
one. Only a few of my very top people even know I left the U.S.  I don't know
what's going on."

           The aide returned, whispering into Zarin's ear. After
a few moments, he nodded slightly and stopped the man. Turning back to his
guests, he stood up.

           "My apologies, gentlemen. It seems neither
of us are to blame. The story seems to have been released by other parties.
Shall we continue?

           "I was going to show you the stage we will
be announcing from sometime tomorrow. You see the podium in the center. I'd
like you both to be on my left in those first two chairs. My communic....

           "What's the matter?" He noticed the
two staring at the podium. There was an intricate web of lines and curves. In
the center, not obvious, but definitely there, if you looked carefully, were two
designs. One was the pentacle circumscribed by a circle, and the other, the
summation sign. Both were idealized and woven into the overall design such that
they were partially hidden. One would pretty much have to know what to look for
to see it in the design. But they had seen it - others would too.

           "Isn't that a pentagram?" asked
Gerhardt. "A symbol tied to witchcraft, silly or not, won't go over very
well with the general public. I'm surprised your people haven't said something
about it."

           "You have very good perception. Few people
notice it in the design. It wasn't my choice. It was given to me by the man who
gave me the letter. The symbol is hidden within a complex design, still
present, still open, but normally unseen. He said that if the time were right,
this would make the difference. If not, he would return for it to pass on next
time. I have no idea what he meant."

           "Make a difference how?" asked the
elder Richter.

"He claimed it was made of the very material that started
us out, from that star thing. I don't know, or claim to understand, but I
simply had it mounted on the podium as directed. "

           Hans stepped closer for a better look, then
jumped back. "What was that?"

* * *

           There was a quick flicker of the lights, but no
one had really noticed. This time.

           Beg pardon?" asked the host.

           Hans stepped forward again, and grabbed his
head. "That."

           He slowly continued moving toward the podium. "What
is that?" This time the flicker was more noticeable. He stepped back to
his chair and sat down.

           The elder Richter and Zarin looked at each
other. Both frowned, and looked back at Hans.

           "Hans, what is it?"     

           "It's, it's, kind of like, on the road. I,
it felt kind of funny."

           "You okay, son? Want to lie down?"

           Assad Zarin was already on the phone, requesting
his personal physician. Discretion was important, and his doctor would not be a
problem.       

           "No, I feel fine. It didn't hurt, it just
kind of surprised me. I don't know why. I don't know what would have triggered
that
."

           Zarin was still across the room on the phone.

           "I know we just discussed that," he
said softly so only his father could hear, "but I'm not stressed, not
really. I feel completely in control. I'm okay now."

           He stood up. He was right, he felt fine. Actually,
he felt kind of stupid.
Stupid, but fine. Now there's a combination. Stupid,
but fine.
He shook his head.

           "I have my physician coming. Please rest a
moment."

           "Thank you, but I'm fine. Really. There's
nothing wrong. If it changes, I'll be happy to see him, but I'm fine now."

           "Very well, if you're sure, but please, it's
no bother." He paused to make sure.

           "Well then," Zarin continued, "as
I was saying, this is our communications center, as your father so accurately
described. The cameras, of course, will be as you see them now. Not only do we
have the formal background, but it can be switched at the touch of a button to
a green screen, allowing us to use whatever background is most appropriate at a
moment's notice, similar to any well-equipped television station."  

           All three walked up to the stage.

           Again, he felt it. Not pain, but strength. He
didn't feel worse, he realized that he felt
better
. He didn't say
anything, but the feeling became - almost exhilarating. It didn't make sense. He
looked around to see what could be causing it. For a moment he wondered if he
had been drugged, but they hadn't taken anything. One more step forward, and he
focused on the podium. More specifically, the carved emblem on the front. He
could feel a surge as he reached forward. On closer examination, he could see
the entire symbol wasn't a single piece, but rather, the original star symbol
was made of some kind of stone, with the rest of the design added around it. In
fact, as he looked more closely, he could see that the original stone was
carved into a pentagram enclosed by a circle. Unless you were right next to it,
you wouldn't know it. The lines and curves continued through and around it so
that on casual glance, one would normally not see the star or its completed
pentagram. Perhaps they had been overly concerned.