The guard shoved al-Qasr into the mess-room on the end of his Uzi. Still bound with tape, the professor shuffled forwards.
‘Well…’ Koglu licked his lips. ‘Al-Qasr is finally under control – something the British, Americans and Israelis failed to achieve. Sit here, Professor, and answer my questions.’
‘Ask yourself some questions, General. What is the nature of deterrence?’
‘You tell me!’
‘I will. And you will thank me.’
‘What is the nature of deterrence, Professor?’
‘One side has a mighty bomb. The other side also has it. In the old days, that was enough. There was some reason, if not honour, among the thieves. But now we see men in charge of nations so inspired by dreamworlds they risk the annihilation of their countrymen.’
Aslan winced at al-Qasr’s rhetoric. ‘Just tell them about the weapon, Sami!’
‘The leaders have bunkers of course, for themselves, their friends and their families. Above all, they have their beliefs. In these they hide. How can we reach them?’
‘Tell us!’
‘With bunker-busting shells? No! I put it to you that the only deterrent that is going to work is the one that hits the beliefs of the enemy where it hurts most.’
Intrigued, Koglu’s eyebrows rose. ‘And how do we do this?’
‘I don’t refer to religious beliefs, General, or political beliefs. These are acquired as people grow up.’
‘I mean the most basic beliefs we are born with. Instincts. Things so deep that we take them for granted. Beliefs without which no nation or people could ever be shaped.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘Are you a patriot, General?’
‘I am ready to fight and die for my country.’
‘I believe you. Patriotism – or nationalism – is not only the last refuge of the scoundrel, as English scoundrels are always saying. It is also the first refuge of the threatened nation. And the nation is based not only on beliefs, but facts. The fact of reproduction. Commonality. The fact of things shared.’
Ashe spoke up. ‘You mean race, Professor. Just say so.’
‘Race, family, culture – deep and vital assumptions about the future. How could a dictator rule a nation where there was no nation?’
‘But there have always been nations, tribes…’
‘Not necessarily, General. Our mythology preserves knowledge that once it was different.’
‘Mythology!’
‘Yes. First there was the myth of ancient Troy. Then Schliemann discovered it – and he discovered it with science! Look at the myth of the Tower of Babel! In that myth, division into races is seen as a punishment, a punishment sent by a jealous God for man’s relying on his own knowledge and building to the skies. But, today, the sky is not the limit. Now we see division into races as genetic mutation, occurring over many thousands of years. Primordial genetic mutation has resulted in the principal races and sub-races of the world. Was this a tragedy? Or an opportunity?’
‘I don’t know, and I doubt if I care, Professor. What have you discovered?’
‘I have discovered a lost truth, General. As a result of the ancient practice of endogamy—’
‘En… what?’
‘Marriage confined strictly to a family or clan, General.’
‘Thank you, Colonel. Go on, Professor.’
‘Thanks to endogamy practised over millennia, I have discovered a genome template that takes us beyond Babel into a totally new era. My scientific manipulation of this genetic material unleashes extraordinary power. I present to you a retroviral weapon to change humanity, permanently!’
Al-Qasr’s speech held nothing new for Ashe. His attention wandered, not out of frustration, but because something was shifting his awareness away from the depressing scenario conjured up by al-Qasr’s apocalyptic, visionary science. As though pulled up magnetically into Ashe’s consciousness, an image was struggling to surface. It was there; then it was gone. Then it was there! The image was clear: the weird man, the camouflaged figure who’d stopped him on the road to ODDBALLS that terrible morning, nearly nine months before. The charcoal-written sheet thrust at him by the green prophet… What had it said? The Tower of Babel is being rebuilt and must be destroyed.
Was there to be a catastrophic new division of the human race?
‘And so, General, we come to the weapon. Imagine, General, imagine all of you, if your son and his wife are expecting a child, and when it is born, it looks nothing like its parents, or brothers, sisters or cousins. Imagine if the child is simply of another race. Mutated beyond any control of the parents.’
Koglu looked nonplussed.
‘A few crazy idealists might think “How nice!” But think again. Imagine if, after the retrovirus takes hold, with every replacement of fresh cells in the individual, personal characteristics begin to change. Not only in the child, but in the parent as well. Think about it! Depending on how the weapon is targeted, the Arab gives birth to the Jew, the Jew to the Arab, the Chinese to the Japanese, the Japanese to the Korean, the Indian to the African. And even these isolated race-types will change beyond recognition – different mentalities, unfamiliar identities. And so on, and on, and on. And on. In less than a generation, there will be no nation to govern. No commonality to appeal to. Brother would not recognise sister. Children would feel divorced from parents, teachers, each other. There will be nothing left to defend! No idea of home!
‘The nation that succumbed to this weapon, General, would be cast into the most profound and permanent identity crisis conceivable. After a short period, the long-term effects would become entirely unpredictable. More than this, I can target this weapon to affect one family, any family I choose, or one individual, at any time.
‘No group of people who knew that something like this existed would ever allow their rulers to risk exposure to its cataclysmic psychological power. And remember, General, this weapon causes no obvious death or destruction. You could even say it is harmless. Indeed, physically speaking, it is the world’s first completely harmless weapon. But when its potential is fully grasped, is this not the most devastating weapon against human culture imaginable, a hair’s breadth short of annihilation of a species? A weapon of destruction of the masses! Think about it!’
Ashe got up. ‘I have thought about it. And what we have here is something incredible, marvellous. Almost beyond imagining.’
Beck was incredulous. ‘The destruction of human culture – marvellous?’
Ashe sensed something strange happening outside of the compound. He walked towards the window, took a closer look into the distance. He turned to al-Qasr. ‘Tell us, Professor, what distinguishes the genetic material on which the weapon is based?’
‘Technical secrets must be reserved. I can only say that the distinction lies in the pre-mutational character of the material.’
‘We get that already. Give an example.’ Ashe was sure there was movement at the compound perimeter.
Al-Qasr thought for a second. ‘Pineal gland function…’
‘Do you refer to the production of dimethyltryptamine?’
‘What?’
Ashe turned to Koglu. ‘DMT for short, General. It’s like the brain’s own spirit-and-vision drug, produced, according to recent research, in the pineal gland. That’s the tiny gland between the brain’s hemispheres. DMT affects perception experience. Isolated, it can induce “spiritual experiences”, infinity beyond reason… maybe even… God.’
Koglu banged the desk. ‘What’s he on about, al-Qasr?’
‘Genetic mutations found in the rest of our species are absent from the test material.’
‘What is this “test material”?’
Ashe answered. ‘The professor extracted DNA from a specific line of Yezidis.’
‘Kurds? Damn Kurds! This is insane! Genius belongs to the Turks! Atatürk was surely right about this!’
‘Well, General. You can believe you are a superior race, but the genes hold the truth.’
‘Truth, Dr Ashe? Truth! This is all theory!’
Al-Qasr shook his head, wriggling under his burden of sealing tape. ‘No, General. Not theory. My weapon is fact!’
‘How can this be fact?’
‘Because our inherited genetic mutations have reduced the pineal gland’s capacity to produce the type, quality and quantity of DMT you find as a potential in my ancient genetic profile.’
‘So the Yezidis are freaks. So what?’
‘General Koglu, you are an ignorant man!’
Koglu gave Ashe a murderous stare. Beck and Fless backed Ashe up. ‘He’s right! Why don’t you listen?’
Ashe addressed al-Qasr. ‘Don’t you see, Professor, if you would only cease thinking in terms of weapons, what you have here is a discovery that could positively transform the whole human race.’
‘Don’t you mean human races, Dr Ashe?’
‘That’s the point, General. How can I put this? What if al-Qasr’s discoveries give us the opportunity to undo the Babel story – the division of the races and loss of spiritual vision? Rather than threatening the end of one nation, could we not envision a return to humankind as one supremely gifted race?’
‘I had no idea British intelligence had become a recruitment ground for New Age fantasists!’
Aslan laughed out loud. ‘General Koglu! You surprise me! I thought you had a commercial brain. Can you not see the potential – for Turkey?’
‘I gotta say, General…’
‘Yes, Mr Beck?’
‘Well, from what I’m hearing here, I reckon the world’s just about ready for some kind of evolutionary leap. I’d be dishonest if I… well… I guess we’d all like to buy into this thing.’
Koglu rubbed his chin. ‘I’m not stupid, Colonel Aslan. I can see that if Mr Beck is interested, there will be more in line behind him. Do I take it now that you wish to be a benefactor, rather than a traitor, to your country?’
‘I have never been a traitor, General. Turkey is my religion! And I want our nation to enjoy all aspects of this discovery. The weapons potential will free Turkey politically. The innovative science and technology – this we can sell. Tell that to your friends in Ankara!’
‘Have I misjudged you, Colonel?’
Fless broke the silence. ‘And just who’s going to be the new Atatürk, General? You? Or the colonel?’
Koglu became agitated. ‘Colonel, it is clear we have the makings of a deal. But what are we to do with our… foreign visitors?’
Koglu stared at the three defenceless agents.
Al-Qasr spoke up. ‘Kill them. And get me out of this! And call your guard off. He gives me the creeps.’
Through the window, silhouetted against the setting sun, Aslan observed a personnel carrier approaching. It skidded into the forecourt. Thinking it one of his own, Koglu drew his pistol and aimed it at Fless, Ashe and Beck.
Ashe spoke up. ‘Aslan’s men have come for you, General. Look!’
Koglu looked out of the window, sniffed, then turned abruptly, pointing his gun at Aslan.