Vienna Secrets

73

MORDECAI BEN JUDAH LEVI and Barash were seated opposite each other. The scholar, who had previously spoken out confidently, demonstrating his extensive knowledge of kabbalistic arcana, was now less sure of himself. Barash’s Spartan parlor, with its various dun and indefinite shades, had absorbed Levi’s charisma. He was curiously diminished, and Barash correspondingly enlarged.

Introductory remarks had been superseded by a lengthy silence, which, although discomforting for Levi, did not trouble Barash. He tolerated the hiatus with the infinite patience of a statue. Levi shifted in his seat, coughed into his hand, and ventured a question. “You said he would reveal himself. And the following week: Alois Gasse. How did you know?”

“It was inevitable,” said Barash.

Another silence.

“What transpired at the Ulrichskirche…,” Levi began again. “It was most unexpected.”

“Indeed,” Barash replied. “At first, I did not believe such a thing possible. But we live in interesting times, and the victim was, I am informed, a wicked man-a procurer.” Barash linked his fingers. “Let us suppose, then, that Jeheil Sachs met his end staring into the eyes of the kabbalist’s creation. What can this mean? Just one thing, surely, a signal-and a clear one at that: we must be united, or a great tragedy will befall us.”

Levi massaged his forehead. A feeling of pressure had begun to build up behind his eyes accompanied by a dull, aching pulse.

“Unity…” Levi’s voice faltered. “Unity, so that we are strong?”

“If he calls, my people will be ready. I hope that yours too will be sufficiently prepared.”

There were voices outside in the street. Shouting, good-humored banter. It sounded distant, almost from another world.

Levi said, “I heard that one of your students, the young shopkeeper who lives with his sick father-”

“The spirit of Prague,” Barash interrupted, “has returned to us. Our enemies will not find us so compliant now, so willing to submit.”

“Do you approve of what the boy did?”

“We must protect our interests.”

“I agree, but I am not convinced that violence is the answer.”

“Then why did Rabbi Loew make his golem? An eye for an eye!”

Barash stood up angrily and went to the sideboard. He opened a door and removed a scroll. Returning to his chair, he unrolled the thick parchment paper and laid the exposed page down on the floor. Levi leaned forward to examine it.

The page was a cosmological chart consisting of circles, constellations, and planetary symbols. In various places the letters of Hebrew phrases-quotes from religious works-had been converted into numbers. These products were then absorbed into what appeared to be an ongoing calculation, the overall structure of which resembled an inverted pyramid. The pinnacle was blunt and consisted of four digits executed in bright red ink: 1903.

“This year,” said Levi. “According to the Gregorian calendar.”

“Yes,” said Barash. “A new cycle-a new age.”

Levi pulled at his beard.

“With respect: a new age, yes. But are you sure that it will favor us, and not our enemies?”

Barash did not distinguish the question with a reply. As far as he was concerned, his gematria was faultless.