Stones of Fire

78

‘Doom and gloom of the worst sort, eh?’

Sitting side by side in front of the ship’s computer monitor, Edie and Cædmon stared at the Warriors of God home page.

Unnerved by its apocalyptic content, Edie shuddered. ‘You don’t really think there’s a secret message buried somewhere, do ya?’

Leaning back in his chair, Cædmon tapped his index finger against his chin. Several seconds passed in contemplative silence before he finally said, ‘My guess is that MacFarlane has used a simple alphanumeric substitution cipher. Since his flash message was intended for mass consumption, I doubt if he would employ too elaborate a code.’

‘The old KISS rule, huh?’ Seeing Cædmon’s quizzical expression, she smiled. ‘As in “Keep it simple, stupid.”’

Cædmon chuckled. ‘Let’s hope we’re right. Employing the KISS rule, I suggest we consecutively number each letter and punctuation mark in MacFarlane’s diatribe.’

Using a pencil, he carefully wrote out the ‘The Warrior’s Diary’ text on a sheet of paper. He then sequentially numbered each letter and punctuation mark.

While Cædmon busied himself with the cipher, Edie glanced nervously around, the ship’s internet computer set up in the very public club room. A few tables away a middle-aged quartet played cards. From the cigarette butts overflowing the table’s only ashtray, she guessed that they had been playing for some time. About twenty feet away, a well-dressed older man and his much younger male companion were huddled together in front of a soft-drink machine. And on the other side of the club room a harried mother openly breastfed her infant.

‘I’ll have you know that this is the same cipher that won you Yanks your independence, the words “revolution” and “patriot” being dead giveaways.’

Her eyes opened wide. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

‘Not in the least. Created by Benjamin Franklin, this particular alphanumeric cipher was used to code messages between the Continental Congress and sympathetic French diplomats. Would you like to do the honours?’ Cædmon offered her the pencil.

Taking the implement, Edie first glanced at the alphanumeric chart that he had created from MacFarlane’s web page.

Then she glanced at the list of numbers from the text message: 105-13-95-39-17-35-90-63-123-51-20-98-34-27-43- 110-87-71-41-9-54-2-120.

‘Wish me luck.’

Cædmon having done all the work, it only took a few moments for her to write out the deciphered message: ‘dome of the rock eid al-adha’.

Neither of them said anything, Edie not altogether sure what, if anything, the message meant.

‘The Dome of the Rock is the big gold-leafed Islamic shrine that sits on top of the Temple Mount, right?’

‘The most famous silhouette on the Jerusalem skyline,’ he confirmed, Edie able to detect a husky catch in his voice.

‘MacFarlane’s message means something to you, doesn’t it?’

Still staring at the decoded message, Cædmon nodded slowly. ‘I now know why Stanford Mac-Farlane and all of his men wear the Jerusalem cross ring. As you no doubt recall, the Jerusalem cross was the symbol adopted by the medieval crusaders when they conquered the Holy City in 1099.’ The entire time he spoke, he stared at the decoded message.

‘And why do you think that’s significant?’ she prodded, not altogether certain she wanted to know the answer.

‘Because Jerusalem was theirs for less than a hundred years, the Muslims under Saladin retaking the city in 1187.’ Suddenly resembling a sad-faced crusader from a medieval woodcut, Cædmon turned his head and looked at her. ‘I think MacFarlane has taken up the crusaders’ cause.’

‘What cause?’

‘Like the medieval crusaders, MacFarlane and his men intend to conquer the Holy City, and their first target is the Dome of the Rock.’

Edie’s jaw dropped. ‘When? How?’

‘I have no idea as to how. As to when, it seems they intend to attack on the Islamic holy day of Eid al-Adha. Which this year, unless I’m greatly mistaken, falls on December the eighth.’

‘But that’s only two and a half days away.’