The Traveler Read online

  Government officials who supported the Brethren had provided access codes to crucial databases. The largest source was the Total Information Awareness system, established by the American government after the passage of the United States Patriot Act. The TIA database was designed to process and analyze every computer-connected transaction in the country. Whenever a person used a credit card, checked out a library book, transferred money overseas, or went on a trip, the information was entered into the centralized database. A few libertarians objected to this intrusion, so the government transferred control of the program to the intelligence community and changed its name to the Terrorism Information Awareness system. Once the word "Total" was replaced by the word "Terrorism," all the criticism stopped.

  Other countries were passing new security laws and setting up their own versions of TIA. In addition, a variety of privately owned companies were collecting and selling personal information. If the Tabula employees at the computer center in London couldn't obtain the access codes, they had software programs called Peephole, Hacksaw, and Sledgehammer that allowed them to break through firewalls and enter every database in the world.

  Boone felt that the most promising weapons in the battle against the Brethren's enemies were the new computational immunology programs. The CI programs had originally been developed to monitor the Royal Mail's computer system in England. The Brethren's programs were even more powerful. They treated the entire Internet as if it were an enormous human body. The programs acted like electronic lymphocytes that targeted dangerous ideas and information.

  During the last few years, CI programs had been released onto the Internet by the Brethren's computer team. The self-contained programs wandered unnoticed through thousands of computer systems. Sometimes they lingered like a lymphocyte in a person's home computer, waiting for an infectious idea to appear. If they found something suspicious, the program would return to the host computer in London for further instructions.

  The Brethren scientists were also experimenting with a new interactive program that could actually punish the Brethren's enemies, like a cluster of white blood cells dealing with an infection. The CI program identified people who mentioned the Travelers or the Harlequins in their Internet communications. Once that was done, the program automatically placed a data-destroying virus in the owner's computer. A small proportion of the most dangerous computer viruses on the Internet had been created by the Brethren or their government allies. It was easy to place the blame on a seventeen-year-old computer hacker living in Poland.

  Maya had been tracked down using both computational immunology and a conventional data scan. Three days earlier, the Harlequin had entered an automobile parts warehouse and killed some mercenaries. When Maya fled the area, she'd either had to walk, get a ride from someone, buy a car, or find public transportation. The computer center in London had sorted through Los Angeles police reports involving a young woman in the target area. When that wasn't successful, they entered taxi company computer systems to discover what passengers hired cabs during the four-hour period after the murders. These pickup and drop-off addresses were matched against information obtained by the CI programs. The central computer had the names and addresses of thousands of people who might help the Travelers or the Harlequins.

  Five years ago, the Brethren's psychological evaluation team had plugged into the computers of the shopping clubs run by American grocery stores. Whenever a person bought something and used their discount card, the purchases were entered into a general database. During the initial study, the Brethren's psychologists attempted to match a person's food and alcohol consumption with their political affiliation. Boone had seen some of the statistical correlations and they were fascinating. Women living in northern California who bought more than three kinds of mustard were usually political liberals. Men who bought expensive bottled beer in East Texas were usually conservative. With a home address and data from a minimum of two hundred grocery-store purchases, the psychological evaluation team could accurately predict a person's attitude toward a mandatory citizen ID card.

  Boone found it interesting to see what kind of people resisted social discipline and order. Opposition sometimes came from anti-technology tree huggers who ate organic food and shunned the factory food manufactured by the Vast Machine. But equally troublesome groups were organized by the high-technology freaks that ate candy bars for dinner and searched the Internet for rumors about the Travelers.

  By the time Boone's plane flew over Pennsylvania, the monitoring center had sent a message to Boone's computer. Drop-off address corresponds to residence of Thomas Walks the Ground—nephew of a terminated Native American Traveler. Computational immunology picked up negative remarks concerning the Brethren placed by this individual on a Crow tribe Web site.

  The jet plane banked steeply as they approached a regional airport near the Evergreen Foundation's research center. Boone switched off his computer and glanced over at Michael. The Brethren had found this young man and saved him from the Harlequins, but he might refuse to cooperate. It annoyed Boone that people still refused to recognize the truth. There was no need to worry about religion or philosophy; the truth was determined by whoever was in power.

  ***

  THE CORPORATE JET landed at the Westchester County Airport and taxied to a private hangar. A few minutes later, Boone climbed down the steps of the plane. The sky was gray with clouds and there was a cold autumn feeling in the air.

  Lawrence Takawa was waiting beside the ambulance that would transport Michael to the Evergreen Foundation Research Center. He gave orders to a team of paramedics, and then walked over to Boone.

  "Welcome back," Takawa said. "How's Michael?"

  "He'll be all right. Is everything ready at the center?"

  "We were prepared two days ago, but we've had to make some last-minute adjustments. General Nash contacted the psychological evaluation team and they've given us a new strategy for dealing with Michael."

  There was a slight tension in Lawrence Takawa's voice and Boone glanced at the young man. Every time he saw Nash's assistant, Lawrence was carrying something—a clipboard, a folder, a piece of paper—an object that proclaimed his authority.

  "Do you have a problem with that?" Boone asked.

  "The new strategy does seem rather aggressive," Lawrence said. "I don't know if that's necessary."

  Boone turned on his heel and looked back at the jet. Dr. Potterfield supervised a team of paramedics as they eased the stretcher onto the tarmac. "Everything has changed now that the Harlequins have taken control of Gabriel. We have to make sure that Michael is working for our side."

  Lawrence glanced at his clipboard. "I've read the preliminary reports about the two brothers. It sounds like they have a close relationship."

  "Love is just another means of manipulation," Boone said. "We can use that emotion like we use hatred and fear."

  Michael's stretcher was placed on a steel gurney and pushed across the tarmac to the ambulance. Still looking worried, Dr. Potterfield remained with his patient.

  "Do you understand our objective, Mr. Takawa?"

  "Yes, sir."

  Boone made a quick motion with his right hand that seemed to take in the plane and the ambulance and all the employees working for the Brethren. "This is our army," he said. "And Michael Corrigan has become our new weapon."

  Chapter 25

  Vicki Fraser watched Hollis and Gabriel grab the motorcycle and lift it into the back of the van. "You drive," Hollis said as he tossed the keys to Vicki. He and Gabriel crouched beside the motorcycle while Maya remained in the front passenger seat with the shotgun on her lap.

  They turned west and got lost on the narrow residential streets that cut through the Hollywood hills. Gabriel kept asking Maya questions about his family's background; he seemed desperate to find out everything as quickly as possible.

  Vicki knew only a few facts about the Travelers and the Harlequins, and she listened carefully to the conversation. The abi
lity to cross over into other realms seemed to be genetic, inherited from a parent or a relative, but occasionally new Travelers appeared without a family connection. Harlequins keep elaborate lineages of past Travelers and this was how Thorn had known about Gabriel's father.

  Hollis lived a few blocks away from his storefront capoeira school. The single-family homes in the area had front yards and flower beds, but gang graffiti was spray-painted with dripping lines on the walls and billboards. When they turned off Florence Avenue

  , Hollis told Maya to move to the back of the van. Sitting up front, he instructed Vicki to slow down whenever they saw groups of young men wearing extra-large clothes and blue bandannas. Each time they stopped beside these gang members, Hollis would shake hands with the young men and use their street names.

  "Some people might come around and ask about me," he told them. "Tell 'em they're in the wrong neighborhood."

  The driveway of Hollis's two-bedroom house was blocked by a chain-link gate woven with plastic strips. Once they drove the van down the driveway and closed the gate, the vehicle was concealed from the street. Hollis unlocked the back door and they went into the house. Each room was clean and uncluttered, and Vicki didn't see any signs of a girlfriend. The curtains were made out of bedsheets, oranges were stored in a clean automobile hubcap, and one bedroom had been filled with barbells and turned into a gym.

  Vicki sat down at the kitchen table with Gabriel and Maya. Hollis took an assault rifle out of a broom closet, snapped in an ammunition clip, and placed the weapon on the counter. "We'll be safe here," he said. "If someone attacks the house, I'll keep them busy. You jump over the wall to my neighbor's backyard."

  Gabriel shook his head. "I don't want anyone to risk their life for me."

  "I'm getting paid for this," Hollis said. "Maya is the one who's doing it for free."

  Everyone watched as Hollis filled up a kettle and boiled water for tea. He opened the refrigerator and took out bread, cheese, strawberries, and two ripe mangos. "Is everybody hungry?" he asked. "I think I've got enough food."

  Vicki decided to make a fruit salad while Hollis made grilled-cheese sandwiches. She liked standing at the counter and slicing up the strawberries. It was uncomfortable to sit next to Maya. The Harlequin looked exhausted, but she couldn't seem to relax. Vicki thought that it would be painful to go through life always being ready to kill, always expecting to be attacked. She remembered the letter that Isaac T. Jones had written to his congregation about Hell. There was a real Hell, of course. The Prophet had seen it with his own eyes. But my brothers and sisters, your main concern should be the Hell you create within your own hearts.

  "You told me a few things about the Travelers when we were in the van," Gabriel said to Maya. "But what about the rest of it? Tell me about the Harlequins."

  Maya adjusted the cord on her sword's carrying case. "Harlequins protect Travelers. That's all you need to know."

  "Are there leaders and rules? Did someone order you to come to America?"

  "No. It was my own decision."

  "But why didn't your father come with you?"

  Maya's eyes were focused on the salt shaker in the middle of the table. "My father was killed a week ago in Prague."

  "The Tabula did it?" Hollis asked.

  "Correct."

  "What happened?"

  "That's not your concern." Maya's voice was controlled, but her body was almost rigid with anger. Vicki felt like the Harlequin was ready to jump up and destroy all of them. "I've accepted an obligation to protect Gabriel and his brother. When that's done, I'm going to hunt down the man who killed my father."

  "Did Michael and I have anything to do with this?" Gabriel asked. "Not really. The Tabula have been hunting my father for most of his life. He was almost killed two years ago in Pakistan." "I'm sorry—"

  "Don't waste your emotions," Maya said. "We feel nothing for the rest of the world and expect nothing in return. When I was a child, my father used to tell me: Verdammt durch das Fleisch. Gerettet durch das Blut. It means: Damned by the flesh. Saved by the blood. Harlequins are condemned to fight a battle without end. But maybe the Travelers will save us from Hell."

  "And how long have they been fighting this battle?" Hollis asked.

  Maya pushed the hair away from her face. "My father said that we are an unbroken line of warriors that has lasted for thousands of years. On Passover, he would light candles and read from chapter eighteen in the book of John. After Jesus spends the night in the garden at Gethsemane, Judas shows up with Roman soldiers and officers sent by the chief priest."

  "I know that passage in the Bible," Hollis said. "Actually, it's kind of a strange detail. Jesus is supposed to be the Prince of Peace. Throughout the New Testament, no one has ever mentioned weapons or bodyguards, but suddenly one of the disciples—"

  "It's Peter," Vicki said.

  "Right. Now I remember, Anyway, Peter draws a sword and cuts off the ear of the high priest's servant, a man named ..."

  This time Hollis glanced at Vicki, knowing that she would have the answer.

  "Malchus."

  "Right again." Hollis nodded. "So the bad guy is standing there in the garden with only one ear."

  "Some scholars feel that Peter was a member of the Zealots," Maya said. "But my father believed that he was the first Harlequin to be mentioned in a historical document."

  "Are you telling us that Jesus was a Traveler?" Vicki asked.

  "Harlequins are fighters, not theologians. We don't make pronouncements about which Traveler is the true embodiment of the Light. The most important Traveler could be Jesus or Muhammad or the Buddha. Or it could be an obscure Hasidic rabbi who was killed in the Holocaust. We defend Travelers, but we don't judge their holiness. That's up to the faithful."

  "But your father quoted from the Bible," Gabriel said.

  "I come from the European branch of Harlequins and we have close ties with Christianity. In fact, some Harlequins read farther in the book of John. After Jesus was taken away, Peter—"

  "—backed out on Jesus." Hollis turned away from the stove. "He was a disciple, but he denied his Lord three times."

  "The legend is that Harlequins are damned by this. Because Peter didn't stay loyal at that moment, we must defend the Travelers until the end of time."

  "Sounds like you don't buy that," Hollis said.

  "It's just a story in the Bible. I don't accept it for myself, but I do believe that there is a secret history of the world. There have always been warriors defending pilgrims or other spiritual seekers. During the Crusades, a group of Christian knights began to protect the pilgrims traveling to the Holy Land. Baldwin II, the crusader king of Jerusalem, let these knights occupy part of the former Jewish temple. They began to call themselves the Poor Knights of Christ and Knights of the Temple of Solomon."

  "Weren't they usually called the Templars?" Gabriel asked.

  "Yes, that's the common name. The Templars became a rich, powerful order that controlled churches and castles throughout Europe. They owned ships and would lend money to European kings. Eventually the Templars stopped occupying the Holy Land and started to defend people who made spiritual journeys. They developed connections with heretical groups, the Bogomils in Bulgaria and the Cathars in France. These people were Gnostics who believed that the soul is trapped within the body. Only individuals given a secret knowledge are able to escape this prison and enter into different realms."

  "Then the Templars were destroyed," Gabriel said.

  Maya nodded slowly, as if reminding herself of a story she had learned long ago. "King Philip of France feared their power and wanted to seize their treasury. In 1307, he sent his troops into the Templar headquarters and arrested them for heresy. The grand master of the Templars was burned at the stake and the order ceased to exist—publicly. But only a few Templars were killed. Most of them went underground and continued their activities."

  "Lunchtime," Hollis said. He set a plate of sandwiches on the table and Vicki f
inished making the fruit salad. Everyone sat down and began eating. Maya had relaxed slightly, but it was still an un comfortable atmosphere. The Harlequin stared at Gabriel as if she was trying to decide if he had the power to cross over. Gabriel seemed to know what she was thinking. He looked down at his plate and picked at his food.

  "But why are you called Harlequins?" Hollis asked Maya. "Isn't that some kind of actor with a painted face, like a clown?"

  "We took that name in the seventeenth century. The Harlequin is one of the characters in Italian commedia dell'arte, usually a clever servant. The Harlequin character wears a costume with diamond shapes. Sometimes he plays the lute or carries a wooden sword. The Harlequin always wears a mask, concealing his identity"

  "But that's an Italian name," Hollis said. "I was told that Harlequins used to be in Japan and Persia and just about every other place in the world."

  "In the seventeenth century, the European Harlequins began to contact warriors from other cultures who were also defending Travelers. Our first alliance was with the Sikhs living in the Punjab. Like the Harlequins, devout Sikhs carry a ritual sword called a kirpan. Around the same time, we also made alliances with Buddhist and Sufi warriors. In the eighteenth century, we were joined by an order of Jewish fighters in Russia and Eastern Europe that defended rabbis who studied the Kabbalah."