Tom Clancy's op-center_ acts of war - Tom Clancy [2]
Ibrahim put his sunglasses back on. The world became dark again.
Today, the only reason most people cross al-Gezira is to travel to Turkey. That was true for Ibrahim, though he wasn't most people. Most people came with cameras to photograph the bazaars or the World War I trenches or the mosques. They came with maps and picks for archaeological digs, or with American jeans or Japanese electronics to sell on the black market.
Ibrahim and his team came with something else. A purpose. To return the waters to al-Gezira.
* * *
TWO
Monday, 1:22 p.m.,
Sanliurfa, Turkey
Attorney Lowell Coffey II stood on the shaded side of a nondescript, six-wheel white trailer and touched the hem of his red neckerchief. He dabbed away the sweat that was dripping into his eyes. He silently cursed the hum of the battery-powered engine that told him the air-conditioning was running inside the van. Then he stared across barren terrain, which was dotted with dry hills. Three hundred yards away was a deserted asphalt road that rippled beneath the afternoon heat. Beyond that, separated by three barren miles and more than five thousand years, was the city of Sanliurfa.
Thirty-three-year-old biophysicist Dr. Phil Katzen stood to the attorney's right. The long-haired scientist shielded his eyes as he looked toward the dusty outline of the ancient metropolis.
"Did you know, Lowell," Katzen said, "that ten thousand years ago, right where we're standing, is where beasts of burden were first domesticated? They were aurochs--wild ox. They tilled the soil right under our feet."
"That's great," Coffey said. "And you can probably tell me what the soil composition was then too. Right?"
"No." Katzen smiled. "Only now. All of the nations in this region have to keep records like that to see how long the fanmlands'll hold out. I've got the soil file on diskette. As soon as Mike and Mary Rose are finished, I'll load it up if you want to read it."
"No, thanks," Coffey said. "I have enough trouble retaining all the goddamn information I'm supposed to learn. I'm getting old, y'know."
"You're thirty-nine," Katzen said.
"Not much longer," Coffey said. "I was born forty years ago tomorrow."
Katzen grinned. "Well, happy birthday, counselor."
"Thanks," Coffey said, "but it won't be. Like I said, I'm getting old, Phil."
"Don't knock it," Katzen said. He pointed toward Sanliurfa. "When that place was young, forty was old. Back then most people lived to be about twenty. And not a healthy twenty at that. They were plagued by rotten teeth, broken bones, bad eyesight, athlete's foot, you-name-it. Hell, today the voting age in Turkey is twenty-one. Do you realize that ancient leaders in places like Uludere, Sirnak, and Batman couldn't even have voted for themselves?"
Coffey looked at him. "There's a place called Batman?"
"Right on the Tigris," Katzen said. "See? There's always something new to learn. I spent a couple hours this morning learning about the ROC. Helluva machine Matt and Mary Rose designed. Knowledge keeps you young, Lowell."
"Learning about Batman and the ROC aren't exactly things to live for," Coffey said. "And as far as your ancient Turks are concerned, with all the planting and sowing and irrigating and rock-hauling those people did, forty years old probably felt like eighty."
"True enough."
"And their life's work was probably the same job they'd been doing since they were ten," Coffey said. "Nowadays we're supposed to live longer and evolve, professionally."
"You trying to say you haven't?" Katzen asked.
"I've evolved like the dodo," Coffey said. "Stasis and then extinction. By this time in my life I always thought I'd be an international heavy hitter, working for the President and negotiating trade and peace accords."
"Ease up, Lowell " Katzen