The Cairo Codex (24 page)

As they walked toward the back of the commanding structure, Justine saw that it was shaped like a giant, low-slung disc that sloped toward the Corniche, although the perspective from the ground was quite different than her view from the plane had been when she’d arrived in Egypt. From the air it looked flatter. A reflecting pool accompanied the library, buttressed by a running wall embossed with hieroglyphs. The building sat to the north of an enormous courtyard decorated discerningly with sculptures. To the southwest, a theater and planetarium faced the Corniche beyond. The complex formed a horseshoe enclosure finished with a tall building of classrooms and meeting halls directly across the courtyard to the west. On the exterior second floor, a long walkway connected the Bibliotheca with the planetarium, creating the illusion that it emptied into the sea beyond. Another second-floor walkway ran south across the street, joining the university to the library complex.

They had been told to enter through the second door to the right of the main entrance of the Bibliotheca. As they walked into a lobby of glass, tile, and steel not unlike the new De Young Museum in San Francisco, Dr. Al Rasul came toward them with a jaunty gait. “Dr. Andrea, I presume.” He bowed, shook her hand, and turned toward Justine. “And you must be Dr. Justine. I knew your father. A great man. How is Dr. Jenner?”

Before she could respond, Al Rasul led them into his office and introduced Mahmoud Hassan, a Jordanian paleographer. “Please forgive me,” the director said. “You were going to tell me about your father.” He waved the two women toward chairs near the desk.

“Yes. My father is in Peru at the moment, working just below Machu Picchu. He has reason to believe that there were developments—like suburbs—surrounding the main complex, which might contain a library.”

“A library! That old dog. Into the most fascinating ventures. As always, I envy him,” said Al Rasul resoundingly.

Justine laughed. “He does have a nose for intriguing finds. How do you know my father?”

The director turned to draw the others into the conversation. “Justine’s father has an uncanny way of discovering significant artifacts. A sixth sense. We worked together in the Valley of the Kings, and he uncovered a woman’s jaw that revealed evidence of early dental surgery. We also worked together for a short time at Saqqara. This was about ten years ago. Ah, but I’ve been remiss. Let me introduce my colleague properly. Dr. Mahmoud Hassan, renowned paleographer, will be with us for a year.” The young Jordanian sat quietly while the director continued to describe his credentials.

Hassan’s appearance was as unimpressive as his credentials were impressive. Of medium height and build, he wore a conservative suit of dark gray with a gray tie. His eyes were gray also, yet with an intense, searching expression that demanded a second glance.
Unremarkable, yet intriguing
, Justine thought.
I wonder why he would bury such inviting intensity in a mass of gray tones?

“We’ll order tea,” said Al Rasul as they took their places at the elegant ebony table.

“I’ve been here three months,” Dr. Hassan began by way of explaining himself. “Dr. Al Rasul has generously asked me to serve in residence. It may surprise you, but there are still a few fragments from the Nag Hammadi find that have defied identification. It is a joint project with Claremont College in California and the Coptic Museum. Being a part of this magnificent bibliotheca is an honor.”

“So, my lovely Cairene colleagues,” Al Rasul said, “tell us about this codex you found. Ibrahim told me very little. He was rather mysterious.”

Andrea turned to Justine. “Why don’t you start?”

“Perhaps I should begin with the day of the recent earthquake, April 12th. I’d been in Cairo for a couple of days when I decided to visit the old crypt under St. Sergius in Old Cairo.”

“The crypt where the Holy Family is supposed to have lived?” Al Rasul interrupted.

“The very one,” Justine said. “I’ve been fascinated by the crypt since my mother took me there many years ago. At any rate, I was in the crypt during the earthquake. The columns and many of the walls collapsed, the electricity went out, two-by-fours and plaster fell into the stairwell . . . I was trapped.” She strained to keep her voice steady as she shivered.

“That must have been terrifying,” said Dr. Hassan, his gray eyes softening.

Justine glanced at him with appreciation. “It was,” she said. “Thank you for your concern. As I began to crawl out of the crypt, I picked up the things that had fallen out of my bag. Although I didn’t know it at the time, I also picked up a small book that didn’t belong to me. I didn’t even realize I had it until the next day.”

“You found the codex in the crypt?” asked Al Rasul, eyes narrowing. He and Hassan glanced at each other, exchanging a knowing expression. “May we see it?”

Andrea unlocked her brown leather briefcase and handed the treasure, wrapped in fine linen, to Dr. Al Rasul. He began, almost in a whisper, “Ah . . . it is a codex. Indeed. What steps have you taken to find out what you have here?” He stroked the leather cover and handed it to Hassan.

Andrea explained, “Ibrahim El Shabry and I have begun to translate a few passages.”

“Any conclusions so far?” asked Al Rasul.

“The entries seem to be some kind of personal notes,” said Andrea. “It’s written in first person. The Egyptian museum staff has agreed to arrange for the carbon-14 and patina dating. Amir El Shabry intends to locate the area in the crypt where the codex may have been lodged.”

“Of course,” Justine added, “it may not have even come from the crypt.”

Al Rasul sipped his tea. “True. But for now, you want a paleographer to assess the codex. I believe you said you could leave it with us until Sunday, but such a short time will only serve to tantalize.”

“Tantalize enough for you to decide to work with us, perhaps.” Andrea tilted her head seductively.

“Fair enough,” agreed Al Rasul. “Hassan and I will remain in possession of the codex until Sunday, when you will return.” It was a statement rather than a question. “Now, a private guided tour of the Bibliotheca is in order.”

A young female guide led the two women into the great library. Within moments, their eyes were drawn to the interior of the breathtaking Alexandria Bibliotheca, eight layers of reading rooms cascading down the inside of the giant structure, which, from the outside, had the appearance of a flattened pyramid. The windows, designed like the huge almond eyes of an Egyptian princess, were slanted so that light was everywhere but never direct.

“The collection is already as big as the original one,” said the young guide in flawless English, “and we have an astounding goal of eight million documents. The composition of rich woods, glass, stainless steel, and marble were chosen to suggest the most elegant of international institutions without losing the sense of being truly Egyptian.” She tilted her chin slightly upward, her eyes embracing her guests and the vastness of the room.

The main reading rooms led outward through numerous hallways at the side of each floor. “This room, known as the Media Centre, contains thousands of films and videos. Here we have a little theater and listening rooms for smaller groups. Name any film and we can probably find it.” She smiled proudly, revealing perfect teeth, flattering her high cheekbones.

As the three women headed toward the ancient manuscript room, Andrea spoke to Justine in French. “I think that Al Rasul and Hassan will agree to help us, don’t you?”

“They’re obviously intrigued. They’ll work with us, unless they think the codex is too recent or forged.”

“I’m optimistic. And there’s another reason . . .” taunted Andrea.

Justine stared at Andrea, then turned to thank the young guide for the tour.

“What ‘other reason’?” demanded Justine as they walked toward the entrance.

“The Bibliotheca is new, and Al Rasul is fresh in his position; a major find could draw international attention to the library. That is, if he thinks it credible,” she said. “But for now I know a lovely beach with cabanas on the grounds of the Montazah palace.”

The weekend sped by, the two women taking delight in the past and present of Alexandria. Visits to the Catacombs and Fort Qaitbey, built on the tongue of land that once housed the Pharos Lighthouse, were punctuated by long walks along the Corniche, meals at the Fish Market, and morning coffees at the nearby Brazilian Coffee Store. Unlike the intimate souks of Cairo, the souks of Alex spread out along streets and alleys. Here they found loose blouses and colorful sandals.

On Sunday morning, Andrea and Justine made their way to Lawrence Durrell’s house at number 13 Sharia Maamoun. A disappointing, dilapidated building. Al Rasul called for a second time, asking to move back the time for their second meeting; with the morning free, they found time to savor the history of the great poet Constantine Cavafy, his home now a museum. Built on the edge of the Greek Diaspora and nestled between the red light district of Attarin, the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate, and a Greek hospital, Cavafy’s home was situated among what he had characterized as “Temples of the Flesh, the Soul, and the Body.” As they moved through the alleyways and shops of Alex, they explored each other’s lives, yet said little about the codex. Metaphorically, they held their breaths in anticipation of that afternoon’s consultation.

It was nearly 4 p.m. when Justine and Andrea re-entered the Centre. Both Amir and Nasser had called to remind them to get back to Cairo before dark. “The desert road is not safe after dark,” Amir had told Justine before they left, and the two women had promised to return to Cairo before sunset—but that wasn’t going to happen.

“Please sit down,” Dr. Al Rasul said solemnly when they entered his office. “We have much to talk about.” For over an hour, Dr. Hassan explained exactly how they had examined the codex, describing the patterns and forms of letters compared to different historical contexts, as well as the internal consistency among segments of the codex. “Such a cursory look tells us there are great similarities to the Dead Sea Scrolls and some of the Nag Hammadi papyri,” he said excitedly, although it was hardly his style to appear excited. “The internal consistency seems quite uniform, although the entries were clearly made over an extended period of time.”

“Like a personal journal.” Andrea smiled encouragingly.

The exchange of words around Justine faded into the background.
A personal journal
, she mused.
About the Holy Family? Yet there is no reason to believe that. The cave and the crypt have been used by every revealed religion for hundreds of years.

“I’m prepared to work with you in Cairo,” Al Rasul said, forcing Justine back into the conversation. He added cryptically, “That is, if we can solve the other mystery . . .”

“Another mystery?” Justine frowned. “Your voice suggests a discovery that may not be welcome.”

“A few pages are missing. Perhaps the first four or five. And there isn’t a title page. Of course, the author may have just begun writing without such a page. While we’re tempted to report that the pages could have been removed by the author, who, becoming dissatisfied with something he had written, decided to remove them, we don’t think so. The removal is skillful—and, we think, recent. Since it is a codex, the attached papyrus leaves have come loose, nearly falling out.” Al Rasul’s jaw firmed in dismay.

Andrea and Justine stared at each other in shocked silence. “We had no idea,” said Andrea, both astonished and embarrassed. “May I see the codex?” She handled it delicately. Examining only the first few pages, she placed the book back on the table, as though it had become overly warm to her skin. In spite of her newly acquired tan, her face was ashen. “Are you sure that the removals are recent?”

“If the pages had been removed long ago, the edges would have turned dark. As it is, the papyrus tone is unchanged. It’s a mystery that must be solved. But for the moment, it doesn’t diminish the promise of this find. It could be several thousand years old, but we’ll need to wait for the carbon-14 dating to confirm that. I’ll call Ibrahim and make the arrangements.”