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thing."

She sipped tea. The warmth felt welcome after the day's chill. And green tea
always felt nourishing to her somehow. Although in this case that mainly served
to remind her how famished she was.

"Although I guess I could be part Jewish," she added.

The truth was, she didn't know much about her lineage. Her parents had died
when she was very young, leaving her with no surviving family and little by way
of family records or possessions. None that had ever come Annja's way, in any
case.

"Please don't be put off by Charlie and Leif and their naive
enthusiasms," Leibowitz said. "They mean well, but—" He
shrugged. "I don't think they really understand the concept of
intellectual rigor."

"Probably not," Annja said. "It gets pretty annoying, sometimes,
when amateurs get out of their depth with the science, and start talking about
things they don't really understand."

He nodded vigorously. "That's so true. It's the same with
scholarship—especially ancient languages. And this whole Biblical-literalness
thing—" He had got himself worked up enough to be so flustered he couldn't
continue, but could only wag his head like a dog in denial.

He's definitely a nerd, she thought. Also a bit of a fanatic. But not the sort
of fanatic she'd been afraid he was at first. He was clearly fanatical on his
subject: ancient languages and cultures.

Not like that's a bad thing, she thought.

"So you were saying you don't believe in Biblical inerrancy."

"Oh, of course not, Ms. Creed. Stories such as the Garden of Eden and the
Flood are allegories . They were written by ancient mystics who never
intended for them to be taken as factual accounts. They convey profound truths
about humanity and its relationship to the Creator. And haven't fables always
been a powerful tool for teaching?"

"True enough."

"In any event, to talk about any kind of 'inerrancy' in the Bible, what
you call the Old Testament or New, or any ancient writings really, is just
absurd. Leaving aside the doubtful provenance of whole sections of the holy
books, they're filled with errors. I mean, what we'd call simple typos.
Remember they were copied out time and again by hand, not always by people who
were particularly literate in the character set they were using. Not always
literate at all, so far as we can tell—sometimes religious communities found
themselves so sorely pressed for one reason or another texts had to be copied
by artisans who basically reproduced the characters as images. Pictures, not
units of meaning. It's one reason the whole Bible Code concept is so unworkable
as well."

Annja nodded. Their soup arrived. It was topped with chopped cilantro and
finely sliced pickles. She tasted hers. The broth was hearty and cleverly
flavored with herbs.

"This is delicious."

He smiled. It obviously pleased him to please her. That could get to be a
problem, although he didn't seem the sort to push a schoolboy crush anyplace
unpleasant.

"Yet, despite all that you tell me, you still think it's worthwhile going
up that mountain?" she asked him.

"Oh, absolutely. You saw the artifacts they had?"

"Sure. And the documentation was in order. I'm not a carbon-14 dating
expert, but I know enough to recognize the numbers were all in the right
column. I don't have any reason to doubt the wood is as old as they say."

"So how did it get there, Ms. Creed?"

She tipped her head to the side. "Not by any flood, I'm pretty sure."

"Me, too."

"How, then?"

He laughed. "I don't know! But I want to find out."

Their food arrived. In his enthusiasm the rabbi fidgeted in his seat while the
waiter set down their dishes. Then he leaned forward over the table, oblivious
to the way the steam rising from his duck fogged his glasses.

"What I am sure of is that whatever's on top of the mountain—this
so-called Ararat Anomaly—is a human construct. It must be of inestimable historical
value."

She drew a deep breath, heavy with the fragrant steam. "You make a
compelling case, Rabbi," she