“Amal?” Mustafa said. “What have you done?”

And Amal said: “That man tried to kill my son.”

Book Four

The Stone

THE LIBRARY OF ALEXANDRIA

A USER-EDITED REFERENCE SOURCE

Truther

A “Truther” is a skeptic who questions the official account of the events of November 9, 2001. Many Truthers belong to organizations such as the 11/9 Citizens Commission and Ulama for 11/9 Truth and Justice. They hold meetings and rallies, petition for the release of secret government documents, and use the Internet to publicize their alternative theories about the November 9 terror attacks.

Almost all Truthers believe that the UAS government has suppressed important information about what really happened on 11/9, though they disagree about the nature and extent of the cover-up. Some Truthers claim that the intelligence community knew about the hijackings in advance, and some go even farther, positing that government agents participated in the planning and execution of the attacks.

Suggested motives for such government involvement in 11/9 include:

· To justify massive increases in military and intelligence spending.

· To create a pretext for the

War on Terror

and the invasion of America.

· To undermine the popularity of the

Party of God

and the

House of Saud

by making them appear weak.

· To halt the “

secularization

” of Arabian society and frighten people into embracing a new

Islamic Awakening

.

Government officials have been generally dismissive of the Truthers’ claims, when they bother to acknowledge them at all. 11/9 Commission spokesman Mohammed Atta called theories of government involvement in the attacks “offensive,” adding: “There is no cover-up. No one denies that pre-11/9 anti-terror efforts were inadequate, but people need to accept that there’s no deeper mystery here . . .”

Regarding the suggestion that the 11/9 attacks were an attempt to literally “put the fear of God” into people, the President’s United Arab Fiqh Council has released a fatwa stating that the use of terrorism to spread belief in Islam would be a clear violation of God’s law, citing as evidence Holy Quran chapter 2, verse 256 (“Let there be no compulsion in religion . . .”) and chapter 5, verse 32 (“If any one slew a person—unless it be for murder or for spreading mischief in the land—it would be as if he slew the whole people”) and also chapter 6, verse 151 (“Take not life, which God hath made sacred, except by way of justice and law”). “While we obviously cannot say that no one in government would do such a terrible thing,” the Council concluded, “we can say that no true Muslim would.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, such statements have done little to dampen Truthers’ enthusiasm for their theories. They continue to seek “the reality behind the mirage.”

The crusader was staying on the ninth floor of the Zawra Park Hotel. His name was Joseph Simeon and he was the last surviving member of a five-man cell that had left Heidelberg two weeks ago.

Following a route common to both legal and illegal immigrants, the members of the cell had traveled by bus to Istanbul. There they’d met with a forger who was supposed to supply them with guest-worker ID cards and other documents, but when the cell leader insulted the man’s Orthodox faith and tried to convert him to a more proper form of Christianity, he threw them out of his house. They were forced to turn to another counterfeiter, who charged three times as much for inferior work.

In fact it was worse than they knew. This second forger, having determined the crusaders had no Arabic, decided to play a prank on them. The Roman-letter portion of Joe Simeon’s ID card gave his cover name as Thaddeus Schulman. But the accompanying Arabic text said he was Princess Jezebel and listed his occupation as “pole dancer.” The cell leader’s card identified him as a professional camel anus.

The crusaders continued on to Gaziantep, where they hired a guide to sneak them into the UAS. The guide got a look at their papers and realized they’d been taken for fools, but as they’d already managed to offend him too, he said nothing. He did what they paid him to do, smuggled them into Syria and delivered them to a workers’ hostel in Aleppo. The manager of the hostel was highly amused by something but wouldn’t share the joke.

ICE showed up in the middle of the night. Thirsty and unable to sleep, Joe Simeon had gone in search of a soda machine and wasn’t in the room when the immigration agents kicked the door in. He heard shouting and then gunshots, and ran off into the darkness clutching a bottle of orange Fanta.

He thought about going home, but he was almost out of money, so even if he’d made it back over the border he’d have been stranded in Turkey. He decided to continue on alone to Baghdad, where additional conspirators were supposedly waiting, though he didn’t know who they were or how to contact them. Praying to God for guidance, he went out to the highway and hitched a ride.

In Baghdad he found a cheap motel out by the airport. He was still using the Princess Jezebel ID, but the motel clerk, who’d lost a brother on 11/9, didn’t laugh or crack a smile. He gave the crusader a room key and called the Homeland Security tip line.

An hour and a half later Joe Simeon woke to find a large Arab standing over his bed. “Get up,” the man said. “The authorities are on their way to arrest you.”

“Who are you?”

“You may call me Siraj al Din. I am a friend.” He neglected to mention that he was a member of Al Qaeda and that he’d been sent here by Idris Abd al Qahhar.

Siraj al Din took Joe Simeon to the Zawra Park Hotel and got him another room. He told him to keep the DO NOT DISTURB sign on and the shades drawn. “Don’t go out. Don’t make any calls, not even to room service. I’ll be back later with food and fresh clothing.”

Joe Simeon crawled into the bed—much more comfortable than the one at the motel—and fell into a dead sleep. When he next opened his eyes, Siraj al Din was pushing a cart loaded with covered dishes into the room. “What time is it?”

“About eight o’clock in the evening. Come, eat something.”

After the meal, he took the bag of clothes Siraj al Din had brought for him and went to shower. When he came back out the cart was gone, and a cardboard shirt box and a street map were lying on the bed. “What’s that?” he said, nodding at the shirt box.

“First I must ask you, are you prepared to do what you came here to do?”

Joe Simeon had just been contemplating this very question. The answer seemed simple enough. By all rights he should be dead or in custody by now. That he wasn’t was all the proof he needed that God wanted him to proceed. He would do what he was told, and then he would go to heaven. “I’m ready.”

“Good,” Siraj al Din said, picking up the map. “Your target is the Ground Zero Mosque. The city is close to breaking ground on the project, and tomorrow afternoon there will be a rally at the site. A large crowd is expected, and many politicians. Also lots of security—but I’ll show you a path to bypass the outer ring of barricades and police. After that it’s up to you.”

“No,” Joe Simeon said. “After that it’s up to God.”

Mustafa spent the night in Karkh General Hospital, sleeping at his father’s bedside.