Fleming followed the direction of Abu's glance. The rock face bore traces of enormous bas-reliefs - formalised animals and serried ranks of bearded warriors. None was perfect, rock falls jagging into the sculpture.
'Persian,' Abu explained. 'English archaeologists were here many years ago; more recently the Americans. All have gone now, of course. What they were really interested in was the temple. You'll see it round the next bend.'
Dwarfed by the rock face, the temple was just a ruin, a few pillars still standing amid a mass of rubble. Abu said that the pillars were Roman, but the site had yielded remains of several civilisations and religions - Assyrian, Persian, and a few tablets of Egyptian origin. 'As you know, Azaran has been a vassal of many empires,' Abu said. 'Now of none!'
He bumped off the track and down what was little more than a donkey path. His wife was standing outside the tiny house, a pretty woman, little more than a girl. Although, she wore Arab costume she was unveiled.
She lowered her eyes when Abu introduced Fleming, but her welcome was warm, and in perfect English. 'Lemka was at Cairo University, among the first girl students under Colonel Nasser's new scheme,' Abu said proudly.
'You are hot,' Lemka said to Fleming. 'Please come inside out of the terrible wind. It is cooler. Perhaps you will have some of our wine.' She glanced towards the car and saw the soldier leaning against the shady side of the vehicle.
'What is the man doing?' she asked, clutching her husband's arm. 'You are now under guard?'
'He is an escort for Dr Fleming,' Abu told her, but she was not completely satisfied.
'There is much trouble in the city?' she asked. 'On the radio they say so little. Just that the coup is over and all is peace again. Is it so?'
'Yes,' Abu said. 'Everything is normal. Now get us something to drink and then see about a meal. I have told my friend he will have to take what the English call pot luck.'
Lemka passed through the curtained opening to the tiny kitchen at the rear.
'My wife is Christian,' Abu said; 'that is why she is not so effacing as most Arab wives.'
'But you are Moslem?' Fleming asked. 'Yours is a Moslem name.'
'I'm a scientist,' he retorted. 'And I am also for my country.'
Fleming eased himself down on the low backless settee.
'And I'm for the whole human race - more or less. Look, Abu, you didn't believe me about the computer, did you? Well, now believe me about the girl.'
Lemka returned with a jug of wine and some glasses. She poured some out and handed a glass to Fleming. The wine was sweet and thin, but refreshing.
'It's a pretty simple set-up,' Fleming began, not caring that Lemka was listening. 'Intel built the computer and employed you to help operate it. As you know, after Neilson got away it wouldn't work, so they hi-jacked me and I brought the girl. Intel's aim was to get a technical edge on all their competitors and a well-protected base from which to operate. Hence the missile designs you've been working on. Your President was agreeable to the arrangements. This suited the intelligence behind the computer. But it didn't suit Salim. He was an intelligent and ambitious man. He wanted to have absolute control of the whole setup.'
'He was a patriot,' said Abu defiantly.
Fleming shrugged. 'He certainly wasn't a man to play second fiddle to another influence. Andromeda knew it, or at least she learned it from the computer which could calculate such an eventuality. So Andre made the decision: to put the power into the hands of Intel, in fact. Our handsome boss was shown the message, or part of it, and had the meaning of it explained to her by Andre the night they were together in the computer.'
'And that could influence her?' Abu was doubtful.
'Influence her?' Fleming retorted. 'Obsess her completely.
She had Salim killed or probably shot him herself. She's a convert who suddenly saw a vision. It made her fanatical.'
'Like St Paul?'
Both men started. They had forgotten Lemka. 'But how could a vision be put into words?' she asked.
'St Paul managed it,' Fleming suggested.
'He only described it in your Bible,' Abu said. 'He couldn't pass it on as he really knew it.'
'You're right,' Fleming agreed. 'You can't pass such things on, but you can impose them. That was the intention of the computer, then of Andromeda, and now of Gamboul.
You can also describe the inferences. I myself have had a glimpse of that description.'
Abu thoughtfully examined his empty glass. 'You believe what you say? How would you describe this vision?'
'It says that mankind goes round by a long road, and it may be too long. We may destroy ourselves before we take the next step.'
'But if we can have the help of a higher intelligence and avoid that mistake? Abu protested.
'It's the handshake of death. The friend who knows better than you what's good for you.' Fleming pointed towards the tiny window, at the vista of desert they had crossed in the car.
'You've heard of the Pax Romana,' he said, 'the calm of desolation the Roman legions left after they had forced their idea of right on the barbarians. That's the sort of peace you're working for, Abu my friend. Personally I'd rather we muddled our way along.'
'And destroy ourselves?'
'No!' Fleming shouted. 'If anything destroys us it will be something sent from outside. Via the computer.'
'You have no proof,' said Abu obstinately.
Lemka looked from one man to the other. 'You should know when a man is right,' she told her husband. 'And help him.'
Abu glared at her but she held his gaze, and slowly he smiled. Awkwardly he slid his hand into hers. 'I will try,' he said quietly. He turned to Fleming. 'On Monday, Doctor, I will seek an interview with M'mselle Gamboul.'
Fleming thanked him, doubting whether this futile little manoeuvre would make any difference. With an effort he stirred himself. 'Fine,' he said. 'We'll work out the sort of thing to say, to appeal to her conscience, if any. But all this is unfair on your wife. It's the weekend.'
The friendship between the two men grew warmer in the few hours away from the strain of the Intel establishment.
Abu took Fleming exploring among the temple ruins on the Sunday morning. They had to cut the visit short because the wind was much stronger than on the previous day, bringing small but dangerous cascades of stones and rocks from the precipitous heights behind the temple. Fleming explained Dawnay's and his theory about the origin of the abnormal weather. Abu could accept this because he had seen some of the results of the computer's calculations on the sea water bacteria. He promised to try to explain it to Gamboul.
The two men and the guard drove back to the station at dawn on Monday, choosing an early start because they had already learned that sunrise and sunset brought a short period of calm. As they zig-zagged down the mountainside towards the plain they heard a roaring in the distance and saw a sudden rush of flame up into the sky.
Abu applied for an interview with Gamboul as soon as he went on duty. He was told to report to the executive suite at 11.
She greeted him almost effusively. 'Well, Dr Zeki,' she said. 'You'll be the first here to know that this morning we tested the missile prototype. It was a complete success. We are now as good as Britain in that field.' She smiled expectantly.
'And you have other good things on the way for us?'
'Yes, Mm'selle,' he said. 'But I wish to ask your permission to speak on another matter.'
'What is it you want?' she asked, her friendliness vanished, quickly replaced by suspicion.
'I come on behalf of Dr Fleming. He thinks that the weather conditions in Europe and America, and even here, arise in some way from the computer. From the message.' He stopped, momentarily intimidated by her look of implacable hostility. 'Dr Fleming would like permission for Professor Dawnay to contact the International Weather Bureau.'
