While he waited outside the Islamabad airport, Joseph enjoyed a cigarette. Henry Blake was due in soon. Paul was still at the hotel, talking on the phone with participants of the public seminar scheduled for later in the afternoon. Some of them were threatening to pull out, because of pressure they'd received after their names were published in the newspaper as speakers for the event. The authorities had given permission to hold the seminar but had contacted the news media and advised them not to cover it. Joseph knew that some of the reporters would show up, but none of them could guarantee that their articles would be published.

He stubbed out his cigarette on the sole of his sandal and looked for a trash can. Paul had seen him flick a cigarette butt onto the street a few days ago and had given him a lecture on how people had to learn to take care of the environment as well as struggle for their rights. Paul described how Gandhi initiated a "constructive program" among the Hindus in order to develop their discipline and self-respect, so they would be able to carry on a nonviolent campaign in their struggle for independence against the British.

Joseph resented the lecture at the time, but he knew it was good advice. Joseph wanted his rights, but he wasn't taking full responsibility for his own actions. Joseph respected Paul and had learned a lot from him. Paul was a good organizer. He knew how to get people to work together and how to resolve differences among them.

Joseph disagreed, however, with the attitude Paul had toward the Muslims. Joseph knew his Bible. Salvation was promised only to those who confessed their faith in Jesus Christ. "I am the way, the truth, and the life," Jesus said. "No one comes to the Father except by me." The Jews had rejected Jesus, and so they were outside God's salvation. The Muslims accepted Jesus as a prophet, but they revered Muhammad as the final prophet, the "seal of the prophets," as they put it, and saw the Qur'an as the decisive word of God, rather than the Bible. They, too, would not be saved on the Day of Judgement.

Joseph knew that Muslims believed in a day of Judgement, just like Christians, but Muslims believed that only Muslims would be saved on that day. Paul thought that all the faithful would be saved, whether they were Jews or Christians or Muslims. He said being faithful was a matter of keeping the two great commandments. Joseph recalled the story in Luke's gospel where a lawyer had asked Jesus, "What shall I do to inherit eternal life?" When Jesus answered by asking the lawyer what was in the scriptures, the lawyer replied: "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself."

Joseph remembered the text, Luke 10:27, because in school they had to memorize it. He recalled being surprised that Jesus had asked the lawyer for his understanding of the law, rather than just telling him what God wanted. Paul said this shows that each of us must come to our own understanding of scripture. In Luke's version, the lawyer quoted from Deuteronomy and from another book of the Old Testament, but Joseph couldn't recall which one. Jesus had said the lawyer was right, but Jesus added: "Do this, and you will live." Jesus had emphasized doing the law, not just knowing it. That's why Paul said that all those who love God and their neighbors would be saved, no matter what their religion is.

But if that was so, what was the point of being a Christian? Joseph cleared his throat and spit to the side. Even in Islamabad the air pollution was so bad that your throat felt thick all the time. When he was young, Joseph had been a very devote Christian. He'd also been a good student, and he loved his mother who was very religious. But after the Bishop had shamed him in front of his class for the way he'd read from the Bible, he stopped going to Mass. Why should he be a good Christian, if the Church was led by people like the Bishop?

His father had always had that attitude about the Church. A bunch of hypocrites, he'd say. But Joseph had grown to hate his father. When his father was drunk, he'd beat up Joseph's mother. He could still hear her screams as his father hit her again and again. When he was about 8, he'd jumped on his father's back and tried to pull him off. Then his father beat him senseless. But seven or eight years later, he was as big as his father. Then he'd hit his father in the face until his father's nose was smashed in and blood was running down his chin. His father had left the house that night and never returned.

At first his mother had been angry with him for beating up his father, and she had told him to pray to God for forgiveness. But he couldn't. His hatred for his father still burned inside him. It had felt good to smash his fists into his father's fat face. He'd do it again, if he had the chance.

Joseph glanced at his watch. Blake should be here by now. People were milling around in front of the airport, watching the exit for their relatives or friends to come out. Taxi drivers surrounded the exit, hoping to get a fare. Young boys jumped forward to help passengers with their luggage. When a foreigner walked out, there was a rush to get to him. Joseph knew that a foreigner might be asked for 50 or even 100 Rupees, just for having his luggage cart pushed to a taxi and his bags loaded in the trunk. With a Pakistani traveler, however, the tip was likely to be no more than 5 Rupees.

Joseph had a sign with "Blake" written on it that he would lift up as soon as he saw the American come through the door. He wanted Blake to know someone was there to help him through the crowd. It must be a bit intimidating, Joseph thought, for a foreigner to come out of the airport into this crush of people-all trying to get something from him.

Joseph lit another cigarette. He couldn't understand how Paul could give up smoking. He liked the feel of a warm cigarette between his fingers and the taste of the smoke as he exhaled. Joseph inhaled again. He enjoyed being with Paul though, even if he didn't always agree with him. Paul treated him like an equal, not like a bodyguard. And Paul talked with him about all kinds of things. It was as though Paul was lonely and needed someone to talk to. Most of the time, Joseph just listened. But sometimes he argued, if he disagreed strongly, as he had when Paul had said that God loved Muslims as much as he loved Christians, because all people were created in the image of God.

A white face appeared in the exit door. It was Blake, so Joseph hoisted his sign. Raising his cigarette above his head so he wouldn't burn anyone, Joseph began to push his way forward. He reached Blake just as a taxi driver was trying to take Blake's bag from his hand. Stepping in front of the man, he quickly seized the handle of Blake's bag and began to escort him toward the taxi stand. Once others saw that Joseph was tending Blake, they let him be and turned their attention back to the exit door.

"I'm Joseph," he said to Blake in English, raising his voice to be heard above the noise of the crowd and the traffic in front of the airport. "Paul sent me to meet you."

"It was good to see a sign with my name on it," Blake responded, as they walked briskly side by side. They were about the same height, but Joseph was a good deal heavier. "I'm sorry that the plane was late," Blake said.

Joseph looked again at his watch. "We've got time."

Joseph led Blake to a black and yellow taxi and, opening the front door, motioned for him to get in. The driver got out, opened the trunk, and Joseph carefully stowed the bag. Then he got in the backseat behind the driver.

As they pulled away from the airport, Joseph leaned forward and said, "Paul is busy getting ready for the meeting. He asked me to take care of you for awhile."

Blake nodded. Then he said, "Is everything OK?"

"I think so," Joseph replied. "The Supreme Court has granted the injunction, so we can go ahead without worrying about any arrests under 295 (c)." After a moment he asked, "Is there anything in particular you'd like to see in Islamabad? We have more than an hour before we need to be at the hotel."

Blake thought for a moment before answering. "Javed was telling me about a beautiful new mosque in Islamabad. Would it be possible to go to see it?"

Joseph felt his anger rising. He had thought Blake would want to drive to the overlook where you could see the whole city or maybe visit the old cathedral downtown, which was a replica of a cathedral in England. But a mosque!

"We can't go into a mosque," Joseph said, his voice becoming surly.

"I know," Blake replied, seeming not to notice, "but Javed said we could walk around it. He says it's really beautiful."

Joseph knew the mosque. It had been built with Arab money near the university on the edge of Islamabad. He spoke to the driver and after about ten minutes they saw it reaching up to the sky with its white minarets standing out against the green hills behind it. The taxi pulled into the parking lot, and Blake and Joseph walked to the reception area. They had to take their shoes off and leave them there. The marble cooled his bare feet, as Joseph led Blake up the steps to the entrance to the mosque.

They gazed silently into the great marble hall. It was unadorned and, Joseph had to admit, very beautiful. He could understand why Muslims would want to worship God in such a place. Light entered the hall from two narrow windows on either side. The ceiling was held up by pillars that were evenly spaced throughout the hall. The ceiling was not as high as most large churches, but high enough to give the feeling of spaciousness. The marble floor was covered with rich, embroidered carpets. A couple of men were sitting on their knees in the hall, facing the front, meditating or praying in silence.

Joseph and Blake were silent walking back to where they had left their shoes. Blake wanted to enter the small shop that stood just inside the entrance in order to look more closely at the prayer beads, books and bottles of holy water for sale. So Joseph waited impatiently outside, until Blake came out. Then they collected their shoes and walked quickly to the waiting taxi.

Heading into the city, Blake turned in his seat and asked Joseph, "Will Samuel be here?"

"No," Joseph said. "He stayed in Karachi."

"Too bad. I wanted to talk with him," Blake said, as he turned his head back towards the front.

I wish Samuel were here, Joseph thought. Samuel was like a grandfather to him. He'd started running errands for Samuel when he was five years old. Often he'd spent the night at Samuel's house, sleeping with his children, four or five of them piled in a bed. Joseph had tried to avoid his own home as much as he could, and Samuel and his wife seemed to understand. They always welcomed him and never sent him home.

After the Bishop scolded him in school, Joseph had become sullen. Samuel noticed the difference right away and began to invite Joseph to go with him to some of the meetings of the elders, to take notes and later to write letters for him. Joseph had thrown himself into his secretarial duties, making sure his spelling and grammar were correct. And Samuel had praised him for his help. He might have dropped out of school, Joseph thought, if it hadn't been for Samuel.

As the taxi pulled into the Holiday Inn, Joseph scanned the cars parked in front. He was not only assigned to bring Blake to the hotel but to make sure he was safe. Joseph was looking for cars with several men sitting in them, or for old vehicles that were empty. He figured their enemies wouldn't plant a bomb in a new car. But all he saw were several taxis, and each of them had only a driver sitting inside.

When Joseph was convinced that it was safe, he paid the driver and led Blake into the hotel. The seminar was scheduled to start in twenty minutes. Paul had told him to bring Blake into the coffee shop, if they arrived early.

He saw Javed and Paul sitting at a table near the window. Glancing around the room he didn't see any of their security people. That's stupid! To his right, three men were drinking coffee quietly, but Joseph didn't recognize any of them. He hurried over to the table with Blake, wishing Samuel were here.