When the scholar noticed that the man shadowing them was still waiting at the end of the street, he said they needed to wait until evening if they were to lose their trail.

Since Dr. Wickens met the scholar, he had been struck by how closely the cardinal resembled him in understanding and manner. Both emphasized the core principles of monotheism, and both were far removed from religious grandstanding, selling paradise, or promoting themselves.

There was, however, a historical truth unknown to the two guests and the scholar. Centuries earlier, in this very settlement—modern-day İznik—a council had been convened. Under the pressure of state power, the ambitions of those who wished to elevate their own name, and the opportunists who sought to wield sacred values as political weapons, the sincere believers had been defeated—or forced to appear defeated. To preserve their faith and their way of life, they had been compelled to hide from the oppressive regime.

Unable to call their persecutors “tyrants,” they referred to them as those who had succumbed to their own egos. To protect the trust of Jesus that beat in their hearts, they hid it from their fellow believers who had been misled by worldly power. They were like people who lived under the same roof but whose hearts beat for different loves. The hearts of those who held authority and enjoyed political power beat for gain, wealth, and rank, while the hearts of the others beat for love, devotion, and forgiveness for the deceived.

The sincere followers around Arius continued to carry the trust of Jesus through the ages.

History is full of curious coincidences. In this land where seeds of division were once sown, the seeds of unity and solidarity were now beginning to sprout. It cannot be said that the schemes of the mischief-makers—who wished to pit sincere believers against one another—had entirely failed. But now, only a few centuries before what one might call the final day of the world, the rivers of genuine spirituality, long separated, were at last on the verge of flowing into the same sea.

When the Turks came to Anatolia and became a dominant power, devout and sincere Christians were accused of being agents of the Muslims. Yet all they truly sought was to live by the teachings of the Messiah. Some of them migrated to Europe so as not to be branded traitors, while those who remained continued their existence among the Muslims.

Over time, those who stayed in Anatolia saw that there were no profound theological differences between themselves and the Muslims, and many embraced Islam—yet they never lost their love for the Messiah. They knew that this love was no obstacle to becoming Muslim; therefore, they never felt obliged to hide it. Still, they could not deny the discomfort they felt when confronted with the remarks of certain ignorant Muslims who belittled Christians and claimed they would be cast directly into Hell. As a reaction, for centuries they told their children that they differed from Muslims in some matters of belief.

After the Turks conquered Istanbul, the atmosphere of peace that emerged eventually dissolved their old sense of unity. The scholar’s grandfather had been the last member of this group in Anatolia. Raised upon the core principles of monotheism, the scholar earned the admiration of both the people and other Islamic theologians for the way he spoke of the Names and Attributes of the One God in a manner uniquely his own—never judging individuals or nations, but evaluating events through the lens of virtues.

The cardinal, on the other hand, came from the branch of this same lineage that had migrated to Europe. There, witnessing the dominant religious mindset of the region, they too chose to conceal their teachings.

Even after witnessing people executed, burned, or declared heretics in the Inquisition courts, the quiet reserve these believers had lived with gradually turned into deep fear. Still, to those who sincerely sought the truth and asked for it, they whispered that God is One, and that Jesus—peace be upon him—was, like the other prophets, a human being. Over time their connection with one another weakened. They did not isolate themselves from society, yet, just like their ancestors, they preferred secrecy to avoid being branded as traitors. It would remain so until the awaited Messiah descended to the earth once more.

Dr. Wickens glanced first at his companion, then at the scholar, and said:

“My friend told me about Mawlānā before we came here. When I looked into it a little, I realized this: according to your own sacred revelation—‘Allah is your Mawlā; what an excellent Mawlā, what an excellent Helper’ (8:40)—you have taken a word that describes God and used it as a title for a human being, Mawlānā. Yet Christians were accused of idolatry for using the term ‘Father’ for God, or for using it out of love for Jesus. In short, when your own people use a divine name for someone, it is acceptable, but when a Christian does it, he is called a disbeliever. Don’t you think this contradiction is unjust?”

“They are not the same,” the scholar replied with a gentle smile, then continued:

“Mawlā means friend, companion. It is a metaphor meant to express how deeply Mawlānā loved humanity, how boundless his affection was.”

“So are you saying Mawlānā loves people as much as God does? Is that what you mean? Could you not have chosen another title—another word—rather than one of the names of God?”

“I do not know the exact origin of this title,” the scholar replied, “It is a delicate matter, and I admit you are not entirely wrong. But I am also certain that those who use it do so without the intention of committing shirk.”

“And I am equally certain,” Dr. Wickens said, “that our people, too, have no intention of associating partners with God. Of course, I do not include in this group those who genuinely believe the Savior is literally God — that is an understanding inherited from the Sumerians onward. People call those who have shown them great kindness ‘father.’ And who has shown humanity a greater kindness than God? That is why we use the expression ‘God the Father.’ If we call Jesus by the name God — which is also one of the names you use for the Divine — that should not count as shirk according to your reasoning.”

“I trust,” the scholar said gently, “that those whose intentions are as you describe will meet us in Paradise.”
He stood up to refill their coffee, when the cardinal remarked to his companion:

“It seems you’ve already begun repeating to him the things I taught you.”

But Dr. Wickens was intent on pressing the scholar further:

“According to some people in these lands,” he said, “there is nothing but God. What does that even mean? Are you, me, all of us parts of God? Yet when some among us call Jesus ‘the Son of God,’ you label them heretics. Is that not a contradiction?”

The scholar answered calmly:
“My child, those who speak in that manner do so in order to annihilate their ego in the sight of Allah. They do not claim divinity, nor do they assert that they are a part of Allah.”

“And what guarantee is there,” Wickens asked, “that none among them will ever let their ego swell and utter blasphemous claims?”

“You are right,” the scholar said, “there is no such guarantee.”

The scholar suddenly stood up and glanced out the window; then he hurriedly pulled his head back inside.
“In the daytime there was only one man, but now I can see three of them—and one is pointing toward the back garden. My friends, we must leave at once. Their intention seems to be to raid the house and capture us! We can’t leave through the front door; they’ll see us!” he said.

The cardinal rose to his feet.
“Quick, put your coats on. We must leave through the back door before they make a move.”

After stepping out through the back, the scholar and his two guests climbed over the neighbor’s wall into his garden. Startled by the noise, the neighbor came outside, but the scholar signaled him to stay quiet. He whispered that the men from earlier had increased in number and that they had to escape immediately.

The quick-witted neighbor said he could get them out safely. He returned from his house carrying three large sheets.
“These will cover you completely. They’ll think you’re women, and you’ll be able to walk down the street without attracting attention.”

At that moment, the scholar too had become a target of the mystical order. What had once been two companions of fate had now become three. Unwittingly, the mystical order was doing the greatest kindness to those they considered enemies—they were putting them in a situation as dangerous as falling into a coma.

They had brought together the leading figures of the two largest monotheistic faiths on earth, along with the secret legacy of Newton—regarded as one of the greatest scientists in history.
In other words, if the world were imagined as a single human being, they had united its heart—the heavenly religions—with its mind—science. History had repeated itself; once again, the schemes of tyrants had backfired.

The companions of destiny hired a horse-drawn carriage, reached Istanbul, and from there crossed by boat to Heybeliada.

When the cardinal and Dr. Wickens met Noah, they learned that he served there as a religious instructor, teaching the Old and New Testaments, so they were certain he was a Christian. Thus, they felt no need to ask about his faith.
The scholar, however, understood that they had formed a mistaken impression of Noah, but he found it unnecessary to correct it.

In truth, Noah was one of the rare individuals of his age who knew—almost by heart—the scriptures and doctrines of all monotheistic and pagan traditions. He had spent years in the Vatican, Jerusalem, and Mecca. Like his friend, he emphasized not his formal identity as a Muslim but his devotion to the unity of God—a perspective required by his mission and vision.

Noah listened to the guests with exceptional patience, trying to piece their account together in his mind.

“There is an island,” he said, summarizing their words,
“where people live under oppression. Through a remarkable invention they have managed to send their voices to someone in Europe. Now they say their days are numbered, that the volcano may erupt at any moment, and they are begging for help.”

Then he looked at his guests and asked:

“So this is the essence of the matter, is that what you are telling me?”

The scholar looked at the cardinal and Dr. Wickens.
“I told you—don’t try to convince me, convince him,” he said. Then something occurred to him.

“You say the ancestors of those people sailed to that island centuries ago. Didn’t they have leaders of some sort? Perhaps their names appear on the artifacts that have been found.”

“Yes, he did mention two names,” Dr. Wickens replied, scratching his temple. “I remember now—one was Younus, the other was Yesra.”

Noah stepped in:
“You also said they fled from a tyrant. What was his name?”

“It was something that sounded Greek or Roman,” Wickens murmured, thinking. “Yes, yes—Tabyus.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t Patyus?” Noah asked calmly.

“Well… they’re very similar words. Yes, you’re right—Patyus must be the correct one.” Dr. Wickens continued:

“Near the time of the Messiah’s passing, they set out in two ships. One vessel reached its intended port and then continued on to somewhere near Rome. But the other ship vanished. I remember there were about three hundred people aboard.”

Noah nodded and said, “I believe you,” then began to speak:

“Before you arrived, I met with my friend, the archaeologist Mehmet. He had just returned from an excavation site. According to him, between Kütahya and Simav there may once have been an ancient city called Arizona. They found a new tablet, and it states that Arizona belonged to the city of Minyepolis; that a group of believers who refused to bow to the tyrant King Patyus and proclaimed the oneness of God fled the land in two ships; that news reached them from only one of the ships; and that the fate of the other was unknown, with nearly three hundred people recorded as missing.”

“But the place you’re talking about—Kütahya—has no sea.”

“Arizona, where the tablet was unearthed, is indeed in Kütahya. But they believe Minyepolis—the place where the real events took place—was somewhere near İzmir, around Ephesus. And if we consider that another tablet mentions the Seven Sleepers as being from Minyepolis, and that the characteristics of a cave near Ephesus match both our holy book and the tablet, then this theory makes perfect sense.”

The cardinal said, “If the tablets mention them, these people must have been significant.”
Noah replied:

“Not just significant—extraordinarily so. According to the archaeologist, this community, targeted by King Patyus and turned into enemies of the state, did more than cross into Europe by sea. Other tablets show that many more continued their migration over land.

“And the part that will interest you most is this:
It was these very people who sowed the seeds that eventually made Europe a land of monotheism. Because of the foundations they laid, despite facing great hardship, the disciples of the Messiah were able to teach the belief in one God—and they were at least partially successful.”

The cardinal responded with a gentle smile.
“So you mean we owe them a debt of gratitude. That we should at least honor the kindness their ancestors once showed us by protecting their descendants today.”

“Yes, you’re right. I am ready to set out,” Noah said, making his intention clear. Then he added,
“I almost forgot to mention something. Two men were caught trying to steal some tablets and artifacts from the excavation site. According to my investigator friend, when they realized they would be imprisoned, they confessed why they had attempted it. A man named Seth, from the Jewish community, had promised them a great deal of money. Yet somehow, the judge did not imprison them. Stranger still, according to what they said, Seth was looking for two foreigners staying in İznik.”

“We are those two foreigners,” said Dr. Wickens, his eyes filled with worry.
“So what must we do? How can we save the islanders—and ourselves—from death?”

Noah began listing the possible solutions.

“Appealing to the State-i Aliyye for help would scarcely work; even if we convinced them, after the Treaty of Karlowitz the Empire lost many territories, and they would not wish to risk another confrontation with the European powers. You say this island lies somewhere between the New World and the colonial routes. Even if a dozen ships were dispatched, they would not survive the crossfire. Besides, most of our fleet was burned—this dares not be forgotten.”

“Master Newton’s secret legacy forbids revealing his entrusted formulas to political rulers. It is obvious they would demand them. As you just mentioned, the qadi released the thieves for no just reason. These secrets could fall into the hands of the mystic order that has already infiltrated the state. Therefore, we must rule this option out entirely.”

Noah continued:

“Very well…” he said, presenting the second option.
“Where will we find enough money to acquire a ship strong enough to withstand the ocean and its towering waves? Suppose we do procure such a vessel—this mystic order’s pursuit of you all the way from Europe to here shows they will not relent. No matter how carefully we conceal it, they will learn of the great ship. At the first opportunity, they would massacre us and the crew without hesitation. And the open sea would offer them the perfect chance; no one would hear our cries.”

“Is there a third option?” the cardinal asked.

“Yes, it is,” Noah replied.
Then he began translating in his mind what the cardinal had said about the matter:

“ ‘Since they do not know the exact location of the island, let’s simply tell these lunatics where it is. Let them go and rescue the islanders themselves.’ ”

The cardinal shook his head firmly and intervened:

“ ‘The people on that island believe in the Creator. And their sacred text is most likely the oldest known scripture. Do you really think this mystic order—who bears hostility toward all divine religions—would allow any of them to leave alive? How would they manage to insert their mythological gods, their fabricated legends, their mystical doctrines into those scriptures? Their scheme would be exposed; they would be shooting themselves in the foot. They would never let the islanders survive.’ ”

The scholar rose to his feet and offered a proposal:

“ ‘I do not know how it might be done, but if we could place one trustworthy man among them—someone who could guide the islanders on how to act and what to say—he could ensure that they escape unharmed. After that, we would find a way to re-establish contact with them. If we are forced to attempt such a method, there is only one person we can rely on.’ ”

Everyone in the room turned their full attention to the scholar’s final sentence.
Who was this person?

“My old friend—the Chief Rabbi of Istanbul, Ariel”

Seeing their doubtful expressions, he continued in a confident voice:

“ ‘Trust him as much as you trust me!’ ”

Without wasting any time, the group set off.
The Chief Rabbi hosted them in a secluded place, away from wandering eyes. After listening, he said:

“ ‘Let me answer before you even ask: you have come here because of that far-off place—the Twin Island, haven’t you?’ ”

Everyone was stunned—how did the Chief Rabbi know this?

“It was Seth who told me. He even said they were tracking two foreigners in İznik.”

Seeing the looks on their faces—looks that clearly said:
“The Chief Rabbi must also be serving that mystic order; we should leave before we get into trouble!”—the scholar smiled gently and said:

“My friend, I know you well, but our companions do not. Would you care to explain? What connection do you have with Seth—the man who attempted to kill these two guests of ours?”

“He is from our community, and I am well aware of the dirty business he is involved in. I have told him many times to stay away from the teachings of Spinoza. People like Spinoza are, in the full sense of the word, murderers.”

“You may reject Spinoza’s ideas,” said Dr. Wickens, “but you cannot accuse him—or those who agree with him—of murder. The individuals we are talking about belong to a mystic order that worships stars and sacrifices humans in their name. These are entirely different matters.”

“Forgive my ignorance… Who is this Spinoza?” the scholar asked.

“His full name is Baruch Spinoza—one of the few Jews in the history of Judaism who were excommunicated and cursed,” said Noah, but when he noticed the Chief Rabbi giving him a sharp look, he immediately apologized and fell silent.

The Chief Rabbi spoke next:

“Mustached young man, allow me to describe my own man myself.”

Everyone chuckled, and the tension eased a little.

“At first, we did not take his ideas seriously; we assumed he was merely using such statements to draw attention. But he pushed even further, surrounding himself with strange companions. He began presenting gatherings filled with music, dancing, and singing as though they were acts of worship. Alongside his like-minded friends who opposed the Catholic Church, he opened houses for this purpose. Naturally, performing worship through dance and revelry appealed especially to our youth, and they began flocking to those places.”

“He even tried to infiltrate this deviant mindset into the church,” the cardinal interjected.

“But hymns are sung in churches, and I believe synagogues have them as well,” said Dr. Wickens, to which the chief rabbi responded:

“There is a world of difference between musical hymns sung to instill the love of God and a sense of piety, and songs that stir sensual desire. The former may certainly be performed in houses of worship; the latter, never! And if such behavior is presented as worship, that is nothing short of devilry.”

The scholar said,
“Calm yourself, my friend. Perhaps you should take back the word devilry?”
But the chief rabbi replied:

“You have yet to grasp how grave this danger truly is. Muslims do not see it, but this mentality is being pushed into your community as well. Soon enough, you too will see that I am right.”

The scholar did not entirely disagree with him, yet he believed such a mindset could never take root in a mosque. In his view, the mosque was threatened by different dangers altogether.

“We, too, must form an alliance and stop quarrelling among ourselves. Once we stand firm in defending the truths of faith, everyone is free to follow whichever rulings they choose regarding worship, what is lawful, and what is forbidden. This is not the birth of a single religion, but a united struggle against corruption while preserving the original teachings of the three divine faiths.”

After weighing the chief rabbi’s words, the scholar and the cardinal realized there was nothing in the proposal that contradicted their own beliefs. Even so, they knew they had to choose their words carefully; otherwise, troublemakers would seize any chance to provoke discord among them.

The heavy silence was broken by Dr. Wickens:

“Don’t misunderstand me, but our subject is neither Spinoza nor religion. Let us return to what truly matters—the island!” he said, before asking:

“What I don’t understand is why Seth is confiding in you about unlawful dealings.”

“The real reason is that he has fallen in love with my daughter and wishes to marry her. I told him I would only permit such a marriage if he kept away from these corrupt pursuits. Someone who never leaves his side reports to me, so I can see whether he heeds my warnings. He wavers at times, yes—but he cannot defy me.”

“So, he had us watched and even tried to steal the tablets. That means he isn’t listening to you.”

“No, you’re mistaken,” the chief rabbi replied, smiling faintly.
“I ordered all of it. My intention was to protect you with a deliberately failed abduction attempt. Besides, the ones who tried to steal the tablets were nothing more than two inept drunkards. If not Seth, that mystical order would simply hire someone else. At least this way, we maintain a kind of controlled damage.”

“So Seth is playing both sides! Are you sure he won’t betray us?”

The chief rabbi burst into laughter.
“Of course. Haven’t you ever been in love? There’s nothing a lover wouldn’t do.”

“But isn’t it wrong to involve your daughter in this?”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear the word ‘involve’. My daughter is madly in love with him as well.” He paused, then added:
“I can persuade him. He can go to the island as if he were one of their men.”

Remembering the scholar’s earlier suggestion, Noah put forth the final proposal:

“We’ll prepare a ship. Seth will be on board with the crew. He’ll inform the mystical order about this ship.”

“In other words, he will act as their insider while secretly aiding us. He will give them the dates when the ship will reach the island and when it will depart. Once we arrive, I will instruct the islanders on what to say and how to behave toward the order. Just as our ship is leaving the island with them on board, the order’s vessel will ambush us. We will act panicked, as though we were caught off guard, and Seth will ‘shoot’ me with his rifle—purely for show. Since I’m an excellent diver and swimmer, I can slip beneath the surface and get far from the ship unnoticed.”

“All right, you survive by falling into the sea as if you were killed. Even though the bullet won’t hit you, you’ll plunge into the water like a wounded man. The islanders will know exactly how to speak and behave, so they’ll be safe. But what about the crew? How will they escape?”

“You mentioned a cruel Lord on the island. Let the crew be ‘executed’ by the king—that’s what Seth will tell the mystical order. Meanwhile, the crew will wait for Noah at a prearranged spot in a small boat. They should take a few days’ worth of food and water; they’ll come across a merchant ship soon enough—or even row to the mainland if needed. Besides, the crew shouldn’t be too many in number anyway.”
The cardinal found this suggestion reasonable as well.

The scholar said, “İnşallah, our plan will work,” then lowered his gaze and added:

“But how are we going to pay for the ship, the provisions, the crew, and everything else? We don’t have enough money.”

The chief rabbi made a dismissive gesture with his hand:
“Don’t worry about that. Give me one day, and I’ll gather the money we need from the merchants in the Spice Bazaar.”

The scholar turned to the leader of the Jewish community.
“And what will you tell them?”

“You saved my ancestors from the massacres in Spain. You took them onto your ships and brought them here. This whole matter with the island reminds me of that escape centuries ago—and that memory is one of the reasons I want to do this for the sake of humanity. We received kindness and hospitality from the Ottomans, and we have lived here in peace ever since.”