"Put this on."

Malik holds the device between his fingers, watching as Rebecca pantomimes the motions of putting in his ear. He doesn't need to say anything to convey his skepticism, the frown and raised eyebrows being clear enough. Clicking her tongue impatiently, Rebecca takes the device from him and carefully hooks it over his right ear.

"Don't panic. You should be hearing things from the earpiece," Rebecca explains and, a second later, her voice buzzes in his ear, repeating the same thing in Arabic. "Is it working?"

Trying not to let his discomfort show too much, he nods. "Am I allowed to take it off?"

Rebecca grins. "Anytime you want, but it helps to have it on if you want something when Desmond's in the Animus." Pointing to her own earpiece, she explains, "It'll allow us to understand what we're saying to each other."

Shaun makes a quiet noise of surprise from his desk. "How did you even manage to rig these up so fast? Were you expecting some Syrian guy from a thousand years ago to just magically appear today? It would explain how you seem to already have these on hand."

"There's a time-traveling joke I can make, I just know it," Rebecca says, earning eyerolls from Shaun and Lucy. She smirks, evidently proud of her handiwork. "I took the language program from when Desmond was A- ah, at Abstergo and connected to our headsets. It's the same program we use for Baby, only we're using it for real instead of inside Desmond's head. It's not perfect, but it'll do."

For something that isn't perfect, Malik is nevertheless impressed. After exchanging a few more impressionable words with both Lucy and Shaun, he notices the slight delay with the translations, resulting in an odd, desynchronized run of double voices from whoever is speaking. It's jarring enough to make him maintain his silence for a while, but the growing curiosity for this era is overwhelming.

So with the barrier of language removed, he spends the next few minutes inquiring about Desmond and the Animus. The younger man is lying comatose in the red chair, unmoving and silent, though Malik can see Desmond tense and relax every so often. Judging from the way everyone is monitoring him, Malik guesses this isn't a common practice.

"Basically, the machine allows Desmond to relive the memories of his ancestors. That's how we plan to find the Apple," Rebecca explains. "Right now we're looking through Ezio's memories — he the Grandmaster of the Order in Rome about five hundred years ago."

Her tone is genial, but somewhat distracted, and Malik easily recognizes it as someone who is focusing on other things. He refrains from asking any more questions, and instead takes the initiative to look around the chamber for himself. Shaun's work area catches his eye first; Malik doubts he'll be able to understand the machines the others are working on, and in the midst of all this advance technology, a simple map tacked to a wall of papers and pictures is a welcome sight.

As he walks over to the makeshift wall, Shaun glances at him, but doesn't say anything. Taking it as a sign that he's allowed to look, Malik studies the maps, surprised to find that the concept hasn't changed much. There are a few places he's even familiar with – the European and the Eastern lands—but one sheet in particular makes him pause.

"Is this the map of the world?" Malik asks, pointing. "How accurate is it?"

Shaun does not bother turning away from his work, though his brow furrows as he clicks away on one of his devices. "I don't think I should tell you. It'll be about another hundred years for you before a barely decent world map comes along, but since you sound pretty sure of yourself; yes, it is. And it'svery accurate."

Malik runs his finger down the parallel lines and coordinate grids, careful not to disturb the marked places. "Another hundred years?" he muses. He steps back, shaking his head in disbelief. "Is that what the history books say?"

The clicking stops and Shaun throws him a sharp look. He leans forward in his chair, and Malik can see that the man has the genuine interest of a historian. "Maybe you ought to correct me then," Shaun suggests.

Malik smirks. "I don't think I should tell you."

"Don't be coy," Shaun sniffs, returning to his work and leaving Malik on his own once more. "When I'm done, expect some questions."