Khan had come to the research laboratory almost by happenstance, at the suggestion of a former classmate, after completing his doctorate at the Catholic University of Leuven, in Belgium. He was interested in any company that required a specialist in the analysis and development of exotic metal alloys. The place where he landed, however, was not just any company. FDO was the year-old in-house laboratory of Verenidge Machine Fabrieken, a major Dutch conglomerate, which worked closely with Urenco, a consortium formed by the governments of Britain, West Germany, and the Netherlands, in the design and manufacture of centrifuges to be used in nuclear power plants.

The key to the enrichment process is the ultracentrifuge, a sophisticated machine that spins uranium gas into an enriched version of the element. The centrifuges under development by Urenco were intended to manufacture fuel for a nuclear-power program that was to generate electricity for the three sponsor countries. The work was highly classified, because the same process could be used to produce fissile material for nuclear weapons.

As Veerman recalls, a friendship quickly developed between the lonely Dutch photographer and the newly arrived foreigner. During that first summer, they spent their lunch hours wandering along the canals, eyeing the scantily clad young women who thronged the city’s sidewalks and perched on its bridges. Amsterdam was probably the most dramatic contrast one could find to the modest Islamic society in which Khan had grown up. He was not prepared for the culture of legalized marijuana and prostitution that marked Amsterdam in those years as the hottest, hippest corner of Europe. The contrast seemed to enthrall him, and though Khan was recently married, he was intrigued by the confident young women. Sometimes, during their lunchtime strolls, Veerman watched with concern as Khan followed a young woman for blocks on end. Even though Khan always kept a distance, Veerman recalled that he worried the Pakistani’s fascination would one day land him in an embarrassing confrontation.

Their weekend jaunts were less eventful: The two men rode bicycles through the lush Dutch countryside, threading their way through the lacework of canals, stopping for cheese and drinks at small cafés along the way. Veerman understood Khan’s polite refusal to drink alcohol or smoke but was surprised that he never brought his wife, Henny, along. The truth was that while Khan had lived in Europe for a decade and had been drawn to the life of Amsterdam’s streets, he had not escaped the religious and cultural constraints of his homeland and his upbringing.

Khan was born to a Muslim family on April 27, 1936, in Bhopal, British India. Half a century later, the city became known for the 18,000 deaths caused by an accident at a Union Carbide insecticide plant. When Khan was born, however, Bhopal was a peaceful place shared by Hindus and Muslims, who had lived side by side for centuries. Khan was one of seven children. His father, Abdul Ghafoor Khan, had been a teacher in the central provinces of India. He retired the year before Khan’s birth, devoting his energy to working with the All India Muslim League, which began as a political party in British India to protect the rights of Muslims. The organization later became the driving force in the creation of Pakistan as a separate Muslim state. Throughout his life, Khan modeled himself on his father’s humility and politeness. Like his father, he rarely raised his voice and often referred to himself as a man of peace, recalling that his father had stopped him from shooting birds when he was a young boy and instilled in him a reverence for life. But the son also inherited the father’s fervor for an Islamic state and his hatred of India.

Khan was considered a good, though not exceptional, student, and he often seemed more interested in fishing and playing field hockey with his friends than in studying. He was more disciplined when it came to religion, attending prayers regularly at the neighborhood mosque with his father and four brothers. His favorite books were histories of the Muslim heroes who had created the Mogul Empire, gaining control over South Asia by vanquishing infidels in the 16th century. Eventually the Moguls were defeated by the British in the 19th century, instantly transforming India’s Muslim rulers into a powerless minority.