Safari Chapter 5 - The House of the Fella

Chapter 5 - The House of the Fella

3700 BCE - Khonsu Shipping Office

Naram risked a glance out the window of the small business office. It had been over three hours since the screaming had started outside, and things hadn't gotten any better. The Badi invaders had broken down the door of the next building, dragging the bodies of the occupants out into the street. He and Siin were fortunate that they had already deactivated the suntubes and shuttered the windows, preparing to leave for the evening. As long as they stayed still and quiet, they might stay alive. He carefully drew back from the window and shook his head at the other clerk.

"We can't just sit here and hide forever, Naram. Eventually those barbarians will start searching the buildings, for food, if nothing else. The longer we wait, the more likely it is that we'll get caught. I don't want to die in this Sokar-forsaken little mailroom...I say we get out of here and head West!"

"If we try to leave right now, "travel to the West" is exactly what we WILL do. Look for yourself."

The younger man put his eye to the gap in the shutter. In the distance, triumphant shouts rang out as another group of defenders was overrun and massacred, the shrill whine of their heat weapons falling silent. He jerked back with a gasp as the door shook from a heavy blow. Shouting, then another blow.

"Siin, you idiot!" Both men cast about desperately for a weapon, a place to hide, something, anything...

Naram's hand landed on a Ba Block. Not much, but it was something. He hefted the brick-shaped device, ready to strike.

The door collapsed...

~~~

AP braced himself against the back of the narrow shaft, carefully picking his way down the rickety ladder. The smell of dry clay made him want to sneeze, but he suppressed it. The shaft was suddenly lit from below.

"You stuck up there, AP?"

"I could be down REALLY FAST if it makes you feel better, Gene, but you'd probably have to haul me back up on a stretcher." He resumed his cautious descent, the ladder creaking ominously. Reaching the bottom, he crawled over to join Jo and her father, avoiding the grid of strings dividing the space into sections.

Jo was crouching next to a partially unearthed assortment of bones. Far from being a frightening sight, it was almost pathetic. A brick-shaped object lay among the ancient remains. A man was next to her, methodically brushing stale dust from the bones. Jo had put on a pair of light cotton gloves and was selecting a pick to work with.

AP shifted, trying to see around the archaeologists. "Was this a grave with two people in it? It doesn't look right somehow. Can you tell if they were men or women?"

"Bassem here says this isn't a grave, but he's not sure what it is." Jo removed a small clump of dirt, freeing the end of a tibia. "They can't determine the gender until the bones are measured...pelvis width, skull shape, that sort of thing." Bassem carefully removed the brick from the jumble and laid it in Jo's gloved hand.

A metallic glint caught her eye, and she picked up a brush to remove the caked dirt. She was surprised when the dirt flaked off easily, revealing a glazed surface painted with hieroglyphs. A pair of Eyes of Horus adorned one side, close to the end. "It looks like a small coffin of the pre-mummiform style. For an ushabti, maybe?" She handed the object to her father, who held it close to the lantern for a better look.

"Idha ila la'ito!" Bassem had found something else underneath the bones and after more than an hour of careful work, he and Jo were at last able to free it from the debris. With the dried mud removed and brought into the light, it appeared to be a piece of a small stela, a small plaque with designs carved on the stone surface. Above the broken edge, the head of a falcon and some hieroglyphs were visible.

"A falcon...that's the god Horus, right?" AP pointed at the bird.

Jo borrowed a magnifying glass from Bassem. "Horus is a solar deity. If you look closer, you can see this figure is wearing the crescent and full moon headdress. It looks like an early form of Khonsu, The Wanderer."

~~~

Late that night, Jo gave up trying to fall asleep. She sat at the desk in her room and continued cleaning the brick-shaped object from the excavation. As she worked, she got the impression of something within slumbering, beginning to stir. This wasn't unusual with artifacts; sometimes one came up from a dig that the ancient priests had prepared as a vessel for a spirit, and once in a while, the spirit was still using it. Jo's training at the temple in Dendera had attuned her senses to vessels prepared in this way and taught her how to handle them. She brushed a strand of dark hair from her face and concentrated on the eyes painted on the object. "Is anyone in there? Hnw siiz?"

She got the distinct impression that someone looked out at her for a moment, then went back to sleep. Maybe she should get some sleep herself. They would have a long trip out to AP's temple tomorrow.

~~~

Hammer swore under his breath, as his ladder almost caught a wire. It was almost impossible to see in the darkness, and the borrowed kafiyya kept slipping over his eyes. How did the natives keep the damn things wrapped? After tipping the ladder to the side, he managed to quietly lean it against the house, just below a dark second-story window.

A quick glance up and down the street - still empty! - he began his ascent. The galabaya kept tangling his feet, threatening a quick trip to the street below. He savagely suppressed the impulse to sneeze. Didn't his servant ever wash the god-awful thing? These people had no sense of hygiene.

When he reached the window he discovered that a fretwork screen was set into the windowsill, barring his way. After working his fingers into the holes, he carefully tried to lift it, but it wouldn't move. How did these things work again? Oh, right...slide straight in. He gave a gentle push, but it still didn't budge. Frustrated, he heaved at the barrier, and for one sickening moment, the man hung between the swaying ladder and the screen, whimpering as the fretwork bit into his fingers.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, he gently brought the ladder back against the wall. The screen was now almost beyond the frame. Several light taps and it released. He was in.

A man was sleeping peacefully in the bed. As Hammer tried to extricate his fingers from the screen, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. There was something else in the room. In an instant that seemed like a thousand years, he turned to face an enormous cobra statue, its eyes glowing as it slithered closer, rearing to strike. It shouldn't be moving, his terrified brain cried, it's made of stone, for God's sake. The cobra spat, and the intruder instinctively held up the screen as a shield. He wrenched his fingers free and fled before the snake could strike again. Just as he reached the window, the man in the bed sat up, but Hammer was out and stumbling down the ladder before an alarm could be raised. He swore as he ran, his right arm burning where a drop of the cobra's venom had fallen.

In the room vacated by the would-be thief, AP gazed at the cobra statue. In his groggy state, he was vaguely aware of it as a security device. Not knowing what more he could do about it, he fell asleep again. In his dreams, a golden mongoose crawled through the open window, crouching to meet the cobra's attack. A voice said "He went swimming in the river..."

AP suddenly bolted out of bed, now fully awake. The screen lay on the floor where the intruder had left it...that hadn't been a dream. The mongoose! If someone knows about a security device, they can counter it! He threw on his robe and ran from the room to alert the household.

Safari Chapter 4 - The House of the Priestess

Chapter 4 - The House of the Priestess

"Good morning, Jo!" Hearing the voice of her friend, Jo looked up from her breakfast in the courtyard of the house. A servant appeared around a screen of potted fig trees, followed by a rather sleepy-looking AP. "Were you up as late as I was? Boy, your cousin Saadi can certainly play the oud."

She laughed. "I knew you would be playing until sunrise. Here's a pot of tea for you. And I thought you would like ful medames; it’s a traditional Egyptian breakfast, and vegetarian, too." The young woman took another bite of hummus.

"Thanks; just what I needed. Yes, I don't often get to have fun like that. It's hard to find musicians to play with. Especially oud players.

"I hope you remembered to write to Epona before you fell asleep. I promised her I wouldn't let you forget."

He nodded. "I did that before dinner. Just a quick note - she wouldn't want to know all the boring details. Tashmoo wanted to know everything, and there were already several inquiries from her in the queue. I described the cone to her, and asked her if she had ever heard of an artifact like that." He pulled out his Time Concordance after looking around, and tapped the small screen several times. "She's gotten back to me already. She checked several references, and has come up dry. She also reminds me not to get killed, because she has more poems for me to edit."

Jo laughed, choking on her coffee. "That's very kind of her." She reached for a napkin.

"Cats. What can I say? They do have their priorities firmly in mind. At least she pays in cash for editing work." He helped himself to laban and ful, then continued to tap out a reply on the device.

Jo grinned over AP's shoulder. "Good morning, Daddy!" she distracted her father with fresh coffee and bread while her companion slipped the anachronistic device into a pocket.

After serving her father his breakfast, Jo sat next to him and smiled sweetly, her dark eyes shining. "Daddy...AP wants to ask you something important."

"Well young man, I suspected it was only a matter of time. It's a big step. Are you sure you're ready?"

"I have never been so sure of anything in my life, sir...er, Gene!"

The old man nodded. "I could see the passion in your eyes the moment you stepped into my office. All right, you have my blessing! Welcome to the Old Giza Reanimation Society, AP!" The men shook hands. Jo laughed and hugged her father, delighted to have her friend joining the cause.

"Jo, how are those old relics down in Mobile coming along? Have they gotten anything done since I sent those scrolls of poetry from Merytamunet's tomb?"

"You know how they are. They mean well, but they're as easily distracted as kittens. I don't think they have it in them anymore to actually complete anything!" She sighed. "We're supposed to be perfecting the "Opening of the Mouth" ceremony before we attempt it with Merytamunet's mummy, but it's like they're just sitting around waiting for someone else to tell them what to do. Last time I was out there, we made a little progress with mummified rats. Those lasted a few hours, which was an improvement. I thought that would be encouraging to the gentlemen, but..." she trailed off dejectedly.

Jo's father patted her hand. "Well darlin', the old boys have been fussing with this thing since long before you were born. Anybody would be bound to be a mite discouraged. Have y’all got any ideas yourselves?"

The other man replied, "We did try one thing. I suspected that it was the ostrich feathers. We will need a lot of them, so we bought them from a milliner. But I am told the hunters just shoot the birds, grab the feathers, and leave the rest to rot. I was reading an article on offerings, and the author said that if any of the offering was wasted it would be offensive to Ma'at. That would render the feathers useless as a spell component."

Jo refilled her father's coffee cup. "To test AP's theory, I tried one of the new feathers in the "Mhenankh's Divine Beer" spell Buford taught me, because I knew I could do that. The other spell components were from my own stash, so I know they were good. I ended up with a nice glass of ice-cold frog." She grimaced.

"And so y'all two are going to go chasing big ugly birds." Gene laughed. "Tell y'all what; come out with me to the dig site in the poor fella's basement and I'll get us a nice glass of something better than frog!"

~~~

"Stop fussing and get me one of your robes. And that scarf-thing you people wear on your heads" Hammer snapped at his servant. The Arab looked up at the creaking fans, then trudged out of the room. "And find me a ladder too!" He shouted after the man's retreating back. "One at least twelve feet long!"

It's impossible to think or plan around here with that pest puttering around. What in the hell does he do all the time? he thought. Action! I need to take some decisive action. That unctuous assassin is cutting me out of the chain of command.

His thoughts trailed off as he located the priestess's house on the map. Too far to carry a ladder in the middle of the night. Anyone seeing him would know something was up. The servant could carry it over during the busy part of the day and leave it close to the house. Who would notice one more Arab wandering around carrying any kind of bizarre thing? Just yesterday he'd seen one carrying a goat!

He tapped a spot on the map - there - only a block from the target, a blind alley...

Perfect. In fact, I should make the little rat keep an eye on it so one of his thieving pals doesn't lift it.

"All right mister assassin, let's see you top this. You will learn that The Hammer is not afraid of shadows and mumbo-jumbo."

Safari Chapter 3 – Mr. Hammer's Office

Chapter 3 – Mr. Hammer's Office

In a better office, in a better part of the city, three men sat at a table. Pulleys creaked as a long belt turned a row of fans above their heads. Despite the slowly revolving blades, Mr. Hammer fanned himself with his derby. A servant entered bearing a teapot on a tray, steam wafting from the spout.

Straightening his spectacles, the man with the derby cleared his throat. “Fakeeh…your murder of that peasant has only worsened our situation. If you had threatened him effectively we could have purchased his house, and what lies beneath, easily and cheaply. Instead his widow sold the property to the accursed Dr. Boone. And none of that would have happened if you had 'negotiated' a price for the cone in the first place! You should not have offered less, expecting to extract an extra commission! We had been led to believe that you were the most effective fixer in all of Cairo.” Behind him, the servant made a contemptuous gesture. Fakeeh nodded almost imperceptibly in response.

The dark wiry man accepted a cup of tea with a slight bow. A beaming smile spread across his face, somehow at odds with the coiled-spring tension that should have been obvious from his posture. “Forgive me, Honored Hemaar,” he began, casting a warning glance at the servant who had coughed at the word 'donkey', "Your exact words to me were 'That double-crossing bastard should be strangled and thrown in the river!'"

"You knew I didn't mean that!" His face reddened with anger. "That was-"

"I fail to comprehend how my following your instructions to the letter can be taken for bumbling on my part. In my poor confused state, I blindly adhered to your command that I should not improvise.” He opened his pocket watch and glanced at it idly. “And besides, is it not written in the law of your prophet Moses that one should not bind the mouth of the ox treading the grain? A 'gratuity', as you say, is a long-established custom in this land. But I grow weary of this dispute." He pushed away the untasted cup of tea, subtly refusing the offered hospitality. "There are others, far more appreciative of my talents, who in this very hour would leap at the chance to employ me.” He began to stand.

Hammer slammed his cup down on the table, sputtering in incoherent rage. With an uneasy expression, the servant edged toward the door, ready to make a break for safety. Hammer took a deep breath. "Why you-"

Silent until now, the final man in the room snapped "Hammer! That will suffice! Sit down and hush!" He turned to Fakeeh. “Your pardon, Suh,” he drawled, making a placating gesture. “I see that my deputy has offended you, and that his carpetbagger ways are at the root of our troubles. Now that I have arrived, allow me to make amends by dealin' with you directly, as a true professional.”

“Ma'leish, as long as I do not see the face of this dog again. If you tell me the exact result that your heart desires, I shall endeavor to bring it about. Provided,” he threw a triumphant grin at Hammer, “that I have no interference.”

“My word of honor on it, Suh. Now, as to our aims, we want to acquire the cone as soon as possible, without further arousin' the curiosity of Dr. Boone. We also need whatever other artifacts lie beneath that house. Now that Boone's daughter and the time traveler have arrived, our task becomes far more difficult and dangerous."

In a final attempt to redeem himself, the carpetbagger interrupted. "The cone was moved to Boone's house yesterday. We should take this chance to grab it and anything else they've already dug up. I have the address..."

The assassin examined the scrap of paper; his heavy eyebrows raised as he recognized the address. He glanced at Hammer for the briefest moment, formulating a plan. “La! No, NO!! That is the house of the Priestess! It would be death to enter there with bad intent. I will choose the time and place...” The paper fluttered to the floor as he strode from the room.

Once outside, Fakeeh smiled to himself, confident that the carpetbagger would rise to the bait.

Safari Chapter 2 - Dr. Boone's Office

Chapter 2 - Dr. Boone's Office

The travelers had arrived at the office of Josephine's father, Dr. Eugene Wesley Boone. The door was opened by a grizzled old Arab servant, who greeted them humbly, then started shouting at the taxi driver, who was apparently his cousin. Jo and AP exchanged looks and left the two arguing in the street. Still shaken, they unsteadily wound their way through the narrow corridors. "Daddy?" Jo called, "Where are you?" An old man in rumpled seersucker appeared from a doorway down the hall, his face lighting up at the sight of his youngest daughter.

"Jo, darlin', you made it! And is this the Shan fella you told me about?"

"No, Daddy. Shan is a rooster," she replied, referring to her magically transformed roommate. "This is AP. He's a human." Her companion stepped forward to introduce himself.

"Coupe de Fleur, but you can call me AP; everyone does." He rolled his eyes in resignation. The old man smiled and nodded vaguely, then led them into a small office.

It was dusty, cramped, and full of interesting artifacts. A pair of ushabti sat on a table, carefully piecing together an ancient scroll. Shelves on the wall were haphazardly stacked with artifacts; animal-headed statuettes, bronze mirrors and amulets were jumbled up with bird and cat mummies and faience perfume bottles. A was sceptre leaned precariously against the desk. Jo attempted to clean the dust from her spectacles. She smiled fondly at her friend, who was gazing around, enraptured by all the ancient objects. Replacing her spectacles, she spied a small statue of Min, a prominent fertility god, and turned away, blushing.

Tearing his eyes away from a miniature harp, AP turned back to the archaeologist. "I have always been fascinated by Egyptology, sir, in fact I've made a lifelong study of it, but I’ve never had the privilege to see artifacts up close and outside a display case."

"Here, have a look at this." Dr. Boone said, casually tossing a jeweled scarab with a wind-up key protruding from its back. Just then the servant appeared with refreshments, welcome after the heat of the taxi and the dusty streets. Jo thanked him and took the tray, serving the cookies and Southern-style iced tea herself.

Father and daughter examined the work of the ushabti, excitedly discussing the hieroglyphs. AP laughed, "Your dad seems to have a lot more talent for controlling ushabtis, Jo!" The young woman explained, telling her father about the little servant figure that had malfunctioned in her own office and kept her awake for several nights after having gotten into the walls of her house.

After a couple of cookies, AP resumed his examination of the scarab. "Can the mechanism stand the stress of winding, after all this time, Dr. Boone?"

"Course it can, it might as well be new! And call me Gene."

After gingerly winding the little toy, he set it on the desk and watched, fascinated, as the little beast marched along, stopping at intervals to swing its mandibles about. "This is totally amazing! I have never heard of any mechanism this sophisticated being made in ancient Egypt! What period is it from?"

"Now that’s pretty late period; nothing special. You want special? Take a look at this." Gene moved several boxes around, peering briefly into each one before setting it aside. Eventually he pulled out a linen-wrapped object, and carefully handed it to AP. Unwrapping it, he found a beautiful cone of deep blue, covered with golden hieroglyphics. Two spiral posts of gold extended from the bottom.

"This came out of the basement of one of the locals. Fella wanted a fortune for it...would've got it if he’d been digging around down there for legal purposes."

AP pushed up his spectacles to look closely at the writing. "It doesn’t seem to be a religious text, but it mentions Ma'at - meaning "stability" or "regulation” in this context? And this series means 700,000... somethings - another puzzle - don't they just say "million" when they want an impressive number? And Re - the sun god. Is that what you make it out to be?" He handed the object to Jo.

She pointed to the row of lotuses. "See the flame coming from each one? They represent Zep Tepi...the Beginning." She went on to explain one of the many Egyptian creation stories. "When the first lotus emerged from the Uncreated, it opened to reveal the first light. At that time, the universe was in perfect balance." As she idly traced the lotuses with her fingertip, a look of concern crossed her face.

"Daddy...where is the fella you got this from?"

The old man paused a moment before answering. "He went swimming in the river," he replied slowly.

Her companion looked puzzled. "Wouldn't that be a bit dangerous?"

"What Daddy means," Jo answered softly, "is that he was killed. His body was thrown to the crocodiles."

The old archaeologist nodded. "The widow sold us the house cheap. Never saw her again, neither."