Safari Chapter 7 - The Opener of the Way

Chapter 7 - The Opener of the Way

Abiff threw the worn bundle of reeds over the side, grabbed a fresh handful, and resumed scrubbing. It kept him busy, but unfortunately left his mind free to dwell on his problems. Traveling upstream should have been a wonderful adventure. He'd never been on a boat, never even been out of the city. But his entire life had been torn apart over the last few days, all because of that junk his father had dug up from the basement. Now he had no father, no basement, no house, no life.

"Abiff! Habibi, where are you?" The boy stood up from behind some crates where he had paused for a moment to rest. His mother beckoned to him from the small deck stove where she had been stirring something spicy-smelling in a large pot. She tucked a piece of bread into his hand. "Eat." She regarded him for a moment with red-rimmed eyes before turning away again.

Abiff chewed the stale bread thoughtfully as he returned to his scrubbing duties. He hadn't yet told his mother that he had hidden several small items from the basement in his bag. He wondered if he might be able to sell them. His mother worried about everything, and he didn't want to add to her burden. If she knew about the objects, she would worry about those, too. It would be far easier to keep silent and sell the items to tourists when she wasn't around. Tourists would buy anything from a cute little boy with a big smile. If he could raise some money he could be a man, instead of a child, fed scraps like a dog. Another bundle of reeds joined the last one, floating downstream as the underpowered boat struggled against the current.

~~~

The young acolyte stood at the corner of Kamal Farag and Al Somal Street wishing for a sign. No, not wishing. Praying. She was definitely praying, O Seshat, in your wisdom, please grant me some sign or omen, or something. Please? Oh, and please don't let me be killed by whatever I'm supposed to be meeting...

She was hot, tired and thirsty from wandering, and she had no idea where she was supposed to be going. The message transcript she had been given was useless, in addition to being terrifying. The gloating smile plastered on Old Stick's face as he gave her this assignment only added to her sense of doom. Looking to her right, she spotted part of the sign of her one of her favorite hideouts, a British-owned ice cream shop. If she was going to die, she might as well have a treat beforehand. It's not like she would have a use for her allowance if she was devoured.

~~~

Fakeeh leaned in the shade of an awning, watching the door of Ha-B-B Ice Cream Parlour. He was sure that his quarry was still inside. On at least three occasions, only blind luck had allowed him to re-acquire their trail. They were truly masters at eluding pursuit. At one point, they had turned abruptly and walked right past him, the tall man giving him an almost imperceptible nod. The beautiful young woman had shot him a look of reproach as they passed, her luminous eyes saying “How clumsy to allow us to spot you.” It left him standing stunned. At last, worthy adversaries.

A teenage girl in a white dress had been wandering up and down the street for several minutes now, muttering to herself. Finally she straightened and strode through the door, as if facing a terrible fate. Probably going to meet some boy. Ah, youth...Fakeeh was glad to have left those days behind.

~~~

Zizi stood for a moment inside the shop, letting her eyes adjust after the blazing sunlit streets. She didn't see anything especially horrible waiting for her. She walked to the counter and studied the menu board for a moment. Last day on earth? No need to watch my figure; I'm going to get the biggest bowl of ice cream they offer. With double fudge sauce. And sprinkles.

The boy behind the counter slid her the bowl, raising one eyebrow. "What's up Zizi? I've never seen you order anything larger than your head."

"Hey, are you from Per Seshat?" The voice from behind Zizi made her squeak and spin around, nearly dropping the huge bowl. A fair skinned lady was looking at her with concern in her large dark eyes. "Are you all right?"

"Seshat? Yes, I'm from Seshat. Why? Who are you?"

The lady smiled with relief. "Oh, finally! We've been waiting for you!" Just then Zizi noticed the American tourist at the table behind the lady. They didn't look frightening at all. Just tired, like her. As Zizi relaxed, the boy turned his attention back to the stubborn ice cream churn. He gave it a kick, scuffing the copper casing and causing it to spew steam at him.

The American man motioned her over to the table. "As long as you've got ice cream, you might as well sit down and eat it before we leave. After this many hours, a few more minutes aren’t going to make a difference." He stood and pulled out a chair for her.

The lady extended her hand. "Josephine Boone. Call me Jo. I recognized your temple garb when you came in. I serve at Per Heteret in Dendera, and the acolytes there wear similar gowns."

As Zizi devoured the gooey dessert her new acquaintances explained how they had gotten lost looking for the temple. "You said Safekh-Aubi Street? My mother told me that was the name before the Arabs arrived. It hasn't been called that for... what? at least a thousand years! Who in the world gave you that address? Do you still have the invitation?"

Zizi took the folded letter from AP. "This is from the Registrar. What a rat! I'm sure he did this hoping you'd never show up. I heard a rumor that... ooh, that must have been you! He threw your application out, and later that day the weekly oracle kept saying "The rejected must be admitted." The director found out about it, and there was an argument in her office that could be heard by anyone in the hallway. There were a lot of anyones in that hallway once the word got out." She chased a wayward sprinkle around the bowl, her spoon leaving trails through the remains of the fudge sauce. "Anyway, I really appreciate you not killing me."

"No trouble at all. Killing a fellow student while she was eating ice cream would just earn me a bad reputation. It could be hard to find study partners, or someone to check my homework."

Giving up on the last sprinkle, the girl tossed her spoon onto the table with a clatter. "I know a shortcut back to the temple, Johnny," she called to the counter boy, "We're going out the back way. See you after the Festival of Emergence!"

~~~

After having lurked in the same shadow for hours, Fakeeh suspected he was becoming conspicuous. He strolled down the street, glancing into shop windows as if he had all the time in the world. He glanced casually into the window of the ice cream shop, but the man and woman he had been following were nowhere to be seen. Hiding his annoyance behind a charming smile, he entered the shop and ordered a sarsaparilla float, dropping a generous tip into the jar on the counter. His quarry was gone, but the remnants of their visit still stood on the table, traces of the woman’s ambrosial perfume wafting through the air around it. Behind the counter, the teenaged British boy returned to swearing in English and kicking some unfortunate contraption. It retaliated by spraying him with something orange that smelled of mangoes.

Ignoring the foreign boy's struggles, the assassin took in the details of the duo's repast, the better to learn more about them. The woman had drunk coffee with cream and sugar; a smear of her lipstick remained on the porcelain cup. The man had drunk several sarsaparilla floats, one of Fakeeh's preferred refreshments. Had the empty glasses been left as a message for him? A third person had joined them, perhaps the troubled girl? Could she have been following him while he was following the others, putting on a convincing act? The huge bowl had one lonely bit of candy left in the bottom, surrounded by strange markings in the remains of the fudge sauce. Fakeeh leaned down to pick up a spoon from the floor, giving the bowl a closer look, and he almost laughed out loud as the pattern of fudge in the bowl resolved into a rude word.

For the first time in his career, he had the sensation of being expertly outmaneuvered. The game had become too easy, dealing with brainless louts and he had become lazy and bored. Now he felt a thrill of danger, and dancing on the edge of it appealed to him.

His smile now genuine, he strolled back out into the street to deliver a message to his employer. Yes, a worthy adversary.

Safari Chapter 6 - A Message from the Gods

Chapter 6 - A Message from the Gods

AP wondered how Jo could enjoy sipping hot coffee in this weather. The woman appeared unconcerned by the heat, but she was probably used to it, having grown up in southern Alabama. She looked at the map she had bought from a street vendor. To AP's amazement, she took out a red pen and began making corrections. She didn't appear to have slept at all the previous night, and no wonder...after hours of lying awake, she had dropped off to be immediately awakened again with the news that someone had tried to break into the house. Concluding that the someone could have been after the strange artifacts, and perhaps the very same someone had thrown the fella's body in the river, Jo and AP left the house before dawn to take the objects to a safer place: the Temple of Seshat.

AP looked at his empty glass, and waved at the boy for a refill. It wasn't every day you could get a sarsaparilla float, and getting dehydrated would be a disaster in this heat. He tapped the time concordance. Four hours late! How could it have happened? Who would build a city without any street signs?

"Still no sign of Safekh-Aubi street, Jo?" She shook her head.

Unexpectedly the device chimed, and the boy looked up. AP tapped the rim of his glass, hoping the similar sound would mislead him. A bubble appeared on the screen that read "Link established- Seshat_Core." Checking the details, he discovered to his surprise that the little device had been trying to establish an encoding protocol for days.

"Jo" he whispered, "I think I may be able to send a message to the temple from here! Maybe they can give us some directions that will make sense." She shrugged and went back to her task. At least it kept her from glaring at him. "Wait - if that map is so wrong, directions may not do us any good. I'll just tell them where we are, and ask them to send a guide out to get us." He composed a message and tapped "send." A few seconds later he got a confirmation that the message had been received. "There! That should take care of it. We can just relax here until someone shows up. In the meantime, I'm going to try out that reed instrument I found at the dig house. Your dad's helper called it a mijwiz."

There was no response from Jo; she had fallen asleep behind the map. AP shrugged and pulled the instrument from his bag...

~~~

It was late afternoon and Hammer was just able to drag himself out of bed. His mouth tasted like... he wasn't even going to complete that thought. However he tasted, he smelled even worse. His whole arm was on fire and he wanted to tear the skin right off. "I can't just keep dwelling on it. Got to get a new plan. If I don't..." Only one drop of poison from that ugly cobra idol. How could it do that? He went to the basin and poured water over it, scrubbing it with soap again. The scrubbing gave a little relief, but as he rinsed it the itching sensation returned with a vengeance. In the glaring light, he could see hundreds of criss-crossing scratches - he must have been clawing at it in his sleep.

"Can't try the house again. Grab it when they move it?" Moving... How had that statue appeared to move? The screen had cut into his fingers...had there been opium on the sharp edges?

Suddenly overcome with nausea, he retched into the basin.

...he had absolutely not just vomited a large snake. That wasn't possible. The poison was causing him to see things. He watched with horrified fascination as the hallucination slithered out of the basin and disappeared into the bedroom, then he sat on the cold tile for a while, breathing slowly.

He was starting to feel a bit better...maybe he had vomited up some of the poison. Yes, that was it. Not a snake! There was no snake anywhere to be found. The nausea had gone too, so he could think clearly again.

No use wandering around until I have a plan. If I can't stay alert, someone will knife me for my boots. He'd feel better if he got out of these sweaty rags. He cleaned himself up and put on fresh clothes, with difficulty as his arm had mercifully started going numb.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"...and to recap our second section, a plan is not complete until it...."

Zizi shifted, trying to keep her bottom from going numb in the narrow seat. Every time she attended one of these compulsory seminars, it became more obvious how much the temple staff had shrunk over the years. Only one seat in twelve was occupied. Her mother had wanted her to carry on the family tradition, but Zizi wondered how long the temple could survive if applications continued to drop. At least the lighting on the audience side of the room was always dim, so the lectures could be a welcome chance to catch a nap after lunch. On the stage Sehmyir stood at the podium, peering at his notes like a myopic turtle. The lecture was putting her to sleep as usual. She let her eyelids droop....

"... Once your plan is complete and has been reviewed, you must be alert to communications from the Neteru. And just how will the gods make themselves known to you? Their ways are suble and not easily..."

Something tweaked her consciousness, and for a moment she feared that she had been called on. But it was a sensation of green. Her eyes snapped open, and she heard a collective gasp, realizing that she had joined the chorus.

Behind the droning lecturer, huge glowing glyphs were appearing on the wall, one-by-one. After a moment, he looked up and faltered, as he realized his audience was gaping at him. More than one raised their hands to point, and he slowly turned to see another row of green glyphs begin to appear.

Several of the higher clergy had gathered at the front of the room, whispering among themselves, taking notes, studying the archaic symbols. Some of the students were creeping toward the heavy doors, others sat staring goggle-eyed at the message, or furtively scribbling their own translation attempts. Zizi was never one to stick around after the lecture was over and she wasn’t wasting any time now. The teenaged priestess-in-training had her hand on the door when her name was called.

She turned to see the lecturer smiling at her, but it was not an expression of fondness. This was the smile of someone who knew he would soon be rid of a particularly troublesome obstacle. “Miss Aziza, I have a task for you.”

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."