by K. T. Tomb
The driver slowed and eased the Denali to the shoulder of the road and came to a stop.
“Put it in park and get out.”
“Miss Stone, I was directed by Dr…”
“Put it in park and get out,” she hissed. “I’m not going to repeat myself.”
The driver put the Denali in park and got out. Chyna slid between the bucket seats and behind the wheel. She placed the SIG in the console between her and Oscar and reached for the shift lever. As she put the SUV in gear, the driver attempted to protest.
“Unless you want to stay here, you have about 3 seconds to get in the back,” she warned.
The driver got in the back of the Denali. Not another word was said during the rest of the trip toward Luxor.
***
Chyna and the team arrived at Dr. Nassir’s supply base, at the edge of the Valley of the Kings, an hour after sunset with Chyna still behind the wheel and the shaken driver in the seat behind.
There was a startled look on the face of Dr. Nassir’s assistant when he saw them pull up with Chyna in the driver’s seat. In almost the same moment, he noticed the rear window was missing from the Denali.
“What happened?” he asked as Chyna, Oscar, Lana and their former driver stepped out of the vehicle.
“Bandits,” Chyna responded.
“Is everyone okay?” he asked, his face paling.
“You might check your driver’s panties, but the three of us are okay,” Chyna smirked. She reached back into the SUV, drew out the SIG and tucked it into her waistband. “I’m Chyna, this is Lana and Oscar. If you don’t mind, we will be doing our own driving from now on.”
“I will have to get that cleared with Dr. Nassir,” the assistant responded. “I was told to…”
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t get your name,” she interrupted.
“My name is Seth.”
“Well, Seth, Dr. Nassir and I are very old friends, so unless you want to be on his bad side,” she smiled. “I would suggest that you get the back window of the Denali that I will be driving fixed instead of worrying over insisting that I have a driver.”
Suddenly realizing that Dr. Nassir was not going to be happy with the damage done to the Denali, Seth gave up his argument and started barking out orders to those around him. Within minutes their luggage and equipment was unloaded and they were comfortable in their quarters.
Lana, her assistant investigator, and Oscar, the company’s technical engineer, had been on assignment with her in the Middle East for the greater portion of a year and as usual, they were indispensable to her. Together, they had successfully recovered a priceless Greek artifact, The Minoan Mask, and placed it to its rightful place in history and public knowledge. The adventure had been the epitome of what her company stood for; they had essentially found a piece of lost history, thought it hadn’t been accomplished in the most graceful manner. In order to get their hands on the Minoan Mask, they had been forced to endure a battle with an unscrupulous adversary; almost costing her life and lives of her team and the lives of several F.B.I. agents as well, one of whom she was particularly fond.
They began to settle into their new accommodations over the next few days as they waited for Dr. Nassir to contact them after returning from an unavoidable trip to the Sudan. The compound boasted a perimeter fence which was about eight feet high and served to keep wandering wildlife, like crocodiles and hyena, out and those inside the camp safe. Across the river they could make out the bright lights of the city of Luxor, which was quite a metropolis, thriving on both tourism and commerce. The desert air was crisp as the temperatures began to fall steadily for the night. At that time of year, it was very common for the days to get as hot as eighty-five degrees Fahrenheit and for the nights to plummet to the lower fifties.
They all took advantage of the opportunity to luxuriate in the plentiful, warm water of the camp’s bath house, which was located in a retrofitted shipping container. The structure was ingenious in Chyna’s eyes. Water pumped up from the river was stored in several black plastic containers on the container’s flat roof and then piped together to feed another pump and an air pressure tank which then supplied the shower stalls and basins inside with a constant stream of water. Of course, the persistent sun heated the water tanks which retained it due to their black color. It was certainly refreshing to wash off the sweat and dust of the day’s journey through the desert.
The third evening in camp, Chyna finally received the news she was waiting for and announced the new plan to the group as they sat around the crackling fire. After a campfire meal of flatbread and baked beans, the crew retired to the cots in their tents. Surprisingly, they were all quickly acclimatized to the camp lifestyle in the few days they had spent in the desert, despite the weeks of tremendous luxury they had spent in Cairo just prior.
Her memory of the three days in Cairo with Anthony was still fresh in her mind and even as she vividly recalled each detail, her body shuddered with the recollection of their coupling. Anthony had been Chyna’s secret affair for most of her adult life. They had met in New York some fourteen years prior, when he was fresh out of college and just starting as a recruit with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. She had finished an anthropology degree at Stanford University and was integrating herself into the running of Found History, her father’s archaeological consultancy company; the work fascinated her. They were visiting the J. Edgar Hoover building in Washington D.C. on an invitation from the Director, when they had the chance to sit in on a briefing of the diplomatic service recruits. Chyna listened keenly as the presenter instructed the men and women on what being assigned to an overseas post would normally entail.
When presenter asked if there were any questions, Chyna boldly raised her hand. She asked if it was more common for the F.B.I.’s diplomatic attachés to be assigned to the embassy or consulate or to an actual diplomat. The recruits were all impressed by the newcomer’s question as it was an aspect the instructor had not mentioned. She replied that the agents would normally be assigned to the location. They live and work out of a secure location, usually a large house, alongside a number of other agents. The team would be responsible for as many diplomats as were assigned to their location as well as those who were visiting their region.
After the lecture, a group of recruits invited Chyna to join them for coffee in the cafeteria, and with her father’s blessing, she had. They had a great time talking about their training, their educational background and the careers they were pursuing. The agents found Chyna’s involvement with Found History and the work the company did fascinating, most of all a young man in the group named Anthony Stewart. He was your typical New Yorker; born and raised in Brooklyn, Italian-American from a family of five boys who were all in law enforcement or the military. He was the first to have gone to college and decided he would join either the F.B.I. or the Department of Defense, but since he wasn’t inclined to join the armed forces, it turned out to be the F.B.I.
Smitten by Chyna’s witty banter and pretty face, Anthony had asked her out on a date. She said no but gave him her number and told him he should keep asking and maybe one day she’d say yes. They became fast friends, talked regularly on the telephone even when one of them was away on assignment and got together for a drink as often as their schedules allowed. One day, Anthony asked her if she was ever going to let him take her out for dinner and Chyna finally said yes. The rest was an off and on chapter in history as they stole every moment they could to be together between the demands of their young careers and increasingly difficult schedules. They had both had relationships with other people over the years, all of which ended in disaster. It just didn’t seem that anyone else could understand what made the two of them tick, or appreciate it. So, they held on to what they had; they were best friends all the time and lovers when they could be and it was more than either of them could ask for.
Chapter Two
The following morning, Chyna’s team took all their luggage and equipment down to the ferry docks where
they waited to cross the river to the city.
It didn’t take long before they saw the boat approaching, Dr. Nassir was waving happily at them from the deck. Ferry crew and attendants loaded their things onto the spacious flat vessel and Chyna carefully drove their Denali, with a newly repaired back window, on board as well. When it was secure, she jumped down from the driver’s seat and turned to hug her friend.
“You’re brown as a bean, Doctor,” she said to Nassir. “Not enough sunscreen and, as usual, I see you are not wearing your hat.”
“Chyna,” he replied, smiling widely, “hats are for tourists, but you are right about the sunscreen. I ran out weeks ago.”
They laughed and hugged again. As Chyna was introducing Nassir to the rest of her team, the ferry was launched and they began their trip towards Luxor. From the river, they could see the well preserved ruins of the temple and the palace but the modern buildings that housed the many businesses and residents that kept the metropolis buzzing dominated the background. It was a stunning contrast but strangely, the old and the new fit neatly together, neither one crowding in on the other. The valley stretched out beyond the edge of the structures in verdant belts towards the hills and then there was the stark white of the dunes in every direction beyond that.
“What happened to your driver?” Dr. Nassir asked.
She smiled, realizing that Seth had avoided discussing what had happened with his boss. There was no point outing either of them or shaking up Nassir with what had happened.
“Aaaahhh, you know me, Doctor,” she laughed. “I like doing things myself.”
“Yes, I suppose you are right,” Nassir laughed. “I just hope you were gentle with him.”
“Of course,” she replied.
“Less than 10 minutes together and you are already lying to me,” he roared with laughter. Oscar and Lana joined in and they laughed well for a moment. With tears in his eyes, Nassir regained control of himself. “It is so good to be working with you again, Chyna.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
Conversation stopped for a moment as each allowed the moment to pass.
“How long is the ferry ride Nassir?” Chyna asked.
“It will be about forty-five minutes to get across, Chyna,” He replied.
“Very well, then please take the opportunity to fill me in, Doctor,” she said.
“Thousands of years ago, the ancient Egyptians would only make the journey across this holy river when a very important person had died and they were to be buried in the great necropolis which we now call the Valley of the Kings. The funeral and burial of a royal, ancient Egyptian was a complex process. The preserved body in its sarcophagus would lie in state on a palanquin inside the great temple of Amun-Ra for several days, at the end of which the family would offer judgments on the character and behavior of the king to the city’s officials, making their case why he should be allowed into the Afterlife. When the officials were satisfied, the sarcophagus would be borne out of the temple on the palanquin and the people who would be attending the body would form up around and behind it accordingly. At the front were mourners, usually women, who were paid to cry loudly and sob while covering their heads with dust.”
“The very first dramatic actresses,” she grinned.
“You might say that, yes,” he continued. “Behind the mourners came the family of the deceased and various officials. The procession then made its way to the edge of the Nile where all the participants were required to board boats and cross the river to the western side, the favored location for burials.
“All the boats, excepting that which bore the pharaoh’s body would remain at the river bank; the funerary boat would be dragged all the way to the tomb. It would have been shaped somewhat like a barge, over 100 feet long and weighing as much as 45 tons. To navigate the Nile in one of these required 12 oarsmen, six on each side. When a pharaoh was buried, ancient Egyptians believed he would need a boat in the Afterlife, so they buried at least one funeral boat either inside or near the tomb.
“Having crossed, relatives were positioned at either end of the barge, which was usually drawn by oxen, with two of the female relatives or priestesses acting the roles of goddesses Isis and Nephthys; other participants carried canopic jars and other grave goods, while the hired mourners, along with dancers, musicians and priests would follow. The concluding funerary rites took place in front of the tomb. The mummy was raised upright for the ‘Opening of the Mouth’ ceremony. This was an elaborate ritual performed by priests so the dead person could use all their senses in the afterlife. The practices involved in this ceremony included purification, anointing and the reciting of prayers and spells, as well as touching the mummy with ritual objects to restore the senses. Then, food and clothing were offered to the dead person and mourners participated in the funerary banquet. The mummy was then placed in the burial chamber of the tomb, fully prepared for the Afterlife.
“Because it was customary for Egyptians to bury west of the metropolis, it has become easier, as we gained more knowledge of their customs, to locate the burial places of their time. A year ago, when geologists began studying satellite images of the eastern hills and the wadi below, they came across some strange formations in the sand. They had been in search of new aquifers to help reclaim more farmland, but what they found was a series of underground passages which they thought were part of the ancient city.”
“What have you deduced so far, Dr. Nassir?” Oscar asked eagerly.
“It seems we have found evidence of an underground citadel that Akhenaten’s Grand Vizier, Ay, is said to have constructed,” he replied. “Such a structure had been made mention of on a papyrus scroll found among the Amarna Letters. Those papers were thought to be a collection of Akhenaten’s, Nefertiti’s and Tutankhamun’s diplomatic correspondences. Perhaps they were in agreement with Ay over the construction of the chambers. He possibly passed off the idea of a hiding place for the family in case of a revolt against their unpopular religion of the ‘one god’ Aten. The royal family was proud and firm in their new faith but they were also quite astute when it came to the feelings of the people. It was true that there had been several times when the possibility of rebellion against them had seemed imminent.
“The letters had gone on to suggest that when the chambers were complete, certain priceless artifacts of their religion might be stored there for safe keeping. It is a well known fact that after the death of an unpopular king, whether by their own accord or on the order of the new pharaoh, the Egyptians would launch a campaign of damnatio memoriae in which a good deal of artifacts and images of that reign are damaged or destroyed. This is another reason why Akhenaten’s role and that of the entire Amarna Period is so pivotal to the history of Ancient Egypt.”
“Why is that, Dr. Nassir?” Chyna asked, fascinated and being afflicted by the professor’s contagious excitement.
“Because, it was near the end of this period and at the close of the eighteenth dynasty, that the Egyptian Book of Life disappeared from them. In fact, it would have disappeared from antiquity as well if it had not been mentioned in a letter from Akhenaten to Ay in which he instructed the vizier to ensure that when the secret place had been completed, the book should be ensconced there for safe keeping,” he replied.
“Doctor, please elaborate,” Lana chimed in finally. “What exactly is this Book of Life? I’m really only familiar with it by name.”
“In the third dynasty of Ancient Egypt, the Pharaoh Djoser moved the capital north to Saqqara, also known as Memphis. The central portion of the country was ravaged by civil war and the old capital of Thinis was all but destroyed. At the beginning of a new dynasty, the young king was urged to rebuild the nation and promote prosperity and security. He instigated the construction of the first pyramid there, the Step Pyramid, and brought farmers from the south to extensively cultivate the fertile belt on both sides of the Nile. To appease himself, he instructed the High Priests to begin the recording of all the names of the men and
women who had ever ruled the country. They were to add to each name; the names of their wives or husbands, their consorts and important lovers, their sons and daughters, the location of their home and their capital and of course, their accomplishments. When it was done he instructed them to maintain the record and to always record meticulously about each ruler; it was to be an unbiased and complete record, but most importantly an indestructible one. So, Djoser’s book was created and it was kept in the library of the Holy Temple in whichever city was the capital at the time. The priests maintained the record and the pharaoh was the only other person who knew of its existence.”
“Ard,” the ferryman cried out, as they approached the dock.
He went from the front of the deck to the back, punching return tickets and collecting fares for the one-ways. When he stopped at their group, Dr. Nassir handed him his ticket and a one hundred gihneih note.
“Keep it,” Dr. Nassir said to him, as he started to rummage for the change in his bag.
“Shukran, Sayyed,” he replied.
Chyna climbed into the driver’s seat of the Denali and when the ferry gate was lowered, she backed it out onto the dock and parked it out of the main line of traffic. Nassir unrolled a map on the hood of the SUV and they studied it for a moment as they discussed their plan. He pointed out the main archaeological attraction of the city and then showed her the route out of town towards the dig site.
“It’s on the very first wadi, not far from that last farm there,” he said, pointing to the last patch of green in that direction on the map.
With everyone loaded into the luxury SUV, they drove from the dock and into the city of Luxor. The pillars and statues of ancient ruins towered over them, fascinating and stimulating to their senses. Even the blend of the modern architecture couldn’t compete with the weathered pieces of gigantic stone that seemed to be everywhere within the city. They got on the main road and drove straight out of the town into what quickly became a suburb and that just as quickly became farmland. Soon the green gave way to brown and the wadi stretched out in front of them. At the rim of the valley, they saw the compound. A chain-link perimeter fence surrounded by several container buildings like the one they had made us of at the supply camp; a few were even two-storied. Guards were stationed at the main gates; when they saw Dr. Nassir, they swung them open to let the vehicle inside.