by Ian Cook
Larry looked at him sympathetically. “Don’t you see? I don’t understand it myself yet, but you can feel that a real contempt for redheads is building up, all around the world. And it’s being reciprocated. Except that the redheads are in a minority. You told me yourself the same thing was happening in the States, according to your friend Greg. That it was linked to the changes in the magnetic field. Now we’ve got Orkney.”
“But how do you feel? You don’t seem affected at all by all this,” observed Jim. “You seem to be genuinely fond of Rebecca, all the time. You don’t seem irritated by her. No repelling magnets with you!”
Larry took out his wallet, produced a crumpled photograph and showed it to Jim. “Maybe this has got something to do with it.”
Jim looked at it. The photograph showed an attractive woman with short, red hair in a 1950s’ perm.
“My mother,” said Larry. “A redhead who carried the gene for red hair in its dominant form. I’m beginning to think I could be carrying the gene in the recessive form, because I’ve been having some visions myself, recently. No, don’t worry! Nothing like Rebecca’s. Just very powerful dreams, the same as I used to have years ago. I thought they had gone. Now they’re back.” Turning away from Jim, he gazed out of the window across the campus. “Also, I have a daughter myself, and I suppose I have a lot of sympathy for Rebecca.”
He stood up and started collecting up the papers on his desk. “And there’s something else. Tomorrow’s the winter solstice.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” said Jim. “Hordes of druids on the march? A load of old hippies banging drums and chanting ‘Hari Krishna’?”
“I’m being serious, Jim. As you know, in the ancient world, this was when people celebrated the return of the strength of the sun. I really believe it’s no coincidence that all those red-haired children have disappeared in Orkney right now. I think this might be a time when the children, Rebecca and other red-haired people could be in great danger. I may be wrong but I really think we should be in Orkney. And I think we should go right away. This could be the moment when Neferatu strikes again.”
Jim looked at Larry, half smiling. “You’re really serious?” “Look, Jim. I know all this is hard to accept for you as a scientist, but you should see it could be the biggest breakthrough since quantum mechanics. I just need you to try and go along with this. Come with me to Orkney. You’re not going to pass up an opportunity like this, are you? We have to go now.” He stood up. “Let’s go.”
“Okay, okay,” said Jim. “But if you want my opinion, I think it’s madness.”
Larry grabbed his briefcase, stuffed the papers in it and opened the door for Jim. Within a few moments, they were in Jim’s car on their way to the hotel.
CHAPTER 64
Coming to a straight stretch of road, Jim turned to Larry. “By the way, did you find out anything about Horus? Did he wear a ring that was special or something?”
“Couldn’t find any evidence of a ring, but I did find out something.” Larry produced some sheets of paper from his briefcase and showed one to Jim, pointing to an illustration. “Look at this. There’s a small statue of him, called Horus of Pe, on display in the Egyptian section of the British Museum. And guess what? It has the head of a falcon.”
Jim glanced at it. “Go on.”
“Horus was the son of Osiris and Isis, the brother and sister gods of ancient Egypt. He started off as a sky god, and then became a sun god. And here’s the interesting bit. In one temple in ancient Egypt – Edfu – he took the form of a bird. A peregrine.” He tapped another illustration with his finger. “Not only that, but at another temple, he was worshipped as a man with the head of a hawk.”
Jim swore and pulled up abruptly at some traffic lights as they turned red. Larry sorted out another sheet of paper.
“It gets even more interesting. Listen to this. Osiris was killed by his brother, Seth. According to one version, this happened before Horus was born – Horus was conceived miraculously by his mother, Isis, after Osiris was murdered. Isis was the sister of Seth and Osiris. It was quite a family feud.” Larry looked pleased with himself. “Still with me?” He leafed through the sheets of paper until he found another illustration and held it in front of Jim.
“Not the sort of character you’d like to meet on a dark night,” said Jim.
“The Seth animal,” said Larry. “A dog-like body, a long tail – sometimes forked at the end – pricked-up ears and, here we go…” His voice rose in ill-concealed excitement. “He had red hair. And he was also identified with the serpent.”
“The serpent…” said Jim, as he accelerated away from the lights. “I thought it was supposed to be a serpent on the Newton Stone that put Rebecca into a trance.”
“There’s more,” said Larry. “Myth has it that Geb, the Earth-God, divided Egypt into two halves. Horus was given the northern part, Seth the southern. Maybe the myth reflects historical reality, because north and south battled and the conflict may have been represented by Horus and Seth. Eventually, the north conquered the south and Egypt was united. Horus was the winner and the first state-god of a united Egypt.”
“And what in heaven’s name has all this got to do with Rebecca and red-haired kids in twenty-first century Scotland, not to mention the inhabitants of Easter Island?”
“Don’t worry, I’m getting there,” said Larry. “Horus became identified with the sun, with day, with light and the fertility of the Nile. With all things good.”
“And Seth?” asked Jim.
“Poor old Seth. He became god of the desert, its red colour and all the nasty things associated with the desert. All the things the ancient Egyptians feared – storms, thunder, wind, rain, destruction – things strange and unknown. The dark – the night. That was how he became the embodiment of all things evil. In effect, Seth became the bad god – and as a result, all red-haired people began to be feared, hated. Even sacrificed.”
“I had noticed that things tend to get stormy whenever Rebecca’s around,” said Jim dryly. “Come to think of it, there is distinctly something of the Red Queen about her, isn’t there? And you say she’s supposed to be descended from Cleopatra. No surprise there, then – Cleopatra certainly caused plenty of trouble.”
“Hey! You’d better be careful what you say, Jim,” laughed Larry. “If you offend a Red Queen, ‘Off with his head!’ are the words that come to mind.”
“I’m quaking in my boots,” said Jim. “But what were you saying about Seth and Horus? You’re not actually suggesting they’re battling it out now in the twenty-first century, are you?”
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking,” replied Larry. “And I’m serious about our old friend Neferatu. I’m convinced he’s involved.”
“Involved in what, exactly?”
“That’s what we’ve got to find out,” said Larry.
Jim drew up outside the hotel reception and parked the car. They hurried off to their rooms.
Larry was still squeezing things into a suitcase as Jim stood behind him, already packed. The television was on.
“Ready?” Jim asked.
“Just about,” Larry replied. Just then a news flash on the television made them stop in their tracks.
“It now looks certain that the Earth is about to undergo a dramatic pole switch. According to scientific advisers, this could happen at any moment, as the Earth’s magnetic field continues to weaken. Electricity supplies have already been disrupted in some parts of the country, and some electronic communications are breaking down.
The government has put out the following statement: ‘Due to the increase in solar radiation, some people may suffer power failure. However, we are installing emergency systems in major population centres, to ensure key services are maintained. The resulting solar radiation may affect electronic communication systems such as satellite navigation, global positioning systems, television, radio and mobile phone networks. The government wishes to assure everyone…”
; At that moment, the announcer himself was interrupted by a loud hiss of interference. Then the picture disintegrated, leaving only a loud crackling noise.
Larry checked the radio and the hotel phone; neither was working. However, just as he put back the receiver, the television sprang back into life.
The newsreader, caught off-guard, was looking to the side and seemed to be receiving a message from off-camera. He turned back to the camera. “We apologise for the break in transmission. Here is the rest of the news. Orkney has cut off all transport communications, while the disappearance of around fifty children is being investigated. The police authorities are not allowing anybody to enter or leave the islands, except in the case of emergencies.
There are reports coming in of widespread intimidation and bullying in Scotland. So far the victims have been people with red hair. The Home Office has put out a statement that any red-haired person who feels concerned about his or her safety should report to the nearest police station. As soon as we receive more…” At that point, the television picture and sound disappeared completely.
“What on earth is going on?” said Larry.
“The government has just made sure that there’s going to be a general panic. You’ll see,” said Jim. “Do they really think redheads are going to report to police stations? It’ll only make them more paranoid than ever.”
“Great,” said Larry. “And how the hell do we get to Orkney, now? Try Rebecca’s mobile again.”
Jim keyed in and listened. “No signal – and we don’t even know where she is.”
“Well, we’d better do something, and fast,” said Larry. “Rebecca’s obviously in danger now. We have to get to her before Neferatu does – if he hasn’t already, that is.”
“I don’t think we’re going to get much help from the police,” said Jim. “I really can’t see them swallowing your Neferatu story.”
“Just let me think,” said Larry. “How about if we were to deliver something?”
Jim looked blank.
“Emergency equipment, for instance,” said Larry.
“Such as what?”
“Electrical equipment, for example. Generators. The government is talking about power cuts, and I don’t see Orkney being spared.”
“Great idea,” said Jim. “But where do you propose getting a load of generators from?”
“How about the Archaeology Department? The generators we use on digs? There’s a shed full of them – they won’t notice if we borrow a few for a while. We could go via the Scrabster-Stromness ferry – that one’s the quietest. But we must hurry. Before there’s a complete shutdown.”
“We should take a compass as well,” said Jim. “I have a feeling we’re going to need one.”
CHAPTER 65
The white van loaded with mobile generators headed out of Aberdeen for the long haul to Scrabster at the extreme north of the Scottish mainland, and the ferry port for Orkney. Jim took the first part of the drive, with Larry opting to navigate.
“There’ll probably be a big exodus of people with red hair,” said Jim. “I imagine they’ll want to get together for safety, when they see what’s happening. And there’ll probably be plenty of other people on the move, too. They’ll be heading for the big cities, – Glasgow, Edinburgh and the like – in the hope they’ll be power supplies there, especially over Christmas. It could be chaos soon, with a big demand for any sort of transport.”
Steady lines of cars were streaming south, laden with passengers and luggage. “Looks as if it’s started already,” said Jim.
Heading north, Larry and Jim found they were virtually alone. Jim checked the fuel gauge. “We’re okay at the moment. But, you’ll see – there’ll be a run on petrol soon.” His prediction proved true. As they passed north of the town of Keith, there were cars queuing at a garage on the opposite side of the road.
“And just look at the price. It’s twice normal already,” exclaimed Larry.
“Hey, just look at the man guarding the pumps,” replied Jim. The man was holding a double-barrelled shotgun.
They both fell into a troubled silence. It was broken by Jim. “If the power’s going down, we may even need the generators for ourselves.”
“Could be,” answered Larry, deep in thought.
They drove on through the afternoon, taking it in turns at the wheel. The roads south were becoming quieter, and they felt strangely isolated. It was not until evening that Jim pointed out the dim outline of buildings in the distance and the sea beyond.
“Okay, that’s Scrabster ahead. We should make straight for the ferry – if it’s running, that is. And even if there is one, we’re going to have to sound pretty convincing to get on it.”
“Just let me do the talking,” said Larry.
“So, somehow we get on it and we get to Orkney,” Jim continued. “Then what? How do we find Rebecca?”
“We don’t,” said Larry. “We find Neferatu first.”
“What! And how do you propose to find Neferatu? Not only do we not know where he’ll be, we don’t even know how he’s got there. Unless, of course, he’s managed to fly there in his own mysterious way, so to speak.” Jim fluttered his arms in a sardonic gesture.
“Well, I believe he’s somehow managed to get to Orkney,” said Larry, making an effort to ignore Jim’s negative attitude. “The evidence is too strong now. How he got there, I have no idea. Though I’m beginning to have a theory about it. You’re perhaps going to find this difficult to accept – but I believe he’s somehow managing to transport himself using certain icons, through which he can appear or disappear. In which case, the best thing we can do is hunt for possible icons and hope to find him that way.”
“Icons?” said Jim, taken aback. “What do you mean – icons? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t you see?” said Larry. “They’ve been a constant in all this. Whenever Neferatu appears, there’s always a symbol of Horus close by. He could be using symbols of Horus as icons in order to move around. That bird-man carving on Easter Island, for instance. And it was next to a sun observatory.”
He caught Jim rolling his eyes heavenwards. “No, no – hear me out, Jim. As far as I can see, this is the only possible explanation. If you remember, there was something very odd about Neferatu’s arrival on Easter Island. It was a Friday when we had that dinner. Neferatu said he’d arrived there on the Wednesday before. But Pablo said there had not been any flights that day. Neferatu then said it could have been the day before. But Rebecca told me later that there had been no flights that day, either. Neferatu actually had no idea when he had arrived.”
Larry paused for a moment for Jim to take the idea on board. “And then there was the Sun-Stone at Newton with the actual ‘sun-sign’ on it,” he continued. “That whole monument is dedicated to the God of Sun-Fire. In other words, Horus.”
He turned to Jim. “Can you remember exactly where you saw the eagle that attacked you in Orkney?” he asked.
“On Birsay,” said Jim. “We had just been looking at a symbol stone there. Okay – so there is an eagle carved on it.”
“Well, well, I think we could be on to something,” said Larry triumphantly. “Somehow, Neferatu is using icons to travel around physically. He must be using them like a portal to transport himself into another dimension.” He disregarded Jim’s look of incredulity. “Don’t you see? It’s the same as with Rebecca. She used icons as well, but to communicate with her ancestors in another dimension. Icons like the moai kava-kava figure on Easter Island and then, when we did the experiment, the picture of the serpent. Without actually knowing what she was doing, in all probability.”
“No, I don’t see at all,” said Jim. “It all sounds like mumbo-jumbo to me, highly unlikely, not to say impossible.”
“But there’s more,” said Larry. “The physical manifestations of Rebecca’s ancestors occurred close to ancestor stones, which were all associated with redheads – like the moai statue at Orongo and the Moon-Stone at Newt
on. Those manifestations needed the right portals as well.”
“Well, I’ll just take your word for it,” said Jim. “But – okay, okay – let’s go to Birsay and have a look. If we actually manage to get to Orkney, that is.”
CHAPTER 66
They caught sight of the ferry as they approached the docks. There were none of the usual queues of cars and Jim drove cautiously right down on to the quayside, expecting to be challenged. They could see a lorry driving up the ramp ahead of them. As it disappeared on to the boat, an official made to shut the gates.
“Leave this to me,” said Larry, and jumped out of the van. He strode confidently over to the official. “Sorry we’re late,” he said.
The official looked surprised. “Sorry, sir, emergency supplies only.”
“Special request from the Chief of Police in Kirkwall. Generators. He wants them installed at the police station immediately.”
“Can’t say I was expecting anything else. Have you got the paperwork?”
“No. We were told it was an emergency. We’ve just rushed up all the way from Aberdeen,” said Larry.
The official hesitated. “Well, I don’t know about that.”
“Well, do you want to tell the Chief of Police you wouldn’t let me on board, or shall I?” said Larry tersely, as he reached for his phone. He then realised it probably wouldn’t work, anyway.
At that moment, a deckhand on the boat leaned over the rail. “Ready when you are.”
The official relented. “Okay. But I’ll have to check what you’ve got in there.”
Jim drove the van over and opened up the doors. The official checked the generators. “All right,” he said. “Drive on.”
As the van was secured into position, Larry smiled with satisfaction at Jim. “Coffee – food. Let’s see what we can get.”
The boat, not surprisingly, was almost deserted, and the only food and drink on offer was from vending machines. Going on deck as the boat left port, they leaned against the rail, coffees and snacks in hand.