The Sphinx Scrolls

by Stewart Ferris

  ‘You’ll lead us into war and deprivation.’

  ‘Hocol’s dead. There’ll be wars soon. Who can stop them? And we’ll be ready. We’ll be first. The best form of defence is to attack.’

  ‘You’re crazy. How can wars help the world?’

  Halford kicked me at the mention of ‘crazy’.

  ‘I’m not out to help the world,’ explained Halford. ‘This is for my people. Your people. This is for Maya.’

  ‘For a traitor you sound quite patriotic. It’ll almost be a shame when my soldiers have to execute you,’ I said unconvincingly.

  ‘I regret to inform you,’ he replied, ‘that the execution will be your own. This is nothing personal, you understand. Well, perhaps it is a little. I cannot let you live, of that I am now sure. Take comfort from the good that will come from it.’

  * * *

  ‘OK, we get it,’ said Matt. ‘Jamel gets thrown in jail by Halford. We can skip the next bit – it’s just that one-eyed guy getting thrown in jail too. What’s his name?’

  ‘Sotay,’ said Ruby. ‘The leader of the doctors. He just lost an eye in the uprising, remember? I really think it’s a bad idea to leave anything out. We need it all in context.’ She looked vainly at her companions for a sign of agreement. ‘Fine. Whatever. I’ll start from the second part of scroll number five.’

  * * *

  SPHINX SCROLL # 05

  * * *

  As they took me away I saw the nearly completed statue of Hocol thunder to the ground in a downpour of rubble, killing a handful of the rebels who had instigated its demolition. Through the settling dust it became clear that the nearby buildings were decorated with flags carrying Halford’s symbol of a Sphinx, courtesy of a public relations campaign to convert allegiances to the new leader.

  The stained steel door of my new cell had not been long silent when it squeaked open to reveal Halford, flanked by guards.

  ‘What do you want, Halford?’

  ‘All the leaders are now in custody. They can do no more damage. What’s left of Sotay will share with you. The other cells are already full. Indicative of inadequate provision of cell space by the state during the last fifteen years, in my opinion.’

  ‘I should have built a cell for you long ago,’ I said, turning resolutely away from such insane arrogance.

  Halford produced a lump of chocolate from his pocket and childishly waved it under my nose. ‘Yummy,’ he murmured, eyes half-closed in mock ecstasy. He stepped back, making way for the guards to shove Sotay towards me. He was bound at the wrists, head bowed submissively, and literally covered in blood.

  ‘What happened to you?’ I asked.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ replied Sotay. ‘I have no further service to perform. I can’t help anyone here. My health is irrelevant.’

  ‘Does it hurt?’

  He sighed. A soft sound, but from such a disciplined stoic, it was as if he had howled in agony. I flinched in sympathy.

  ‘Yes, but I’m fine.’

  I crouched to look up at his face. The absence of an eye made it seem quite lop-sided.

  ‘My eye has gone completely,’ whispered Sotay without raising his head. ‘I was attacked with a knife and left for dead. Fortunately, they did not pierce the brain. I have cleaned out the socket.’ He spoke bleakly, but more out of sadness for the mentality of his attacker than for his own predicament.

  ‘That’s awful, Sotay.’

  ‘It is of no matter.’

  I helped Sotay to sit comfortably on the floor, then sat with him. Two of the nation’s most powerful men now had no more influence than the cockroaches with which they shared their cell. We had barely moved when a messenger from Halford entered the cell several hours later and handed me a letter.

  ‘Can you get us some water, please?’ I asked.

  ‘Sure, it’s the least I could do. Not much of a last wish, though, is it?’

  I froze. Last wish? I looked at the messenger for clarification, afraid to look at the words on the paper.

  ‘Won’t be long,’ he said, leaving us alone.

  I was in good physical shape, apart from the cuts and bruises to my face and body from the explosion, but they would heal completely given the chance. Now I knew that my wounds would never be given the opportunity to heal. I was holding my own death warrant.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Sotay, although he already knew.

  ‘A public execution will take place tomorrow.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘It doesn’t mention you, Sotay.’

  ‘I don’t care what happens to me, I only care for Maya.’

  ‘They’re going to put me beneath the rolling stone until my body is as flat as a bar of chocolate. Halford will then preserve my flattened remains and paste them to the wall of the city. To deter potential dissidents.’

  ‘Not even mummification? They can’t do that to you.’

  ‘They can’t stab you in the face either, can they?’

  * * *

  SPHINX SCROLL # 06

  * * *

  The cell walls breathed a dirty moisture into the room. Insects trying to scale the brickwork would slide down as if riding on the drips. Little sound penetrated the room, save for the occasional passing footsteps and the clicking of cockroaches.

  ‘Have you ever felt worse than this?’ I asked Sotay.

  Sotay looked quizzical.

  ‘Physically or psychologically?’

  How could he be so academically detached now, of all times?

  ‘The latter, Sotay,’ I explained wearily.

  ‘The country I love is facing destruction. Our people are growing up. They want to try to run things in a new way. It will fail, of course, and they know that deep inside. This is nothing to do with you, except that you were in power when it happened. No one could have foreseen or prevented it. We know that nothing in life is predictable, except its unpredictability.’

  ‘There’s a good chance that Maya’s instability will tempt a full Atlantan invasion,’ I whispered. ‘Or they may simply take the opportunity to wipe us out.’

  ‘Halford knows this, but I doubt he’ll do anything,’ said Sotay.

  ‘He’s the sort to press the button the moment he gets scared.’

  ‘Are you scared, Jamel?’

  I squirmed at the question. I had never been more scared, and concentrating on the fact made the terror rise in me.

  ‘If I could only get out of here, I could go to Atlantis and negotiate peace. If only to buy us time.’

  ‘You’d be a new Hocol,’ suggested Sotay.

  ‘That’s what we need. Halford’s leaving us open to attack from all sides.’

  ‘They say the Atlantans will settle for nothing less than full scale usurpation of our lands.’

  ‘They have to find somewhere to live. Everyone accepts that. Atlantis could be uninhabitable in a decade or two. Of course they’re going to fight for new lands. It is, however – or rather, it was – my job to ensure they don’t come here. I want to protect my people ... but they don’t want me to.’

  A muffled roar filtered into the cell, dislodging a tiny shower of drips from the ceiling and sending a brick crashing down close to me. There was shouting in the corridor, and running feet that came tantalisingly close to our door, but didn’t actually stop.

  ‘Pandemonium,’ murmured Sotay with a slight roll of his one good eye.

  The noises abated as suddenly as they had started, leaving an unsettling silence that seemed even more penetrating than the recent explosion. I picked up the dislodged brick and held it before me, my fingers gripping its slimy surface.

  ‘Move out of the way,’ I ordered. Sotay shuffled sideways.

  In all of my adult life I had been taught to use my brain rather than my hands. My pampered frame was far from muscular, looking all of its fifty-one years, but I now summoned all my strength at once and hurled the brick into the centre of the steel door.

  The shattered silence reassembled itself as the brick dust sett
led. I waited some moments to see if the noise had attracted anyone’s attention. When no one came, I went over to the door to inspect it closely.

  ‘I’m going to get out,’ I announced confidently, running my fingers along the slightly buckled steel cross-bar on the door. ‘Someone’s got to get out there and work for Maya. If I let them kill me they’ll be killing themselves too.’

  I tugged at the door, but the brick had caused no structural damage and the frame wasn’t even loose. I picked up the largest fragment of brick and banged it against the edge of the door, but it just broke in my hand, grazing my palm.

  ‘It’s not going to work, Jamel.’

  ‘It’s got to. I have to get out of here.’ I walked over to where I had been sitting and studied the hole in the ceiling from where the brick originally fell. The ancient brickwork was damp and decayed, and looked easy to demolish without tools, but only by jumping up was I able to reach it.

  ‘You’ll bring the ceiling down on us!’ protested Sotay.

  ‘There has to be a way out!’ I shouted, dodging a falling brick. I jumped up to grab another, but it held firm.

  ‘Hey – someone’s coming,’ called Sotay.

  I tried again to dislodge the brick.

  ‘I’m under a sentence of death, Sotay,’ I stated breathlessly. ‘I don’t care if they catch me.’

  ‘You don’t mean that. Sit down.’

  I quickly sat down as the door opened and a young woman peered in, overshadowed by the bulk of a man who was blocking the exit behind her. She pushed back her long, dirty hair to reveal a face that was extensively scratched and bleeding, as if she had been dragged violently through a bush. In her right hand was a large bag.

  ‘I’ll have to be quick,’ she announced, stepping into the cell and kneeling beside Sotay. ‘Things are rough out there, gentlemen.’

  ‘Who are you?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m a doctor. I expect Sotay doesn’t recognise me.’

  Sotay turned his eye to her. Every feature on her face blurred into the next, a mess of blood and localised swelling. She seemed oblivious to the pain, able to smile and breathe normally, totally calm and professional. Just as Sotay would have trained her to be.

  ‘Katia,’ he said softly.

  ‘Sotay, you’re going to be freed. Halford needs you. There have been horrendous casualties today. This is a spare medicine bag. They told me you were wounded, so take it. You’ll be down here for another hour. Patch yourself up.’

  ‘An hour, you say?’ verified Sotay.

  ‘That’s what they told me.’

  ‘Katia,’ I said, ‘how long have I got?’

  The shadow behind Katia moved. A throat cleared, and Katia backed out of the cell, avoiding my question.

  ‘Katia! Wait! You don’t understand what’s at stake.’ My voice faded to nothing, shut off by the bang of the slammed door and the retreating footsteps.

  Sotay silently checked the contents of the medicine bag. It was equipped with basic surgical tools, dressings and needles, but it also contained a range of medicines and gels. He rummaged carefully, then closed the bag.

  A reluctant raising of the eyebrows in the direction of the medicine bag was all I could do to offer my assistance in patching Sotay’s eye. There was no response.

  Sotay stared into the bag, saying nothing, before standing up abruptly and pacing the floor, as I had done moments before.

  ‘What is it?’ I asked.

  * * *

  ‘I think we’re coming up to the gory section,’ said Ruby. ‘I don’t mind fast-forwarding over that scene if everyone is happy to skip it?’

  ‘The bit where they transplant Jamel’s living eye into Sotay’s socket with no anaesthetic?’ asked Matt with a level of enthusiasm that was both surprising and disturbing. ‘You can’t miss that out. It’s the part I’ve been waiting for. The ultimate identity swap.’

  ‘I could cheerfully miss that and bash on to scroll seven,’ said Ratty. ‘When he writes about the scalpel heading for his eye it makes me feel acutely queer.’

  ‘To miss this scene would be to the philosophical detriment of us all,’ explained the Patient, ‘for it reads in the style of a Socratic dialogue, and no finer style of writing exists.’

  ‘Well, I don’t care about its Socratic structure,’ said Ruby. ‘Personally it makes me feel sick so I’m going to skip to the end.’

  * * *

  SPHINX SCROLL # 06 [CONTINUED]

  * * *

  Sotay withdrew a scalpel from the bag in a smooth movement, trying to avoid making the action appear sinister. He failed. I made a conscious effort to look at the room through two eyes, to see in three dimensions. Then I closed my ‘safe’ eye and took a look around me using only the condemned one. The room took on a new beauty, its intricacy and detail were suddenly wildly visually pleasing, the angular lines of the bricks flowing like poetry. Colour and light were streaming into my eye, filling it with aesthetic pleasures that it had never noticed before. A veil of moisture started to cloud the view as a tear formed.

  ‘Lie on your back, please, arms by your side. Look at the ceiling.’ Sotay knelt on one of my arms and jammed a piece of wood into my mouth. ‘I’m going to cover the other eye with a bandage.’ He reached over and prised my condemned eye open unnaturally wide. Although he did it swiftly and gently, even that hurt. I bit down on the wood so hard my teeth vibrated.

  Through my condemned eye, I just caught the glint of a silver blade before the lightning strike of agony turned it hideously wet and dark.

  * * *

  Ruby put the pile of papers down for a moment and looked at her friends. Matt was wide awake, grinning as if he was viewing his favourite horror movie. And Ratty – well, his eyes were already beginning to open. He had slumped forward on the kitchen table at the first mention of ‘scalpel’, but the colour was now returning to his cheeks and he seemed to be coming round.

  ‘Welcome back, Ratty,’ she whispered in his ear.

  He pretended to yawn and stretch.

  ‘How rude of me. So sorry. Do carry on.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Matt. ‘We’re at that part where Jamel feels like crap and Halford rants about his dreams of world domination. We should fast forward to the execution.’

  Ruby gave up her hope that this reading session would be sufficiently thorough to provide any real enlightenment. She flicked through some more pages and settled on the first reference to the apparatus of execution towards the end of the seventh scroll.

  * * *

  SPHINX SCROLL # 07

  * * *

  All eyes were drawn to the stone wheel, more than ten feet tall and as wide as the fattest man, in the centre of the arena. Wooden handles protruded from its sides, and the short track in front of it was of polished marble. The sharply defined shadows of the handles looked like sinister teeth waiting to devour Sotay. My ruined eye socket still hurt terribly, but it was nothing compared to the agony in my mind as I looked on the spectacle and knew it should have been me at the centre of attention.

  Just a few feet from the stone was a small platform with two wooden chairs. It was close – horribly close – to the stone, and it was to one of these seats that I was led. Halford indicated that I should sit on one, which I did, head bowed low in case someone should recognise me despite the bloody deformity of my face. The arena was soon filled to capacity with a bloodthirsty crowd eager to witness ‘my’ death. Their enthusiasm was both humbling and depressing. I felt shamed, desolate, unloved and irrelevant. The years I had spent being treated with grovelling respect, almost worshipped, seemed a lifetime away. I recognised now how fickle at heart was the populace.

  Halford stood in front of me, sneezed twice into his hands, blew his nose and addressed the crowd.

  ‘Citizens,’ he began, swinging round three hundred and sixty degrees to give an illusion of inclusivity, ‘I have called you here today to witness the execution of a traitor to the state of Maya, a man who has robbed you all of your prosperity,
a man who has sold out your country and thrown away every chance you had to make it great. As your new ruler, I must make it my first duty to cleanse our country by destroying the old leadership.’

  As he spoke, Sotay was being strapped to the rolling stone. His feet were tied to two of the wooden handles near the ground. Next, without the slightest sign of resistance, his hands were tightly bound to the handles near his waist. Then his knees were secured, followed by his thighs. A band was placed around his waist, another around his chest, and a loose one around his neck. He was barely able to move a muscle.

  ‘This day will be remembered and celebrated throughout history. You are all present at the dawn of a new hope, a new opportunity, a new Maya!’ Halford paused to allow the cheers to subside. ‘Is there anything you would like to say before I push the wheel, Jamel?’

  He thrust his face just inches from Sotay’s features, staring closely at him for fleeting moments in between facing the crowds. Sotay said nothing, did nothing. In my opinion, the only way he was able to get through the experience was by mentally dying minutes before the actual crushing. He had achieved a level of detachment from his body, already given it up for dead.

  ‘Very well. I shall now fulfil my duty and push the wheel.’

  * * *

  Ruby paused and looked at the assembled faces. To her surprise each one was paying complete attention to her, and no one asked for the next section to be glossed over. This was mildly disappointing since she knew there were some unpleasantly graphic descriptions of Sotay’s expiration coming up. She took a sip of water and cleared her throat, then continued with scroll number eight.

  * * *

  SPHINX SCROLL # 08

  * * *

  I didn’t want to look, but I couldn’t help myself. Revolting though it was, I couldn’t throw up because my stomach was so knotted. In any case, it would have caused suspicion if I had vomited because as a ‘doctor’ it would be assumed that I was accustomed to such sights. It was true that I had witnessed executions many times, but always on the side of the executioner and with a feeling of satisfaction that justice was being done. Helplessly watching an innocent friend and colleague die – and one who had volunteered his life in place of mine – put a wholly different perspective on it. I prayed that Halford would push the wheel quickly so that Sotay would not have to endure a prolonged demise.