Four Ways to Pharaoh Khufu

by Alexander Marmer

  “No, I think you touched on all the main points.”

  “So, what kind of treasures are we going to find inside the Great Pyramid?” he asked.

  “We’re not even there yet, and you’re already dreaming of treasure?”

  Michael grinned.

  “OK, let’s see,” said Anna, flipping through the pages in her book until she found the right page. “Obviously Pharaoh Khufu hasn’t been audited yet,” she frowned comically at him, “but we can estimate. From Tutankhamun’s tomb located in the Valley of the Kings, Howard Carter pulled out twelve quintals of gold, not including jewels and ceramics. But the young Pharaoh Tutankhamun was a ‘poor’ boy in comparison with the great pharaohs of the Old Kingdom.” Anna fumbled through several pages, “Then, from the tomb of Khufu’s mother, Queen Hetepheres, was found a canopy bed, two armchairs, a carrying chair, and several chests, all covered in gold. The legs of the beds and chairs were in the form of lions' paws and showed accurate anatomical features including the muscles and blood vessels pulsating under the skin. In addition, twenty bracelets made of an alloy of gold and silver, and decorated with turquoise and azure stones were found. All these were in a small sized tomb. Now, imagine the assortment of riches that would be in the thirty chambers of her son, Pharaoh Khufu.”

  “Thirty chambers?”

  “Thirty chambers of parti-colored syenite, full of precious gems and treasures galore, and rare images and utensils and costly weapons, which are anointed with egromantic unguents, so that they may not rust until the day of Resurrection. Therein, also, are vessels of glass, which bend and break not, containing various kinds of compound drugs and sympathetic waters.”

  “Whence such accuracy?”

  “That’s what Queen Scheherazade says in the story of ‘The Caliph Al-Mamun and the Pyramids of Egypt’ from the famed stories, One Thousand and One Arabian Nights.”

  Michael rubbed his hands with pleasure and grinned at Anna.

  “You are not afraid of Pharaoh Khufu’s revenge?” Anna suddenly asked.

  “What do you mean? He’s been dead for a while.”

  “I mean the Curse of the Pharaohs. You know, anyone who disturbs the peace of the pharaohs?”

  “Blah blah blah. No, I'm not afraid. I do not believe in simple coincidences. Everything is happening for a reason. Kirilov uncovered the Great Pyramid’s secret and advanced the time of uncovering the great mysteries. That is what may change the fate of our civilization.”

  The instant the wheels touched the runway, the passengers of the plane erupted in applause. Michael smiled at Anna, “Welcome to Egypt!”

  Chapter 43

  Cairo International Airport, Egypt

  Monday, September 25

  11:17 a.m.

  As the plane made its way to the terminal, Anna pondered about stepping foot in the mysterious country where her father had been murdered, realizing for the first time that she felt nervous. What am I doing here? After her experiences with Seth and the Medjay, she knew she simply feared the unknown. Who would be watching for her? Who would be chasing her?

  The flight attendant’s kind voice, speaking in Egyptian, startled Anna. She turned and looked at the flight attendant, who nodded at her. Looking around in confusion, Anna realized that the last few passengers were disembarking the aircraft. Michael must have gotten in line thinking she was behind him.

  “Thank you,” she muttered sheepishly. She stepped to the aisle and grabbed her small bag from the overhead bin.

  So, the main thing now is to look down, she thought, otherwise, the tears rolling down my face will make it difficult to see the steps. I don’t want to fall down. As if in a daze, she moved slowly along the cabin toward the exit in the hopes of waking up in her own bed in her family home in Germany. She could hear her mom, chastising her father, scolding him about spending so much time at work. If only she knew back then where her father was really spending his evenings.

  The bright sunlight almost blinded Anna as she approached the exit door of the plane. Michael’s smiling face was sneaking in from the top of the ladder. He reached up for her bag and descended ahead of her. Blocking the sunlight with one hand as her other hand firmly grasped the railing; she slowly descended the stairs.

  As soon as they stepped inside the Cairo airport, the chaos and apparent lack of organization gave them an appropriate introduction to the country. Michael had gone through customs before, so the process was far speedier than it would have been if she had been on her own. But the bedlam, disorder and inefficiency going through customs gave Anna a brand new appreciation for German’s orderliness and efficiency.

  Anna and Michael picked up their luggage and made their way out of the terminal building. English-speaking touts, middlemen who make a commission for walking customers out to a taxi driver, swarmed them. While Michael was negotiating the price with one of the touts, Anna heard her name.

  “Anna!” a male voice cheerfully exclaimed. Startled, she looked around, wondering who could be calling her name.

  “Anna!” The voice was familiar. This time, she spotted a heavy-set man wearing glasses with grey hair bristling in different directions. When he saw her looking, he started smiling and waving as he strode quickly towards her. He wore an old, white T-shirt with a faded red lion, Dusseldorf’s mascot. The long shirt almost hid his gray linen shorts, which were soiled in several spots. He exclaimed in German, “Anna, I’m so pleased to see you!” Suddenly he was embracing her in a tight, bear hug: his small backpack bumping into her.

  Confused, Anna took a step back. She had not anticipated the man’s sweaty hug, despite his familiar voice. The stranger held onto her shoulders and smiled familiarly at her.

  After fending off several touts, Michael approached them. “Is everything all right?” he asked confused, looking at Anna.

  “Ummm,” said Anna, staring at the disheveled man.

  The man stepped back scowling, “I should have known I wouldn’t get a warm welcome from you,” the stranger said, visibly disappointed.

  Suddenly she remembered the voice. “Karl-Heinz?” She asked, as memories of her dad’s old friend and partner flooded her mind.

  “Ja!” The man replied enthusiastically. His smile seemed odd to her.

  Of course, Karl-Heinz, she thought. He used to come to their apartment often, but it had been about three years since she had last seen him. She remembered him as being taller with bright brown eyes. She had always considered him to be an elegant man, who even at his age always dressed with taste. Apparently a lot had changed since those memorable times. His signature, elegant style had disappeared without a trace. He had put on a great deal of weight as well.

  “Karl-Heinz Fischer?” She was surprised to see him in Cairo, of all places.

  He smiled oddly at her and declared, “Well, who else?”

  “Well, it’s been a long time,” Anna stuttered. “I’m sorry; I’m just surprised to see you here.” She turned to Michael, switching to English, “Michael, please meet my father’s old friend, Karl-Heinz Fischer.”

  “Nice to meet you Mister Fischer. I’m Michael Doyle,” he said shaking his hand.

  “Oh, please,” said Fischer, switching to English, “you can call me Karl and the pleasure is mine.”

  “Karl, Michael is American and he is my friend,” said Anna. “So what are you doing here in Cairo? Did you hear about my father’s death?”

  “Yes, I was so shocked,” said Fischer, solemn now and embracing her with one arm, “He was my colleague here. We were restoring the Great Pyramid.”

  “That’s exactly the place where he was poisoned.”

  “Poisoned?” Fisher removed his arm and stepped back, “He wasn’t poisoned; he died of a heart attack.”

  “Well, that’s not entirely true,” Michael broke into the conversation, noticing that Fischer looked at him in a strange, unfriendly
way. “I was with him inside the Great Pyramid when he told me he was poisoned.”

  “Well, he must’ve been confused,” said Fischer, “I saw the hospital report.”

  “Karl,” said Anna, “I don’t know what to believe anymore. But how did you find me?”

  “I called your mother and she told me that you were on your way to Egypt after making a short stop in Russia. What were you doing in Russia?”

  “Well,” Anna started, glancing at Michael as he barely-noticeably shook his head to stop her, “we met one man who had a very interesting theory about the Great Pyramid.”

  Michael dropped his shoulders in frustration.

  “Wow, really?” asked Fischer in amazement. “Anna, where is the map your father mailed to you?”

  “What?” Anna exclaimed, bewildered. “How could you possibly know that?”

  “I know everything,” said Fischer, slowly grinning.

  Anna’s heart sank. “He didn’t send me a map!” She scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t lie to me!” Fischer snapped, his face turning a bright red color. He stepped closer to her and threatened, “You will give me that map and tell me what I need to know!”

  Some of the touts started watching the three white people with interest. Cab drivers leaning on their cars were watching as well.

  “Hey!” Michael barked, “Take it easy, man! She doesn’t have a map.”

  “Oh, so then you have the map?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Then where is it?” Fischer’s voice was a harnessed growl.

  “Karl, please,” Anna pleaded, taking a step backwards, “you’re acting really weird.” She noticed the small crowd watching them closely.

  “Oh, you think I’m acting weird? No, that’s not acting weird,” his face was curled into a snarl. Keeping his eyes riveted on hers, he reached inside his backpack. He pulled out a hand-held six-shot silver revolver, hefting it up into the palm of his hand so that it reflected the brilliant sunlight. “This is what acting weird looks like,” he snapped, brandishing the revolver. The crowd scattered. Fischer pointed his revolver at Anna, and Michael made a quick move to shield her.

  Fischer growled, “I want that map.”

  “Karl, we really do not have a map,” said Anna, trying to remain calm, “My father didn’t send me any map. What are you talking about?”

  “The map to the location of the stele!” Fischer shouted angrily.

  “How do you know about the stele?” asked Anna, finally coming to her senses.

  “It was my stele! I found it, and your father stole it from me, and now I want it back! I will give you one minute! If you don’t give me that map, I’ll shoot you both!”

  “Karl, please calm down! My father didn’t send me a map.”

  “Thirty seconds,” Fischer warned.

  “Mister Fischer,” Michael implored, “we can do this together. You, Anna and me: we all can try to find the stele. You don’t need to do this.”

  “Time’s up,” Fischer announced coldly.

  “Look,” Michael announced, standing his ground. “I have the map! Leave Anna out of it! I stole the map from the package her father sent her.”

  Anna was shocked, because she was the one who had opened the package. Then it dawned on her that Michael was bluffing.

  “Now you will die,” Fischer snarled, pointing the gun at Michael.

  BAM! Anna’s whole body shook and quavered when she heard the nerve-wrenching sound of the bullet blast. She closed her eyes as her heart raced to astronomical speeds. There was no sound. Then arms were embracing her in a strong hug. She looked up to see Michael, unharmed.

  “It’s over,” Michael whispered in her ear.

  “But how?” she asked in bewilderment. Anna looked in Fischer’s direction. He was now lying on the ground, blood pooling under his hip. A group of local policemen surrounded him; one was putting handcuffs on him. Suddenly, all the noise of her surroundings rushed at her. She could hear the bellows of Fischer in pain, the roar of the nearby airplanes and distant traffic, and the murmurings of the crowd. As they lifted Fischer up and walked him away, one of the policemen, a middle-aged, balding man, approached them.

  “Detective Hussein, right?” asked Michael.

  “Yes, Detective Ashraf Hussein,” the detective replied with a heavy Middle Eastern accent.

  “Michael, you know this man?” Anna asked, her voice rising.

  “Yes,” Michael said calmly, “we met during my first visit to Egypt.”

  “Mister Doyle,” the detective said pleasantly, “my Inspector and I would like to have a word with you and your lady friend sometime later this evening.”

  “Yes, of course. This is Anna and she is Schulze’s daughter.”

  “Madam, nice to meet you,” said detective. He winked at Michael, “and we know who she is.” He pulled out a small notebook and pen, “Where will you be staying?”

  “The Windsor Hotel,” said Michael. “The very hotel her father, Mr. Schulze, was staying at.”

  “Thank you for saving our lives,” said Anna, shaking.

  “That’s our job,” the detective replied modestly. “We’ve been watching Fischer for the past few days, and thanks to the Almighty Allah, we arrived on time today. Plus we witnessed Fischer’s confession. That will put him in jail for a long time.”

  “Thanks again detective,” said Michael, shaking the detective’s hand.

  “Don’t leave the hotel. The Inspector and I will stop by around six o’clock,” the detective said as he walked away. Michael and Anna waved good-bye and turned to find a taxicab, this time without any help from the touts.

  Chapter 44

  Cairo, Egypt

  Monday, September 25

  1:30 p.m.

  Egypt is essentially sand, rocks and sand again. Its only “strip of life” is the narrow Nile Valley, which gave birth to the Egyptian civilization. The whole truth about the current Egypt lies in its past, which literally feeds the country today.

  With a population of about ninety million people, Egypt consists of several ethnic groups: the Arabs who speak the Egyptian dialect of Arabic, the dark-skinned Nubians in the South and the many Greeks in Alexandria. The Arabs were not always an ethnic component of Egypt. Up until the seventh century there lived a very different kind of people who built thousands of wonderful monuments such as the pyramids of Giza and Saqqara, the temples of Luxor and the tombs of the pharaohs’ treasures. Some of these monuments have been found, while many have not.

  Remembering his previous taxicab rides, Michael advised Anna that riding in a taxi in Cairo would be the Egyptian equivalent of Russian roulette and recommended that either she closed her eyes or have nerves of steel. Anna breezily ignored his remarks as their taxi sputtered and wheezed through the gridlocked traffic. But when a gap suddenly opened up, the driver raced through it as they clutched their seat with a death grip. When the taxi slowed down, Anna simply said, “Wow,” as Michael chuckled. Meanwhile the cab driver smoked non-stop, jabbered on his phone and occasionally leaned out the window to abuse other drivers. It was then that Anna realized Michael had given prophetic advice. But, in the meantime, she enjoyed the views of Cairo slowly opening up in front of her. As traffic stopped and started, the city began to reveal itself layer by layer. Anna gazed in awe, eager to experience this distant and enigmatic land.

  Founded in the year 969, Cairo grew until it had absorbed all the neighboring cities and spread across the Nile. It is difficult to describe a third world country to someone who has never visited. Although full of modern technology, Egypt remains rich with tradition, culture and pharaoh-related superstitions. Cairo’s composition is like a patchwork quilt, composed of Muslim, Mamluk, Turkish, Coptic, Egyptian, English, French and modern Arab neighborhoods. A metropolis with sixteen million people, it is a chaoti
c city that truly never sleeps.

  As their cab entered Cairo’s downtown area, Anna was glued to the window, staring in amazement as hundreds of people walked along the road. Amidst all of this activity and people traffic, Anna was dumbfounded to see a camel carcass lying flat in the dirt, just skin and bones, and the people simply walking around it.

  Anna grabbed Michael’s attention, asking, “Why doesn’t anyone remove it?”

  “Camels are indeed beasts of burden in Egypt,” replied Michael, shaking his head in disbelief.

  Soon they were driving through Tahrir Square on its wide and busy traffic circle. They passed by the Mogamma, a fourteen-story governmental administrative office building, rumored to be a gift from the Soviet state after World War II. The roar of engines, however, drew their attention as a convoy of dark green armored trucks swarmed around the square, lining up around its entire perimeter. Anna and Michael gasped as Egyptian SWAT teams leapt onto the street armed with riot gear and automatic weapons. More armored trucks filled the side streets as the military readied itself to disperse the day’s planned protests and demonstrations.

  After they passed through the busy square, traffic began to recede. Ten minutes later, the cab zipped up next to the Windsor Hotel, an elegant building featuring colonial-style architecture. Built at the turn of the last century to serve as baths for the Egyptian royal family, the hotel also served as a colonial British officer’s club for many years before being turned into a hotel. At the turn of the nineteenth century the hotel held exquisite balls. There were beautiful dinners by candlelight after which the Arabs could dance with real European women, an unprecedented occurrence in Cairo at that time. Michael noticed that it was located just steps away from a market known as the Khan El Khalili Bazaar.