The Golden Falcon

by David C. Clark

  Our proposal for the restoration of Pharaoh Siptah’s tomb was radical and ran into a not unexpected degree of resistance from the Board’s traditionalists. When called upon to address the Directors, I put my case quite simply. After outlining the engineering protocol, supported by visual imagery and a geological survey, I made the unequivocal statement that the lower chambers of KV47 would ultimately collapse leading to the failure of the overhanging limestone belt with catastrophic results and the possible total loss of the tomb, unless the remediation proposal was accepted in full. Then, I went on the attack and asked if any of the Board members had a better way of avoiding this disaster, as our team could always be swayed by a well thought out alternative.

  My father, sensing I had inadvertently opened the door to divisive discussion, rose to his feet. He endorsed my statements and pointed out the issue was not one of archaeological ethics but of saving an ancient monument from certain destruction. Dad was amongst those who believed you walked softly but carried a big stick. More than once, he had lectured me about the need to cover a mailed fist with a velvet glove, warning that the wearer must always be prepared to remove the glove when circumstances warranted a display of force. In top gear, my father was a formidable machine and as he said, fortunate favours the bold.

  When it came to voting, there was total agreement about fitting tombs with protective devices, a surprising degree of unanimity about opening Queen Hatshepsut’s tomb to the world of extreme adventurers after its restoration and only a brief flurry of opposition about the plan to re-build the lower stages of King Siptah’s mausoleum. As expected,words like ‘fraud’, ‘fake’ and ‘lacking veracity’ passed across the table but, before serious dissension broke out, Yousef reverted to the computer images and showed the meeting what the tomb would look like if the ceilings collapsed. The simulated presentation proved to be decisive, as the graphic designer had put in a number of human figures crushed by a rock fall, which caused the Minister of Tourism to wince. He had already handled the shocked international reaction to the horrific terrorist attack at Deir el-Bahari in 1997 and the damage to his country’s reputation as a safe destination for tourists.

  This was a better and faster result than we had hoped for. I knew from bitter experience that once politicians started to push their own objectives, projects bogged down for years in reports, meetings and review committees. Abdullah winked wickedly at me at the end of the meeting, so I gathered there had been some pre-meeting haggling and horse-trading.

  Several months would pass before we could bring our equipment to the sites and sign up labour and contractors but I was immensely gratified by the outcome as it vindicated months of research and planning. At Cairo Airport, after I bade my father farewell with an expression of filial appreciation, I experienced the first real stirrings of excitement. Finally, we could take ourselves from the world of plans, documents and meetings and move into the realm of practical matters – steel, concrete, stone, sweat, dirt and the satisfaction that comes from seeing something develop under our hands.

  Chapter 14 – A KING AND A PRINCESS

  In practical terms,the engineering concept for the Siptah tomb was simple. The first stage required stabilisation of the shale mass. The major, and most controversial, element was the proposal to create a reinforced concrete burial chamber and line it, and the newly hardened surfaces up to the pillared hall, with limestone in lieu of the original facing of Esna shale. Making the result look like ancient work employed handicraft more than science.

  Shale is friable, lacks cohesion and strength. In the Valley it is a thick layer sandwiched between an upper stratum of limestone and the underlying Dakhla chalk. Soon after a chamber is quarried into shale, margins begin to fret and, with the passage of time, it crumbles into the excavation. The danger of working in shale attracted a host of unfavourable comments from archaeologists. Burton, reporting on Ayrton’s discovery of Siptah’s tomb, wrote ‘Ayrton penetrated as far as the second chamber, but owing to the bad state of the rock, he abandoned it as being most unsafe to work’.

  One of our engineers reduced the complexity of our task in stating that all we were doing was ‘building a box in the middle of a hole and filling the hole with gunk’, a description that wouldn’t win awards for technical excellence After removing the sarcophagus with its lid and digging out the loose debris, isocyanate adhesive was pressure injected - this consolidated the walls into a solid mass an earthquake could not shatter. Then, riggers, using steel reinforcement bar and shuttering, erected the new burial chamber, storeroom, gateway and pillar armatures. Once Richard had signed off on the integrity of the installation, high strength concrete was pumped into the shuttering.

  Nothing we did was rocket science though I had to admit, when the shuttering came off, the picture was not beautiful. Images of fortifications readily came to mind and there were some tense moments when Council Governors arrived on an inspection tour. The few who had voiced dismay at the concept of a re-build, became very vocal at the sight of the concrete walls and shells and it took some forceful persuasion from Abdullah and Yousef to calm down hot tempers, with assurances the final results would vindicate their acceptance of a radical re-construction. Once our guests departed, more concrete was pumped into the voids between the old walls and the new structure so that not even an atomic bomb could move the burial chamber. Like the pharaohs, we hoped to build for eternity!

  Once the crudity of mass concreting was behind us, the aesthetics were addressed. The new surfaces were to be lined with hand chipped limestone plates. Each plate had to be sawn with high precision, especially the pieces used to re-create the vaulted ceiling. Richard was impressed with the stone merchant, with whom he developed a solid friendship. He was assured each plate would be shaped to Richard’s exact measurements and he guaranteed that his masons would texture the faces with bronze chisels and wooden mallets, insisting the stone would look just like the work of his remote ancestors.

  Elsewhere, Michael’s teams began installing deflection barriers around tomb entrances. The structural steel beams to replace the old timbers in KV16 arrived from Cairo with a set of hydraulic jacks and Roger was soon at work securing the damaged ceiling. Wilson, our expert in the installation of reinforcement and concrete, passed his days between KV47 and KV20, working like a navvy. Even Elizabeth ventured out of the office and showed a surprising dexterity with nail guns. But it was Richard who was in his element. He would study the rock, run his hands over it, drill a hole and reach for a rock bolt, which he inserted and tightened with a tenderness that was almost intimate. He caught me smiling as I watched him gentle a heavy torque wrench around the nut on a bolt’s threaded shank

  “Wee man, stop your smirking and come here to learn from a master.”

  “I was not smirking. I was watching you handling the wrench like you would a woman.”

  “And she is. Listen to the rock as I apply tension.”

  “What am I listening for?”

  “The rock sighs with pleasure as the bolt expands deep within her. When the sound of pleasure turns to one of pain I stop. Too much tension and the rock will crack. Just enough and I secure her from failure.” I thought the man has had too much sun. He turned the wrench, I put my ear to the rock face and heard nothing more than a rasping sound and the tiniest squeak.

  “You hear the squeak?” I nodded. “Now listen.” He applied more pressure and I heard a grinding, crackling sound. He swiftly released the tension a fraction and the squeak returned.

  “Too much hurt her. A little less pressure and she sings again. I know you think I am daft about rock mechanics but, despite your cynicism, rock is alive and must be treated as such. Now you try.” He pushed another bolt into a hole and handed me the torque wrench. “Gently. Listen closely. Get this right and you will never cause a bloody lot of rock to come tumbling down on our heads.”

  There is always something new to learn in life as I found out when trying to solve the problem of a canopy design to shield
tomb entrances. An otherwise simple engineering task was complicated by a desire not to alter the overall appearance of the Valley. Anyone who has visited the place, or seen photographs, will know entrances to many tombs are blindingly obvious as there is usually some form of modern shallow wall built around them to deflect flood waters. Other, less important, tombs have no meaningful protection at all. Nobody wanted the canopies to look like a collection of open beach umbrellas or tents so the optimum solution would be one that was unobtrusive and blended into the landscape. Ideas were conceived and discarded and we were getting a little desperate when Yousef suggested we give the project to the Faculty of Architecture students.

  Yousef’s recommendation proved to be a winner. Richard and I flew up to Cairo to meet the senior year students he had assembled and we spent an afternoon discussing the problems of achieving an effective design. We didn’t expect to hear from the students for some time so we were surprised when they came back within the week with a request for a second meeting. As we had been detained in Cairo, it was convenient to meet them again. Their spokesman, Mahmoud Zahlan kicked off.

  “We are familiar with the Valley’s perspective as part of the second year course was a tour of the royal valleys. As young Egyptians, we share your concerns about the lack of attention given to the tombs and we are all grateful you have provided us with this opportunity to do something to protect part of our nation’s heritage.”

  “It is our pleasure. What have you come up with?”

  Mahmoud’s twin sister, Tamaam, a very attractive young woman with the alluring almond shaped eyes possessed by so many Arab women, replied. “You told us about the radical approach to King Siptah’s tomb and we assumed you might accept an equally radical suggestion about this matter? You want to fit canopies up over the entrances whilst making them unobtrusive. Ideally, they should be almost invisible. Is that correct?” Richard and I nodded in agreement.

  “We can design each canopy so it becomes an integral part of the environment, irrespective of the location and shape of an entrance. They will be cast in aluminium to a profile specific to a particular entrance and, as you both extolled the virtues of adhesives,we believe that skilled masons could glue a layer of stone and sand onto the casting’s outer shell. With a careful matching of material from the surrounding area, the canopy, when closed, should blend, unobtrusively, into the background.”

  I responded encouragingly. “Yes, that’s an excellent idea but the canopy has to project well over the entrance otherwise water will still flow into the entrance. We can build channels around the tombs to deflect water as it pours down the escarpment but unless the canopy is built out far enough, water will just flow over its top and cascade straight into the entrance.”

  Mahmoud asked “Is money an issue?” Yousef, ever practical, replied “Money is always an issue. Surely that message has been taught at the University?”

  “Of course, but the next part of our proposal will be a little more expensive. You said you need to install water tight doors to stop water penetration. We can do away with that expense by having the canopies hinged like clam shells, so that the lower edge can be dropped to allow ingress to the tombs or be so constructed that they retract completely into the area around each entrance.”

  Tamaam elaborated “Some of the tomb entrances are mere holes in the ground of the type seen in KV34 and KV22. Others are quite massive and we don’t see the need for any retractable protective canopy. We believe those with the really big entrances need only have internal barrier doors, fitted with water detection sensors, that will automatically close the doors when and if it rains. Let me show you.” She grabbed drawing paper and sketched the canopy concept. Individually shaped to completely fit over a specific entrance and hinged in the middle, with the halves driven by hydraulic pistons, the clam shell would close under threat of water intrusion. In dormant tombs, the canopy would remain locked down until someone wanted to investigate them.

  Mahmoud added “With sufficient funding, it is technically possible that the entire canopy can be designed to retract into the rock, thus hiding it from view. You need only to excavate cavities at the sides of an entrance to embed the mechanism and its housing. There may still be a need for further barrier doors but at least the obscure tombs will be protected from water and vandals. Our group think these ideas meet all the objectives you described.”

  Yousef was overjoyed. “Gentlemen, what did I tell you about my boys and girls? People, this is a brilliant suggestion. I am prepared to delegate some Council engineers to assist you in preparing detailed plans and a cost analysis for both options. Dennis, what do you think?”

  “This idea is quite an innovative solution. What you propose is almost the same principle employed in the Barricade on the Thames, where the flood gates come up out of the water on hydraulic pistons. The idea is workable, the clam shells would be largely unobtrusive, especially if they are coated with the surrounding rock scree. If we co-op your students, the individual canopy designs won’t be expensive. Ladies and gentlemen, can some of you get time off from your studies to come down to Luxor at our expense?”

  “We can fly down at the end of the semester in a few weeks. It would great to come on another field trip.” said Tamaam. My pulse unexpectedly quickened.

  Yousef interjected. “No, Dennis, I think we can find some spare money in our budgets. Arrangements will be made for accommodation and air tickets at the Council’s expense. Congratulations, I am really impressed with your idea and together we will make it work.”

  After further discussion, we left some very excited students with Yousef discussing their travel plans and a meeting with his engineers. I was a bit unsettled by the effect Tamaam had on me and, when I made a casual remark to Richard about how attractive she was, he grabbed my arm. “You seem to have made a big impression on that young woman, Dennis. I am a keen observer of the female species and I suspect there is something going on behind those beautiful eyes.” To my surprise, I blushed.

  “Ah, laddie, I see you have also been smitten. You had better be careful otherwise those eyes will suck you in like a man falling into quicksand, you lucky devil.”

  “Richard, don’t be ridiculous. It is nothing. Yes, she is a very attractive and intelligent woman but there is no room in my life now for romance.” I replied, the blush heating my cheeks.

  “Very sad, Dennis, very sad. A young man, full of life and virility has no time for women. Perhaps I should send you to the mummification experts and prepare a tomb for your body?”

  “Richard, we have a plane to catch.” I replied hailing a taxi. He gave me a knowing wink as we got in. “Did you get her phone number,” he said with a smirk “or was that beyond your engineering skills, my wee man?”

  “Well, as a matter of fact I did get her number as I am sure she and Mahmoud will have a few questions before they fly to Luxor.”

  “You’re not as daft as I thought. And did she get your number?”

  I replied somewhat sheepishly “Ah, yes, she did ask for it as she also thought there might be technical matters on which we could consult. She is only a final year student and there will be practical niceties she and her team need to explore.”

  “I see. Of course, she could always consult the engineers Yousef will delegate so I don’t expect the pair of you will have much to talk about in the next few weeks, laddie. What a shame. You could always ring her and ask her to have dinner with you when she is in Luxor. Now, I would class that as a technical matter, don’t you think, though one well within even your limited abilities.”

  Richard was obviously enjoying my embarrassment. On the flight to Luxor, I thought about how to make the first call and what I would say. It occurred to me that I was behaving like a teenager hoping to make his first date, which was totally ridiculous.

  Before we started clearing out the fretted limestone and shale, Yousef sent his conservation specialist down to remove some fragments of the original decorations. The Frenchman who mastered the
art of translating hieroglyphics, Jean Francois Champollion, had intentionally severed the door jambs at the bottom of the steps leading to King Seti’s “Hall of Beauties”, arguing it was better to take these decorations out of the tomb and preserve them in Paris than to see them destroyed in situ by tourists. Unhappily, the Frenchmen were not the only people to deface tombs in this manner and we needed to preserve as much of the original artwork as we could.

  As soon as the new limestone plates arrived, they were installed on metal brackets fitted to the irregular walls in the upper levels of the tomb and then textured. Our trusty stone merchant employed a small tribe of masons who did this work with a degree of skill now rare in the West. When finished, the fresh surfaces had the same texture and irregularity found in an original hand cut excavation. The results were amazing and far exceeded our expectations.

  The entire project took eighteen months and we achieved in that period what the original builders would have taken at least five years to finish. Many archaeologists have visited the renovated tomb, commenting favourably and the public response has been enthusiastic. At the formal re-opening, it was difficult to remember the Minister of Tourism’s trenchant opposition to the restoration, judging by the credit he claimed for himself. Our team had the satisfaction of receiving the personal thanks of the President at a private dinner in our honour but it was my father’s remark that gave me the most pleasure. His simple “You have made your mother and I very proud.” almost brought me to tears.

  The results were spectacular. All the lower chambers, corridors, gates, piers and side rooms had been completely rebuilt and even though the appearance of the new work was immediately obvious, Pharaoh Siptah’s tomb would stand as a tribute to ancient and modern technology for many more centuries. Yousef thought it feasible a team might be assembled in the future to chisel and paint a completely new set of decorations in the lower levels to blend into those in the upper levels whilst Abdullah was considering the desirability of bringing the mummified body of Siptah from the Cairo Museum and restoring it within the sarcophagus, which had been moved back into the burial chamber.