Resurrection

by Arwen Elys Dayton

  Then Eddie and Pruit stepped into the pyramid, and they were alone. He could see the glow of anticipation on her face. He felt it himself, though he had been there many times before. Inside, they were forced to stoop, for the ceiling was low. After a few steps they were out of the sun and into the artificial yellow lights that ran along the walls.

  “This isn’t the original entrance,” Eddie explained as they made their way down the narrow entry corridor toward the intersection of the ascending and descending passageways. Though the tourist authority kept the pyramid clean, there was gritty dust and sand on the floor where they walked, blown in daily from the plateau, but it dwindled as they progressed farther inside. “The original entrance is the one you could see farther up the outer wall. Until Muslim times the pyramid was completely covered with white casing stones and no one knew the entrance was there.” They walked a few minutes in silence, and then he said, “That crystal you were wearing yesterday, where did you say it was from?”

  “It was a gift.”

  “From family?” he asked.

  “Yes, from family. Why?” Did he know something of Kinley technology? Or was he simply interested in the crystal because it looked unusual? It was difficult to tell.

  “I’m just curious. Do you know where it’s from?”

  “I didn’t ask.” With that, Eddie seemed to drop the subject.

  They reached the intersection of the passages and could almost stand up. “When it had its casing stones, the pyramid was perfectly smooth on the outside and bright white,” Eddie said. “Can you imagine how beautiful it must have been?”

  “Precisely geometrical.”

  “Even aligned to the Earth’s axis and the points of the compass.”

  Pruit smiled and nodded. As a beacon, it was a bit more impressive than she had expected. It appeared the survey crew did nothing halfway.

  “Of course the casing stones were pillaged to build Muslim Cairo, but it kept its original form for almost four thousand years.”

  He ducked into the ascending passage, which led up into the pyramid at an angle. The ceiling here was under four feet high, and they stooped low again, being careful of their heads. They walked on a wooden ramp with cross strips of wood nailed on as footholds. There was nothing to see here but the bare walls and their feet moving steadily beneath them. This passage continued upward for quite a long distance, uncomfortable to traverse stooped over as they were, and, at last, let them out onto a landing. From there, Eddie took her up a short flight of metal stairs installed by the tourist authority and into the Grand Gallery.

  “Wow.” The word fell from Pruit’s lips as she emerged into the gallery and gazed up at the corbeled walls rising above them. It was the first time she had found use for that slang word, and she thought it fit the situation quite well. On either side of them were courses of limestone monoliths. Each course overhung the course beneath it, so the walls steadily grew together as they reached toward the ceiling, nearly thirty feet above. In front of them, the floor led up toward the very center of the pyramid. The ramp here had been placed over stone that was smooth to the point of being shiny. “How heavy are the stones?” she asked, studying the walls.

  “Some of them as much as two hundred tons.”

  They began to climb the ramp.

  “Do you know how they did it?” she asked after a while. She was forming some theories of her own. It could be done with solid-reed, she mused, but solid-reed would not look so much like natural rock.

  “There are many theories: thousands of slaves moving the blocks on wooden rollers, floating the blocks downstream, even using enormous kites to lift the blocks from the quarries to the building site. But there’s an increasing consensus in the scientific community that we really don’t know how it was done.”

  After several minutes of slow progress as they both stared upward, they reached the top of the gallery and stood looking back down at it. It was an impressive structure by anyone’s reckoning, a feat of engineering that remained unrivaled, in many ways, even by modern Earth. And, Pruit thought, it was a missing link in the histories of both Earth and Herrod. Was that sleeper really alive? Or had she been talking to some ancient computer program? Did someone still exist who would know what had happened almost five thousand years before?

  Eddie let her take in the view; then he stooped down again and led her through the short passage into the King’s Chamber. When they stood up again, they were in a large hall constructed of smooth monoliths, empty except for a stone sarcophagus at the opposite end of the room. The walls were of pinkish granite, colored by the yellow of the lights. The ceiling was formed of nine immense blocks. Pruit and Eddie were now in the very center of the pyramid.

  “Welcome to the hall of echoes,” he said. As he spoke, his voice reverberated, the sounds falling into each other, the earlier words interrupting those that came later. Pruit looked up and let her eyes run over the walls that she realized had been designed particularly to treat sound in that way. Even now, shorn of the casing stones that had made it perfect and defaced by the forced entry of recent peoples, this beacon performed the functions for which it had been created.

  “It’s amazing,” she said softly, and the quiet tones of her voice began to echo through the chamber.

  Eddie walked toward the sarcophagus. With his back to her, Pruit turned toward the wall and quickly pulled a small device from her pocket. It was circular and flat, about three inches in diameter. It was a tiny transmitter. She had programmed it, back on the ship, with the survey team beacon frequency, and she had given it instructions, the night before, to request certain things from the beacon.

  She glanced at the transmitter and tabbed through its various displays, double-checking that everything was correct.

  “Pruit.”

  She turned around, the transmitter hidden in the palm of her left hand, to find Eddie looking at her. He was sitting in the sarcophagus.

  “You’re in the tomb?”

  “I don’t think it is a tomb,” he said. “No one ever found a body. Listen.” He lay down in the sarcophagus and waited for the echo of his last word to slowly fade out. Then he sang a long and low om, letting the note roll off his tongue and into the room. Pruit listened as the note hit the walls and the room began to vibrate with the sound. The om carried for many seconds after his voice had stopped.

  Eddie sat up in the tomb. “They don’t let you do that on the usual tour. Would you like to try?”

  She paused, then nodded. “All right.”

  He stepped back out onto the floor, and she climbed into the sarcophagus, still clutching the transmitter in her hand. She lay down on cool ancient stone, feeling the dust on her clothes and the enchantment of the pyramid. She waited for the room to quiet. Eddie moved a few feet away and closed his eyes to listen. He was out of sight from her current position.

  “Ommmmm,” she sang, pitching her voice low, as he had done. She heard the sound reach out and come back, reach out and come back, again and again. The pyramid was taking her voice and repeating it, letting it echo up and down through the five stacked chambers above, then back into the hall around them. She listened, and as the waves of sound began to fade, she pressed her thumb into the transmitter, giving it the order to send.

  The transmitter released its commands to the pyramid, and the pyramid, receiving orders on the proper frequency, took those commands within its walls, within its very structure, amplified them, then sent them on.

  Pruit could feel the building shake. No, it was not a shaking exactly; it was a vibrating, a shivering, and the structure seemed to let out a great sigh as the shiver passed through it, a sigh of every stone block contributing to the message.

  “Jesus!” she heard Eddie say.

  Pruit looked at the transmitter. It had asked a question, and it had received an answer. On its small display she saw a new set of coordinates. She had the location of the sleepers’ cave.

  She sat up in the sarcophagus and looked at Eddie. He w
as standing in the middle of the room, his arms held out by his hips as though he were preparing to balance should the pyramid come tumbling down around him.

  “Jesus…” he said again, looking at her. “What was that?”

  “I don’t know.” She tried to look concerned. “Should we leave?”

  It was after their hasty retreat from the Great Pyramid that Eddie found his way into Pruit’s hotel room. He watched her head for the hotel pool to take a quick swim and then bribed a hall maid to let him into her room. He had hoped to spend no more than five minutes inside, but it was closer to half an hour before he emerged.

  CHAPTER 26

  2600 BC

  Year 7 of Kinley Earth Survey

  He is my very good friend, and an honorable gentleman.

  —Timon of Athens, William Shakespeare

  “You can still change your mind, Lion,” the Engineer said.

  He and his wife and the Lion stood in the bright, cool hall that was the Engineer’s workshop at camp. The building was made of green-black diorite, a beautiful stone that glowed when the sun hit it. The walls and roof had been grown in place by the Engineer, the crystals of diorite forming in days what would have taken nature a hundred thousand years to accomplish. The ceiling was suspended from four stone posts which stood as outcroppings at each corner of the walls, leaving the upper portion of the hall open to the outside. The sun brought in sufficient light to work by, and the dark stone kept the space cool.

  “No, I can’t,” the Lion said, checking over the packed wooden crates that were lined along the walls. “I have a wife. We plan to have children soon.”

  “There will be room for her.” The Engineer was packing sets of data crystals into soft leather cases. “The Biologist and the Jack have yet to confirm that they’re coming with us. There will be extra tanks.”

  “Take her home with you and raise your children on Herrod,” the Doctor said.

  The Lion studied his friends. The Engineer looked stronger and healthier than he had on his arrival on Earth. He had filled the last seven years with projects to improve their life in Egypt. He had supervised the construction, or perhaps growth was a better word, of a dozen beautiful buildings at the camp. His brown hair had grown out, and his skin was deeply tanned, as was the Doctor’s. The two of them nearly looked like natives.

  It had been five years since the last message from home, the message informing them that rescue must wait. The Engineer’s conviction that rescue would eventually come had not flagged in the intervening years, but he had become convinced that it might be a long time before it arrived.

  “My wife and I have a life here,” the Lion told them. “My children will be natives. It no longer bothers me that I might never see Herrod again. This is my home.”

  The Engineer looked at the Lion, his closest friend on this long mission. “I admire that. It would be easier if I felt the same way, but I am somehow compelled to go back.” He put an arm around the Doctor. “We want to stand together on Beacon Hill when the sun rises. That’s where I proposed to her. Even if we return to find a generation gone and things greatly changed, we want to be home. The First Mate left his wife and son on Herrod. How can we not go back?”

  “I understand your reasons. If I had no wife, perhaps I would be coming along.”

  “Will you at least pilot the shuttle with me on our way to the cave? A last project together?”

  “I don’t think that would be wise.”

  “Why not?”

  “I think it’s better if I don’t know the location of the cave. I think it’s better if no one does.”

  “Lion, we would trust you with our lives without hesitating,” the Doctor said.

  “Yes, I know,” the Lion said. “And I would do my best to deserve that trust. But I am not the only one to think of.” The Lion held the Engineer’s gaze, willing him to understand him without being forced to explain.

  The Engineer nodded. “Oh. Your parents,” he said slowly. “They would never take actions to put us in danger, Lion. I’m sure of it. The Captain is very serious about his promise to erect the transponder tower. I have already helped him select the design. He won’t fail me. I know him well enough to know that.”

  “I wish I felt confidence in that statement, Engineer, but I don’t. I don’t even know how to evaluate his actions anymore. Or hers. It’s as though the center of their personalities has moved and they no longer follow logical patterns of motion.”

  The Engineer and Doctor smiled. “It is a little like that,” the Doctor agreed. “Is it true the queen’s son is your half brother?” The Captain had grown less and less attached to the others at the camp. Most of the time, the only news the crew had of him was through rumors.

  “It’s true,” the Lion said. “He’s called Khufu. I was worried that he would be attacked by the other princes, but instead, they have welcomed him as a divine addition to the household.” He said the words with a sense of bewildered disagreement.

  The Engineer shook his head. “When we were still on Herrod, planning this trip, could you have imagined your father in his present circumstances? He was such a serious and upright hero then. The physical world is something I understand, Lion. Human behavior is another matter.”

  “Apparently so.”

  “But I have faith in the promise the Captain gave me,” the Engineer said.

  “Good,” the Lion replied, “and I will be around to ensure your faith is justified.”

  The Engineer smiled. “I appreciate that.” He scanned the room. The crystals and tools were packed now and so were all the things he would need to outfit the cave. “I’ll get the Mechanic to start moving these things to the shuttle.”

  That brought up the other subject the Lion had on his mind. “Engineer,” he said slowly, “how much do you trust the Mechanic?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you think he’s a good person?”

  “I don’t know,” the Engineer said after a moment. “He’s sloppy in a way that’s dangerous. But if you push him hard enough, he gets his work done.”

  “I think he’s a little worse than that,” the Lion said.

  “He’s very quiet,” the Doctor reflected. “He doesn’t say much, and people mistake that for being sullen.”

  “Are you sure it’s a mistake?”

  “He’s shy, Lion. He’s always been in the Captain’s shadow.”

  “The Captain’s shadow,” the Lion repeated softly. “That’s a good way of putting it. Standing in the shadows, whispering things.”

  “What are you talking about?” the Engineer asked.

  The Lion ran a hand through his long blond hair and expelled his breath. “I don’t trust him,” he said flatly. “And it’s not just sloppiness or incompetence or shyness. He’s always…lurking. Listening to other people’s conversations. I feel like his intentions aren’t honest. Like he wants trouble between people. And power for himself.”

  “You sound like a bitter old gossip!” the Doctor said.

  “That’s what my wife told me,” the Lion said, smiling because he knew he did sound like a gossip. Beneath the smile, however, was frustration, for it was difficult to give reasons for what he felt, but at the same time, it was important he make them understand. “Think about our time here. When there were disputes, wasn’t the Mechanic usually involved somehow?”

  The Engineer considered this. Then, slowly, he said, “You may be right. He was often involved in trouble.”

  “It’s a small crew,” the Doctor argued. “We’re all involved with each other in one way or another. I know he’s not very likable, but are you sure you’re basing your feelings on fact?”

  The Lion’s face lost its humor and so did his voice. “I don’t trust him, Doctor. And I don’t think you should. There will only be a few of you in the cave, close quarters. In a very real way, all of your lives will depend on each other. The crystals you’re taking with you are extremely valuable in a primitive world like this. Maybe tem
pting. I’ll be around to make sure my father is never tempted to take them, but I don’t think the Mechanic deserves to be in your group.”

  They both stared at him. The Doctor was shaken by his words. “We can’t…we can’t leave him out,” she said softly. “We’ve already told him there was a tank for him.”

  “Does it matter?” the Lion asked. “It’s up to you who you bring. I don’t think any of the others will object to leaving him out.”

  The Engineer shook his head after a few moments of contemplation. “I don’t think he’s quite as bad as you make out, Lion. I can watch him. He won’t have a chance to hurt us.”

  The Lion studied their faces for several moments, wishing he had more concrete evidence to give them. But there was almost nothing, just a feeling. “All right,” he said at length. “Then I have something to give you.” From a deep pocket in his pants, he withdrew a small rectangle. He handed it to the Engineer.

  It was a little crystalline display. On it was a glowing dot, which was moving slightly. It was a monitor for a homing device. The dot was moving on a map of the local area. The Engineer fiddled with the tabs at the sides, and the scale changed, showing a map of a much larger area and then all of Egypt.

  “A homing device?” he asked.

  “It’s in the Mechanic’s neck,” the Lion said. “I drugged him a few years ago and placed it there myself.” He saw the Engineer and Doctor exchange a look and continued quickly, “I just…I thought it was a good idea to keep track of him. But now there are only a few weeks left until he goes with you. You should have it. Watch it. Make sure he doesn’t do anything strange.”

  “What would he do?” They were both looking at the Lion as if he had gone a bit crazy.