“Are you alright?” asked Amon, rushing to her side.
“I am fine. Scraped my knee, I think,” she said as Amon helped her up.
She dusted her pants and bent over to pick up the flashlight when she noticed a spot on the newly exposed section of the wall, where its light fell.
“Oh my, there it is!” she said, her eyes wide with awe. “I found it!”
“You did? The secret passageway?” boomed Amon, delighted.
“No. Not that.”
“Oh.” Amon’s heart sank.
“I found the mark. The one I was searching for. It is inscribed into the background of the twenty-fifth Faiyum scroll. Look, here it is!” said Wanda dusting the engraving lightly with her palm.
Amon looked into the glow of the flashlight where Wanda now pointed.
“It’s the symbol of Ra, the eye of Ra,” he said.
“That’s what I had been expecting. But no. Look closely. It’s the symbol of Horus.”
“Oh right, I can see it now. The iris is blue, isn.t it?” said Amon, moving up to the symbol and fingering it lightly.
“Exactly! The symbol of Horus, as you know, can easily be mistaken for the symbol of Ra. They are almost identical but I have been studying this too long to be deceived. Very few know that for the symbol to be that of Ra, the iris needs to be red. There are other subtle differences but this is the most striking. I had heard this before but I became absolutely certain when I studied your grandfather’s book of hieroglyphs.” Wanda, gently pushed on the stone that bore the engraving and the slab of stone slid backwards revealing a cavity with a hollow dug into its floor. Inside this, was a small rectangular box of shining metal.
“It cannot be!” Gasped Amon, frozen with shock. “The legendary, script of Horus!”
“Perhaps,” said Wanda, delicately lifting the metal box out of the groove and placing it on the floor in front of them. The box was made of electrum, an ancient alloy of gold and silver, and its lid was covered with an engraved design that looked like an eye.
“The eye of Horus,” whispered Amon, gently opening the lid. Inside, were yellowing pages of papyrus inscribed with ancient hieroglyphs. “So, it is true, it exists, the script of Horus!”
“Yes, and so does another, the script of Ra, and I’m starting to fear that the enemy has found it and that is why they named themselves the eye of Ra or, in short, the Aifra.”
“If what you say is true, then this is terrible news! Legend has it that the chanting of the book of Ra confers on an individual, extraordinary destructive powers, beyond anyone’s imagination. It can make someone a king but not a benevolent and wise king. Instead, a ruthless and power-hungry overlord who seeks to conquer the world. One who longs to be Ra himself but does so in vain.”
“Then he has found it,” whispered Wanda gravely. “I just realized that the leader of Aifra has found it.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because, when I discovered the eye of Ra marked into the Faiyum scroll, I knew I had to search for the eye because it would be connected to our destiny in one way or another. From my investigations, I learned that a few years ago, researchers found in Abydos, the sacred temple of Ra and a stone marked with the eye of Ra. When they accidentally leaned on this stone, it gave way, revealing the location of the script of Ra. But the script was never found. The cavity behind the eye was empty. Based on my research of this location, I had a hunch that this might be a slightly newer temple of Ra where the script of Ra may have been later transferred. There are no other known structures identified as a shrine to Ra from the time period of the script. Hence, I was hoping that the script would be hidden here within these ruins. But it turns out this was a temple of Horus all along.”
“What if someone else has found it? Someone from another era, one who may not even be alive today?”
“That is not likely. For two reasons. One, who do we know that calls themselves the eye of Ra? Two, even if this script was discovered in another era, given the potency of the chant, the person who harnessed its power would probably still be alive. He will not be so easily vanquished.”
“You speak the truth. Although there is a catch here.”
“A catch?”
“Yes,” said Amon. “Each of the ancient scripts of Horus and Ra is useless if not chanted at the proper hour and in a specific manner. The manner in which either of these verses should be chanted is not documented anywhere. These scripts are not connected, yet they are both inordinately powerful. However, my knowledge of Egyptology tells me that the script of Horus is far more superior as it represents a cleansing, wholesome power whereas the script of Ra unleashes a destructive, ruthless one. It is said that when the time comes, a suitable individual or set of individuals will be chosen by the universe, and they will receive celestial messages which will enable them to know how and where these verses should be chanted in order to unleash their full potential.”
“In that case, let us hope that the full power of the script of Ra has not yet been harnessed. But what if it has?”
“If it has, then our situation is much more dire than we thought. Even if the power of Ra has been partially tapped into, which can be done, the world is in great peril. The only power that can counter this is the script of Horus.”
“Which, in all likelihood, we now hold in our hands,” said Wanda.
“Yes, but alas, we do not know how to harness its power either!”
“And neither do we know how to get out of here alive.” Wanda sighed.
* * *
Just then, there was a strange rumbling sound at the other end of the room. It came from the direction of the sand bags. Amon quickly reached for his backpack where he had stored his gun, but it was not on him. He had left it at the foot of the tunnel when he hurried to Wanda’s side. Before they could figure out what was happening, a human figure burst forth from the chute and rolled on to the sandbagged floor. Amon stood up to his full-length, shielding Wanda with his frame, ready for hand-to-hand combat.
“Stand back, we are armed!” he growled. The intruder did not respond. Any minute now they could be captured. The stranger was shrouded in darkness, so it was difficult to discern what he was doing. In a sudden move of desperation, Amon swung around and grabbing the flashlight from the floor, shone it across the room. In the pale gleam of the tiny light, the feeble frame of a bearded old man appeared.
“Abu!” screamed, Amon, fuming with rage.
“S-i-r,” Abu stammered. “Please forgive me, I had—”
“Forgive you? Forgive you? I will murder you! You gave us away and now they have sent you to capture us?” Amon raged on without paying any heed to his employee’s whimpering.
“Amon, please,” intervened Wanda, laying her hand on his arm, “calm down and listen to him, will you? I believe it is not what you fear.” Amon looked surprised. Then in the pale glimmer of the flashlight, he saw that Abu was in tears. Amon’s eyes softened.
“Speak,” he said.
“Sir, Abu come to save you.”
“You, what?”
“Please forgive Abu, sir. Abu eavesdropped, sir. I heard all your plan. I was real scared, after that break-in. I swore to your grandfather, I would protect you with my life, and Abu is man of word. So, I follow you to Cairo. Mahmoud hide me in tent. Then, when you go to Hawara, all alone, through dangerous road, Mahmoud and I hide in shadow and follow from far. We arrive one hour before and find much trouble. Guard is dead. Horses run away. Camp is empty. I think, all is lost. But then, we see Wassem. He sits on top of danger sign above this room and there was this at his feet,” he said, holding up the flashlight headband that was in his right hand. “Mahmoud lit light and then he see footstep in sand, large footstep. Your footstep, sir. I know very well your footstep. I know you since you were little boy. So, I follow footstep and I fall through trap-door and land here. Please forgive me, sir,” he pleaded.
Amon welled up. He rushed to the other side of the room and stood face to face wi
th the old man. Then smiling, he wrapped his arms around him, engulfing the little man in a huge embrace.
“Please forgive me, my friend, for doubting you,” he said finally. Wanda walked over to their side, smiling gratefully. No one seemed to realize that they were yet to find the way out of this vault.
“Pardon my interruption, gentlemen,” Wanda finally said, timidly. “We should try to find an escape before we exhaust the oxygen in this room. Let us continue the search.”
“Do not worry, madam,” said Abu with a sly grin. “I come with help. I bring camel and rope. Mahmoud is above and he has rope. He will throw...ah there comes rope,” he said, noticing something emerge from the chute and plop on to the sand bags. “Madam is first,” he added, handing Wanda the coil of rope that had materialized from the chute. The loose end of this coil was to be tied around her waist while Amon’s employee from the horse riding business, Mahmoud, who was near the trap-door, holding firm the other end of the rope, would draw her up once he received the signal. Wanda hesitated.
“What’s wrong?” asked Amon.
“The script,” she said in a low voice.
“Oh yes! I will fetch it,” said Amon, remembering the precious relic. “I will fetch it.”
Amon hurried to the back of the room with his rucksack and finding the box containing the script of Horus, stowed it carefully inside the bag. He then returned to assist Wanda with her climb.
CHAPTER twenty-four
Alejandro watched Nirmala as she hurried towards the fallen priest in front of them and was about to join her when he heard a shuffle of feet behind him. He turned quickly and felt a nasty punch land on his lower jaw. His attacker grabbed him by the arm and tackled him to the ground. Alejandro reached for his revolver that was stowed inside a saffron pouch slung on his shoulder, but the bag had slipped out of his reach in the scuffle. He aimed a kick at his attacker and it landed squarely in his pelvic area. He groaned and recoiled. Alejandro seized this opportunity to reach for his pistol, but his attacker had recovered and was aiming a kick at his head. Alejandro swerved to the side just in time and the kick landed on his satchel instead, driving it even further from his reach. With the corner of his eye, he could see a man speed out the door with the unconscious form of Nirmala dangling from his shoulder.
Shit, he thought. He got up quickly and punched his attacker painfully across the nose. Then picking up a large bronze candelabra from the alter of Krishna, he rammed it against his attacker’s head. The man stumbled and almost fell over, and then regaining his balance, turned around and fled out the door after his companion.
“Son of a bitch!” screamed Alejandro and rushing to his saffron pouch, retrieved his gun. Then he ran out the temple door in pursuit of the kidnappers. It was dark outside, the faint crescent moon hiding behind a patch of smog. Alejandro could barely make out the outlines of the attackers in the distance. They were running fast and had already made it past the temple courtyard. The one carrying Nirmala was scrambling down the steps, and the other one was right behind. Gaining on them, Alejandro fired a shot but missed. He fired a second shot and missed again. In the distance, he saw a third man approaching towards the bottom of the steps. Alejandro fired again and this time he struck the one that was closer to him. The one carrying Nirmala was at the bottom of the steps, making for a navy-blue Audi sedan that had just arrived. The victim of Alejandro’s shooting staggered. He seemed to have taken a hit on the leg.
Alejandro had made sure to have a silencer on his gun, so as not to attract any attention. This gave him another curious advantage; the kidnappers did not know how many weapons were being aimed at them. They did not waste any time confronting the shooters. The third man that had arrived hurried up the steps and lifting his injured accomplice on to his back, scurried away towards the car. By the time Alejandro was at the bottom of the steps, the three had boarded the car; after tossing Nirmala into the trunk and were zooming off at breakneck speed, colliding with a shop or two along the way.
Alejandro sat down on the bottom-most step, feeling defeated. He felt responsible for what happened to Nirmala. He had gotten her into this. He should not have brought her along or at least done better at defending her. He had failed. Turning to the right, he noticed the sentry’s body lying face down on the white limestone of the temple steps. Whether he was dead or unconscious, he could not tell. He suddenly remembered the other sentry that was upstairs.
I did not see him when I came out of the temple, he thought. He must have run away. He might have gone straight to the cops. I have to get out of here. Where is Dr. Sinha?
Alejandro turned to head back up the stairs when he noticed a frail figure staggering down the steps, leaning on a walking stick. Rushing up the stairs he met Dr. Sinha’s trembling form near the top.
“Oh, my dear Alejandro, there you are!” Dr. Sinha exclaimed, visibly delighted to have finally found him. “Where is Nirmala?”
Alejandro’s eyes watered. “They took her. The thugs,” he replied, wiping the corner of his eye with the back of his hand.
“Dear lord, No!”
“I must go after them. Let’s get to the car, fast! Once you’re safe, I can chase—”
“You are insane!” interrupted Dr. Sinha. “You cannot go after them. Not by yourself. No! You will not get far. The sentry upstairs was gone. He must be returning with the cops as we speak. We must get to safety, calm down and then decide how we can save Nirmala. Otherwise, we will make matters worse. I know the roads in this area. They will not get very far in the traffic once the sun rises. We still have time.”
“But you don’t understand. It was my fault. Everything is my fault! I must follow her. I cannot just leave her to die or be tortured for information at the hands of those scumbags!”
“Neither can I. But do not be rash. A knee-jerk reaction is never wise. We should get out of here quickly and seek help. Only then can we find her.”
“Seek help? But who can help us here?”
“Can you think of no one?”
“No,” said Alejandro, his mind at a loss.
“How about your German friend?”
“Dr. Müller. Right. We can call Wolfgang,” realized Alejandro, feeling suddenly hopeful. “He can put his contacts to work, for sure,” he continued as he searched for his phone inside the little pockets of his saffron robe. “Damn, the battery’s dead!”
“Let us get out of here then. The car should still be waiting at the bazar.”
“Yes, but what about the high priest?”
“What happened to him?”
“He kind of went into a trance and collapsed right after you went to the bathroom.”
“Oh my! He was possessed. It happens rarely, but when it does, a prophecy is usually uttered. Did he say anything during the trance?”
“He did, but we don’t have time for that now. I will go and check on him and hurry back, and then we can make for the car.”
“Alright. I will be sitting here right on this step. I need to rest my old knees,” said Dr. Sinha as he proceeded to sit on the topmost step.
Alejandro quickly ran back to the alter of Krishna where the priest had dropped unconscious. Inside the temple the scent of incense was still strong but all the candles had gone out. He scanned the area in semi-darkness but there was no sign of the ‘sanyasi’. From the distance he could hear a faint music like the tune of a devotional song.
It is probably the priest, serenading his Lord, thought Alejandro. That means he is alright now. Alejandro felt relieved and without wasting any more time, he quickly scanned the floor of the temple for the satchel he dropped when they were attacked. Recovering it from the foot of the alter, he hurried back to the top of the steps where Dr. Sinha anxiously awaited his return.
“Let’s go,” he said when he arrived. “The priest is fine. He seems to be out and about and unaware of what transpired since his trance.”
“Good to hear. Let us go then. We can head to my home in Rajkot. From there you can ma
ke your calls. We have to find Nirmala and send the two of you back to safety.”
“I’m surprised the police aren’t here yet,” said Alejandro looking around as he helped Dr. Sinha get up.
“Oh, it is no surprise. Law enforcement is slow in these parts of the world and look at the time! It’s pushing midnight. The police can’t bother less about a few local gangsters who are probably in cahoots with them anyway. But they will certainly be here eventually and we better be gone when they arrive or else there is more trouble on our hands."
“These were no local gangsters,” said Alejandro as they made their way down the steps and towards the bazar. “They looked like foreigners and were driving an Audi.”
“An Audi! In these alleys? I cannot believe it. Who would have that kind of money in small town Dwarka? So far it has only been the government hindering the research at these ruins. For political reasons, I suspect. But they wouldn’t swing their goons over in an Audi. No, they wouldn’t!”
“I don’t think it’s the government that’s behind this incident or the one before where we were apprehended by the police. We have every reason to suspect a far more dangerous international organization, the Aifra.”
“Is that so? Then how do you explain the police being involved?”
“The Aifra have infiltrated the government and law enforcement at strategic locations in many countries across the world, so it makes sense.”
“The Aifra, you say,” said Dr. Sinha becoming suddenly thoughtful. “I hear about them on TV all the time. But tell me, what motive would they have to attack Dwarka?”
“I am trying to figure that one out myself. It could be an ancient weapon that they hope to find here. Perhaps they don’t want anyone else to get to it first.”
“Oh! I remember you asking me about that before. You could be right. Who knows what weapon of Krishna lies buried within the watery grave at Bet Dwarka? The magical stories of the last battle of Dwarka tell of many advanced weapons and technologies beyond…wait…I know what it is, what it is they hope to find!” Dr. Sinha exclaimed as a sudden realization dawned.
The Coming of Kalki Page 16