by Overton, Max
"Follow them to El Salloum," Sarraj said. "I will have them detained there, but I want to know if they do anything..."
"Your pardon, Colonel," Ali Hafiz said, a tremor of fear in his voice as he interrupted. "The foreigners have taken the road south, to Al Jawf. They hired a Jeep."
"Where is Al Jawf?"
"Many miles south, Colonel. In the desert."
"Why are they going there?" Sarraj muttered.
"I don't know..."
"That was not a question," Sarraj snapped. He took a folded map of Egypt out of a drawer in his desk and opened it out, searching the western border for Al Jawf. He could not find it.
"Follow them to Al Jawf," Sarraj instructed. "I want to know immediately if they attempt to cross the border into Egypt."
"There is a problem, Colonel."
"What?"
"I suspect there is no telephone link from Al Jawf. How shall I contact you?"
Sarraj massaged his temples. "Go to the army barracks in Benghazi and ask for..." He leafed through a small book on his desk. "...Lieutenant Fasal ibn Huud. Mention my name and ask for a radio transmitter. He will give you the required frequency and call signs to reach me."
"Yes Colonel."
"Don't fail me in this, Ali Hafiz. I need to know where those foreigners are and what they are doing."
Sarraj terminated the call and leaned back in his chair. He contemplated the problem before him for a few moments, and then pressed the buzzer on his desk. Another few minutes passed and there was a soft tap on his study door. Lieutenant Azib entered and saluted.
"Find me a detailed map of the border between Libya and Egypt."
"There may be one in the library, sir."
"I don't care where it is. Just find it and bring it to me."
Sarraj returned to the stack of papers on his desk, reading through the reports and recommendations from officers above and below him in the local chain of command, and also others that had nothing to do with official channels. He thought of calling for coffee but decided on a cigarette instead, inhaling the harsh smoke and feeling the energy surge within him again. Azib returned with a map and unfolded it on Sarraj's desk. Sarraj pored over it and after a little searching, found the desert township of Al Jawf.
"An exercise for you, Azib. Assume a foreigner intent on entering Egypt illegally has been seen in Al Jawf here..." Sarraj tapped the map. "What is his next move?"
Azib examined the map carefully, noting the few roads, fewer towns, and expanses of unmarked territory. "What does this man have in the way of transport, sir?"
"Unknown. Perhaps a Jeep."
"What else can you tell me about this man, sir?"
"There is no man. This is only an exercise."
"Yes sir. Is this er...hypothetical man...er, is he knowledgeable in the ways of the desert?"
"Assume not."
"Then he will quickly die, sir. The Libyan Desert is deadly. I doubt that a Jeep would be able to negotiate the terrain."
"And if he has knowledge of the desert?" Sarraj asked.
"Then he would travel by camel, sir. His chances of survival would be quite good, particularly if he could engage the help of local tribesmen."
"And his likely destination?"
Lieutenant Azib studied the map. "If he wishes to cross safely into Egypt, then the town of Al Jaghbub is a more logical choice. The Oasis of Siwa is only forty or fifty miles away. However..." Azib went on hurriedly as the Colonel frowned, "...if he is definitely crossing from Al Jawf, then one of the towns near Kharga is likely. Abu Minqar perhaps, or Mut, though they are both many days travel."
"Place a man in each of the towns near there and equip them with radio transmitters. I want to know immediately if a stranger arrives from the desert."
"Yes sir. This er...hypothetical man... Who are they looking for? Can I give them a description?"
"Two Englishmen and an English woman. I doubt there will be any mistaking them."
"They are to be apprehended?"
"No, just observed."
Azib saluted. "Yes sir."
"I shall be most annoyed if, having seen these people, your men lose track of them."
Lieutenant Azib saluted again and withdrew, leaving Sarraj to return to his reports. He got up and locked the door before returning to his desk and removing a thin folder from a locked, steel-lined drawer. Opening the folder, he went over the information inside it once more, though he knew the contents intimately. For two years he had worked on his plans, talking, cajoling, persuading. He had used his position as a full colonel of the Egyptian army to carefully select his men and place them in positions where they would do his cause the most good. He bought some politicians and army officers and blackmailed others. A few he even had removed permanently. And now, at last, he was ready to act, to launch a coup that would wrest power away from Nasser, and usher in a new military dictatorship with Colonel Michel Sarraj as Commander in Chief. All he lacked was money.
For months, Sarraj had contemplated bringing in Soviet Russia as an ally. They had intimated they would be happy to lend funds for such an enterprise, but Sarraj knew the cost was too high. Give the communists a foothold and Egypt would rapidly devolve into a client state. Now there was an alternative--an Egyptian alternative. The undisturbed tomb of an ancient king would provide gold to fund the military revolution. It was going to happen. Just a little bit longer...but he must tread carefully.
Sarraj lit another cigarette and thought about the foreigners that had discovered the account of the tomb in Syria and were even now seemingly determined to find the treasure themselves. How much did they know ? According to Ahmed Bashir, they had no tangible proof of the tomb's existence and had only fading memories of what the account had actually said. Bashir had the full transcript and could study it carefully, working out the location of untold riches. All the advantages lay with Bashir.
"Why are they coming to Egypt then?" he asked himself. "Is there something Bashir isn't telling me?" He would have to ask him--and observe his face carefully as he answered.
Sarraj's hand hovered over the buzzer, meaning to call Azib to him again, but then decided not to. Bashir was a Minister in the Syrian government and he needed him--for the time being. It would not do to antagonise the man by sending for him like some lackey. He would go to him instead. Sarraj got up and straightened his uniform before setting out to find his guest.
Ahmed Bashir was in the library, sampling the books on offer, removing a volume and dipping into it before replacing it and selecting another one. He looked up as Sarraj entered.
"You have a fine library, Michel."
"It is small, but adequate for my needs."
"You are interested in history, I see."
"There are lessons to be learned in the actions of leaders through the ages. Ahmed, we must talk." Sarraj gestured toward a pair of armchairs. He waited until Bashir had settled himself before speaking.
"How was your talk with Director Nasrallah at the Museum of Antiquities? I trust it was informative?"
"You know about that? How? It is no secret, you understand, but I didn't know myself until it happened."
Sarraj smiled. "Little escapes me."
"Well, as I said, it is no secret. I asked him about certain persons mentioned in the Syrian account--Pharaoh Smenkhkare and Princess Beketaten."
"And what was Nasrallah's reaction?"
Bashir shrugged. "He couldn't help me. Not because he wouldn't, you understand, but because they are relative unknowns."
Sarraj sat silently for a few moments. "How do you intend finding the treasury and tomb?"
"The account contains a description. I hope to use this to find them."
"Tell me what it says."
"Why?" Bashir stared at Sarraj. "We agreed I would search for the tomb and you would provide the financial backing. Are you going back on our agreement?"
"By no means," Sarraj assured him. "I just want to be sure you can actually find it."
"I
can."
"So tell me. Reassure me that I am not pouring money and resources into a fruitless exercise."
Bashir hesitated, chewing his bottom lip. "You would not exclude me from the search?"
"Of course not."
"I am a Minister, remember. If I go to the authorities..."
"Ahmed, you are my friend. Let there be no talk of authorities and exclusion. We are in this together and must trust each other. Do you not agree?"
Bashir nodded slowly. "Very well, Michel, as a friend I will share the first part of the account which describes the position of the treasury of King Smenkhkare. It says, 'Three days upriver from Waset, where the cliffs recede from the river, and a line of vegetation points the way to a path up the cliff. A notch guides the setting sun.'" Bashir smiled thinly. "After that, it gets a bit vaguer and more complicated."
"Where is Waset? I don't recognise the name."
"Modern day Luxor."
"Then three days upriver should not be difficult to pinpoint. The cliffs are not near the river at that point...what?"
"Three days upriver," Bashir said. "Is that on foot? Walking day and night, or just by day? By sail perhaps, though with a following wind? Rowing, maybe? How fast? We don't even know if that is exactly three days or approximately three days."
Sarraj swore. "You must have more than this. What aren't you telling me?"
"The original description was of a war galley fleeing upriver from a battle outside Waset. We might be able to work out a speed if we knew the size of the galley and how many oars it boasted."
"Is there any way to find out?"
"Perhaps Director Nasrallah would know what ancient Egyptian galleys were like."
"You saw him yesterday. Did you ask him?"
"No."
Sarraj considered this for a few moments. "It might not matter too much. As long as we can approximate the distance, the other factors will lead us. It has to be a place where the river recedes from the cliffs on the western bank."
"And if the river has changed its course?" Bashir asked. "What then?"
"How can the river change its course?" Sarraj stared at his friend. "Is that likely?"
Bashir shrugged. "Who can say? Rivers do change their courses, meandering back and forth across their river valleys--I have it on good authority. Whether the Nile has done so I couldn't say."
"And the line of vegetation?"
"Plants die. It has been three thousand years."
"The notch? The path up the cliffs?"
"Three thousand years of erosion might have erased all traces."
"Then the task is impossible."
"Difficult, I grant you," Bashir said. "But I would like to examine that stretch of river before I give up on this quest. The rewards surely outweigh a few weeks or months of searching."
Sarraj rose from his chair and started pacing the floor, his face twisted into a deep frown of concentration. "I hadn't thought the problem so difficult when you broached it, Ahmed. Had I known I doubt I would have agreed."
"You're not going to pull out? This tomb could make us both rich."
"It could, but only if we find it. I could still find the money I need from other sources." Sarraj grimaced at the thought of Soviet advisers within his beloved country.
"Don't give up yet, Michel. Give me a month to scout the river before you decide anything. Nazim and I can do that--we don't need any of your men. Just give us a motorboat and we'll get the job done." Bashir saw the hesitation on Sarraj's face. "What have you got to lose?"
"Indeed. Is there something you haven't told me, Ahmed?"
Bashir regarded the military man cautiously. "What do you mean?"
"Do the Englishmen know anything else that might lead them to the tomb more swiftly?"
"Englishmen? Ah, do you mean Dr Hanser and her colleagues? What do they have to do with this? They are back in England."
"Would they know anything that might help them find the tomb? Something you don't have?"
Bashir shook his head. "They couldn't possibly. We all shared the information, and then at the end, I confiscated everything." He thought for a few moments. "Everything. I even had their baggage searched and scrutinised. Nothing they can possibly say to their university authorities would carry any weight. They are harmless."
"Then why are they in Libya, heading for the Egyptian border?"
Bashir leapt to his feet in agitation. "What? What are you talking about?"
"They were seen in Benghazi last week and hired a vehicle and driver to take them to Al Jawf. The woman leader, an older man, presumably Dr Williams and a young man."
"That'll be Dr Andrews--a hothead and a troublemaker." Bashir mopped his brow with a handkerchief and collapsed back into his armchair. "Where's this Al Jawf?"
"In the Libyan desert, quite close to the Egyptian border. I think it is reasonable to assume that they are not holidaying there but intend to cross into Egypt and seek the tomb."
"We...we must...you must stop them."
"My authority does not extend that far. Once they step into Egypt I can arrest them."
"You must make certain of it."
Sarraj regarded the sweating Minister for several minutes. "Why are they coming here?" he asked at length.
"You said it yourself--to find the tomb."
"Yes, but how? They have no written accounts, no artefacts, and no treasure map, because you confiscated all that. They only have their memories of what are very vague directions. What could they possibly achieve? How could they find anything when you, armed with a full description, have doubts about finding it? No. They have something else. What is it, Ahmed? Tell me."
"There's nothing." Bashir frowned and then shook his head. "Dr Hanser was always very good at finding things, but I'm sure that was just..."
"Just what?" Sarraj waited, but Bashir offered nothing more. "What did she have?"
"Nothing, it's ridiculous."
"What were you about to say? How was she good at finding things?"
"I saw her find the third and last chamber when all my scientific equipment could not. I heard stories about her--my men overheard the members of the expedition talking. They said she..." Bashir smiled. "She is experienced in archaeology. She saw clues that others would miss. That's all it was--that, and luck."
Sarraj regarded Bashir coolly. "What did your men overhear?"
"Impossible things, ridiculous things."
"Such as?"
"They said she was descended from the Scarab in the account, and it is true she looked like the paintings of her on the chamber walls, but I'm sure that is just coincidence. They also said she knew exactly where the first two chambers were and pointed them out."
"Did they say how she knew?"
"A scarab told her."
"A scarab?"
"Ridiculous isn't it? If we take that at face value, we either have a talking beetle or...or perhaps there were clues in the inscription. I just thought of that. The woman called Scarab could have told her where the next chambers were hidden."
"And how did she tell her where the first one was? Before they found the written inscription?"
Bashir grimaced. "I don't know." He opened his mouth to say something more and then closed it again as a thought occurred to him. To cover his sudden indecision he yawned and shrugged. "The alternative is to believe the ghost of the woman somehow told her."
Sarraj raised his eyebrows. "You even contemplate such a thing?"
"Of course not. She was a pagan and as such, could not be in paradise with Allah. Therefore she could not do His bidding."
"You believe that?"
"I am a good Muslim."
"Or at least a cautious one, for I have never seen you at prayers."
"Nor I you, Michel."
Sarraj contemplated his friend. "Between you and me, Ahmed, and strictly in private, of course, I have difficulty in believing in the reality of the supernatural."
"You are an unbeliever?"
Sarraj smiled
. "No doubt I shall make a full and sincere confession of my faith on my deathbed. But seriously, you don't think this dead princess guided Dr Hanser, do you?"
"It is entirely too fanciful for my taste," Bashir said, "Except that Dr Andrews was heard remarking to one of the other expedition members that the golden scarab had guided her."
"Scarabs are a common enough item in Egyptian tombs."
"Except there was never one associated with this one. In fact, as you know, it was not a tomb, just a series of chambers with a written account adorning the walls. No grave goods, no jewellery, no scarabs--golden or otherwise."
"You are sure they didn't find one and just not reveal it to you?"
"Completely. They, and their belongings, were thoroughly searched and everything related to the find was confiscated. Besides, even if there had been, how would a golden scarab guide them?"
"Perhaps there were instructions on it."
"Fanciful, Michel. Scarabs are small and usually bear no more than the name of the person they are supposed to bless. A short prayer perhaps. To aid Dr Hanser, the scarab would have to say something like 'look on the north wall of the cave fifty paces from the entrance'--and that would just be for the first chamber. There would have to be directions for the other two chambers as well. No, the idea doesn't hold water."
"How then do you explain her talent?"
"Something innate, perhaps. I can't really, without invoking superhuman powers."
"I suppose we could ask her," Sarraj said. "She's on her way into Egypt. I have men out waiting for her even now."
"What makes you think she'd tell you? That would negate her sole advantage."
Colonel Sarraj smiled coldly. "I can be quite persuasive."
Bashir concealed a shudder. "It might be worth a try, but I think I should start looking at the river cliffs south of Luxor anyway. Who knows? Her information may not even be needed."
Sarraj nodded. "I'll have Lieutenant Azib arrange for a small cabin cruiser to be made available. Just for you and your aide?"
"Yes, Nazim is flying in day after tomorrow. We'll fly down to Luxor the day after that."