The Way of the Seed_Earth Spawn of Kalpeon

by Richard Dean Hall

  “Ask what you wish, and I will tell you all I know.” Ott folded his hands on the table.

  “Otteri,” the king began, “you and the others have great knowledge of the kingdom and know things of ancient kings of the Remeth. It is said you can read ancient inscriptions on the oldest of temples. Your knowledge surpasses that of the oldest scribes and the elder priests. These things are strange . . . especially for traders from foreign lands.”

  The king paused as Ott nodded. “But Otteri, these things aside, what I witnessed with Horemheb and Ay at the oasis is stranger still and has no explanation, save one. Otteri, are you, Chaeri, Graferi, and Yaaneri neteru or bau?” the king finished in a near whisper.

  Ott slowly shook his head. “No, we are neither gods nor messengers of the gods. But . . . we are protected by our gods.” Ott hesitated. “We have lived in the kingdom during the reigns of all the kings.”

  “Yes, Otteri, it is known that your families have traded in the kingdom and along the river for a long time,” the king said with a knowing look.

  “No,” Ott continued with a shake of his head, “we have no ancient ancestors. We—Cha, Graf Yaan, and I—have traded and lived in this land since before the rule of Narmer. Our long and protected lives are a gift from our . . . gods.”

  Tutankhamun stared at Ott with unblinking eyes as what he had heard registered in his mind. “You are not gods, but your gods protect you from harm and keep you from death and age?”

  Ott nodded. “They protect us from injury, heal our wounds. It is because of them the vipers were harmless to me.”

  “By what names are your protector gods known, Otteri?”

  “They are not of your gods. They are called Barjeen and Robfebe.”

  “And where are your gods?”

  “They travel in the sky, among the stars in houses that move through the heavens like ships upon the great river.” Ott raised his hand and pointed overhead.

  “Have you been with them and spoken with them in their houses in the sky?”

  “When they come for us, they take us in their house. They speak to us and return us to different lands.”

  “And when did you last see your gods, Otteri?”

  “It was long ago in another land.”

  “And when did you come to Misr?”

  “We came here when the kingdom was called Kemet. It was when Narmer ruled.”

  “Did you know King Narmer?”

  “We traveled with Narmer’s army when he defeated Djar at the battle of Edfu and united the upper and lower regions of the river. Narmer said Djar was more a scorpion than a king, and that he brought only death and chaos to the land.”

  Tutankhamun sat for several seconds, his brow furrowed in thought. “Otteri, why have your gods made you so?”

  “We have been told to watch and learn the way.”

  “And have you learned . . . the way?”

  “We have lived in many lands and many great cities, and I tell you the way of maat in this land you rule is just and good. But I also tell you it is not so elsewhere. There are always those like Djar, and they are always ready to conquer and oppress any who oppose them. They bring death, destruction, and desolation, and then call it peace as they take what they will. We will know the final way when our gods tell us it is so. Until that time, we watch and we learn.”

  “And what will happen to you, Chaeri, Graferi, and Yaaneri when that time comes to pass?” Queen Ankhesenamun asked, glancing between Ott and the king.

  “We will know that when the time comes.” Ott spread his hands forward.

  Tutankhamun gathered his thoughts and then spoke in a low whisper. “Otteri, what you have revealed will not be spoken of by myself or the queen to anyone. Live your lives in this kingdom at the court as you will. You shall always remain welcome. But as you do so, I ask of you one request.”

  “If it is in my power, then it shall be done,” Ott answered.

  “Otteri, if your gods return for you while you are with us, I wish to know them.”

  “It is our gods only who can answer your request, but I pledge to you that if they return for us in this land, I shall ask it of them,” Ott finished as he rose.

  As Ott retreated through the entrance, Tutankhamun shifted his gaze to Ankhesenamun. “Heka bau?” he whispered, as he gently squeezed her hand.

  86

  Although Ott had felt a strange catharsis from his revelation to the king and queen, he was also experiencing a growing regret. What he had revealed could in some way change their lives. On occasions when in the presence of the king, he noticed Tutankhamun would stare at him with consternation and confusion. At other times, Ott sensed an air of foreboding in the king’s countenance. It was particularly palpable during religious rituals and in the presence of the palace priests.

  Ott’s growing uneasiness was not unfounded. What he had revealed to Tutankhamun played in the young king’s mind every day and was gradually causing misgivings about, what until now, had been his most fervent beliefs.

  The pantheon of over two thousand gods and goddesses and their hierarchal order had evolved over more than two thousand years. Their powers and spheres of influence as interpreted by the priests were believed to govern all matters of life and activity in the kingdom. Their worship was underpinned by thousands of priests who conducted countless rituals and ceremonies to petition their favor and praise them for their benevolence. Statues and temples existed everywhere in the kingdom, and their likenesses were emblazoned on every major structure. Commoners and nobles alike prayed to the gods and believed they were responsible for everything that happened in the kingdom and that they lived as immortals in the eternal afterlife.

  For the first and only time in his life, Tutankhamun was conflicted about his belief in the gods. Now, whenever he thought about Ott and the others, he did so with a growing sense of trepidation. Should he believe what Ott had revealed? There was no way to refute what he had witnessed at the oasis. They appeared immortal, yet they denied being neteru or even bau. But they were protected by their gods and had been sent to learn “the way.” If that were true, then how powerful must their gods be? Were their gods more powerful than the gods of Misr? Were Barjeen and Robfebe the true omnipotent gods of all kingdoms of the world?

  All that had happened since meeting Ott, Cha, Graf, and Yaan was undermining his belief in the power and very existence of his own gods. And to question the gods of Misr was to question his own deistic persona as the incarnation of Amun—and the eternal afterlife. In Tutankhamun’s mind, Ott, Cha, Graf, and Yaan were slowly becoming a threat, one that should be eliminated.

  The more Tutankhamun thought about Ott and the others, the more he was plagued by the growing confusion and doubts. The questions gnawed at his consciousness during the day and at night in troubled sleep. Had Ott told him the truth? Did the gods he spoke of really exist? If they did, did they have power over the gods of Misr?

  Tutankhamun would have the answers sooner than he imagined.

  Ott, Cha, Graf, and Yaan sat on the rear portico of the villa and watched as the setting sun bled streaks of gold and orange through the clusters of clouds just above the horizon on the far side of the placid river. They sat in silence. The decision had been made, and it was unanimous. They would leave Misr and travel back to a port city on the Wadj-Wer. Which city, they weren’t sure, but they would leave soon. Their existence in Misr was changing, and they knew it was becoming disruptive. If they wanted to return, they would do so after a hundred years or more had passed and all memory of them was forgotten. But for now, it was best that they leave.

  The king’s assurance of silence was well intentioned, but Horemheb, Ay, and some of the attendants had also witnessed what had happened at the oasis. Word had quickly traveled through the royal court and among the cadre of priests who frequented the palace and tended the hundreds of temples and shrines throughout the city. Within weeks, it had spread completely through the city with speculation and rumors soaring rampant on
the winds of gossip. Whenever Ott and the others visited, they couldn’t help but notice the steadily growing number of sidelong glances and quizzical stares that targeted them. The silent scrutiny was particularly obvious when they were anywhere near the high priests. Their stares had become venomous, and Ott could sense the contempt with which they were now viewed. The priests were feeling threatened, and they had the king’s ear. It was not inconceivable that their urging might convince Tutankhamun to take drastic measures. The idea of chariots and soldiers arriving in the middle of the night, hacking everyone to pieces and then torching the villas, was a very real possibility.

  It was time to leave the land of the Remeth.

  With the decision made, Ott prepared for the departure. First writing on papyrus scrolls in hieratic script, he assigned ownership of all but one of their ships to the men in his employ who commanded them. He instructed them to remain silent about it until after they had left. Next, he prepared two additional scrolls. The first gave ownership of one of the villas to the husband-and-wife team who directed the attendants and workers who maintained the structures, gardens, and surrounding grounds. The second scroll passed ownership of the other villa to the husband-and-wife overseers responsible for the estate’s agricultural and livestock production. The gifts would place the two couples among the wealthiest landowners in the entire kingdom. Neither couple had expected this generosity, and they were overcome and taken with genuine sorrow when Ott announced that he, Cha, Graf, and Yaan would be leaving and not returning. Once those matters had been taken care of, Ott and the others set about at a task that would assure them adequate resources to reestablish themselves should they ever return to Misr.

  In a rocky, barren area a good distance from the oasis, the landscape transitioned to craggy, low-lying cliffs that stretched into the empty desert beyond. Midway along the stretch of cliffs, a natural rock formation carved by thousands of years of blowing sand jutted against the sky in the shape of a near-perfect crescent moon. At the base of the cliff below the moon-shaped rock was a cave entrance all but obscured by surrounding boulders. Ott had discovered the cave over a hundred years before while hunting. Now it would serve his purposes well.

  There were fifteen identical boxes in the building attached to the far rear of Ott and Cha’s villa. Each box was two feet square and constructed of solid ebony lined with copper sheeting for extra strength. The boxes were sealed with snug lids and further strengthened and secured with wound copper cords that encircled them. The boxes were heavy, but not just because of the thick ebony and copper construction; the weight was due to their contents. Each box was full of jewelry, small statuary, and other items, all finely crafted from solid gold and most adorned with precious stones and lapis lazuli. The items had been obtained over hundreds of years of trading along the river. If Ott and the others ever returned to Misr, the cache would be more than enough to reestablish themselves in a land they had called home for so many centuries.

  Using a large, four-wheeled cart pulled by oxen, it took several trips to transport the gold-laden boxes to the cave. Satisfied the cache was well hidden, they next turned their attention to the ship moored on the river below their villas. The ship was sound and seaworthy. They would sail it up the river, through the delta region, and into the Wadj-Wer Sea. From there they would follow the coastline north and navigate east along the far shore to Antakya.

  With plans and preparations made, they used the next day to take the chariots out, give the crescent-moon cave a final check, and then return to the villa for an early dinner. They would depart the following morning.

  As the early-morning sunlight streamed through the lush oasis, Ott and Graf finished harnessing the horses. Cha and Yaan joined them a few moments later. They all knew this trip wasn’t necessary. The cave was well concealed, where no one ever traveled. But this was to be their last day in a land they had grown to love over the centuries, and riding the chariots over the land was the way they wished to remember it.

  Cha smiled as she climbed in the chariot next to Ott and grasped the side rail. Fresh and spirited, the horses shook their heads and pranced ahead, wanting to break, but Ott pulled the reins taut to keep the team in check along the narrow roadway. With Graf and Yaan trailing behind, Ott guided the horses along the road for several minutes and then headed toward the far end of the oasis that opened to the wilderness beyond.

  Approaching the edge of the oasis, the palms and greenery thinned and finally transitioned to the barren expanse of packed red dirt and sand. The cliffs jutted above the horizon in the distance. The young horses pranced, eager to run, and now in the open, Ott and Graf slapped the reins and gave them their heads. The chariots jolted ahead as the powerful animals lurched forward to a full gallop across the smooth surface.

  The ride was exhilarating, and with the warm, clear desert wind washing across their faces, Ott, Cha, Graf, and Yaan laughed and whooped with the thrill. After a long gallop, the horses slowed and Ott and Graf reined them in to a comfortable trot. The chariots churned over the open wilderness for the better part of the morning. As the sun neared midpoint in the sky, they approached the cliffs and the crescent-moon formation came into full view.

  The hidden cave was on the opposite side of the cliffs. Ott and Graf reined the horses to the left, paralleling the jutting peaks, and headed to a point where the cliffs angled down and gave way to the desert sand and the way around to the opposite side. Ott and Graf swung the teams wide as they neared the turn and then pulled them around toward the opposite side. They slowed the horses to a walk and continued ahead for another two hundred yards as they guided the horses to the backside of the cliffs. As they completed the maneuver, Ott’s jaw fell agape.

  Looming ominously above the desert like a redoubtable monolith, the craft’s surface shimmered in the bright sunlight like highly polished black chrome. Its rectangular front was over two hundred stories high and stretched to well over two hundred yards in width. The sides angled off and disappeared into the desert. Along the leading edge at the top of the craft, a white mist spiraled into the sky. As the horses fidgeted in their harnesses and pawed at the ground, everyone stared in stunned silence at the monstrous ship that sat framed by the endless blue sky above and the vast desert all around.

  There was a wide opening in the facing section of the craft, and Ott detected movement in the interior. After a few moments, the horses settled. With a nod to Graf, Ott flicked his reins and the chariots rolled forward. They approached to within a few yards of the opening, pulled to a stop, and watched as two white-clad figures emerged. They stopped for a few seconds before stepping out into the glaring light of the desert sun. Ott’s eyes widened in recognition and a smile spread across his face. Standing before the chariots, Asil and Ece smiled back.

  87

  Ott, Cha, Graf, and Yaan stared in silence, then with a flood of emotion they clamored forward and embraced Asil and Ece. On a viewing platform high above, Barjeen and Robfebe watched the reunion, smiling in satisfied silence. The chosen ones had returned again.

  In the quiet joy of being in the moment, Asil stepped back and looked to each of their faces. “We are together once again,” he said softly, “and there are many things to share. But first there are things to attend to. Come.”

  Instead of turning back to the ship, Asil walked forward and stood to the side of Ott’s chariot as Ece stepped beside the other chariot.

  “And bring the chariots. I see they are marked in a special way.” He smiled as he stepped up.

  Ott laughed and climbed into the chariot as Cha stepped up next to Asil. Graf climbed in the other chariot and took the reins as Ece and Yaan climbed in beside him. Asil flicked his finger toward the entrance of the mammoth craft, and Ott and Graf rolled the chariots ahead. They moved through the entrance, where dozens of white-clad crew members studied the horses with inquisitive stares. Blue-clad biosyndrones looked out from the depths of the interior and from platforms and structures above and along the walls of the
vaulted bay.

  Along the far side of the entrance were several squared-off openings. Asil directed Ott to a large one off to the right. As Ott and Graf guided the horses to the second opening, the light dimmed and a low hum permeated the bay. Ott looked back in time to see the huge opening leading out to the desert shimmer and then obscure the desert entirely. The bay was sealed.

  Ott and Graf inched the chariots through the second opening into a chamber the shape of a giant bell jar. Asil directed them to the center of the chamber, where they reined the horses to a stop. A moment later the air became warmer and denser. What they were experiencing, however, was not the air at all, but a web of millions of nanofibers, each less than half the thickness of a human cell. The sensor fibers were so thin they were virtually invisible, and their presence appeared as nothing more than slightly diminished light around the chariots.

  Seconds after the sensors were activated, the data retrieval was completed. In addition to the biochemical read, a different cluster of fibers retrieved the information stored in the cranial chips that had been implanted in Ott and the others’ neocortices from the time they had first been taken. Within seconds of entering the fiber array, all their memories, thoughts, and conversations extending back over thirty thousand years were retrieved, analyzed, and evaluated.