She was running along the river. Her heart was pounding. She knew it was following her. She could sense its presence, but she couldn't see it. She tripped over something and looked down. It was a body—a dead body ... Her face paled at the sight. I can't stop now. It will catch me if I do. I have to keep running, keep the secret...
When she snapped back to reality, she realised she had to act on her instinct. She had to run—run as far away from that place as she could.
Hardly able to control her voice, she said, “I would like to go back."
“We cannot go back now. We have an appointment to keep,” Hasan said, and she could sense that he was dismayed, but she couldn't care less.
“If you're not taking me back, I'm going back on my own,” she insisted.
Robert looked at her sideways. “Don't be ridiculous, Cathy. What has gotten into you? You're not acting rationally. You can't expect us to return now."
She looked from the one to the other, and felt the panic rise inside her. You're not taking me seriously. She looked from the backs of Hasan and Abdul's heads to the door handle. If you aren't going to take me home, then I will go by myself. She put her hand on the handle and pushed it down.
“Cathy! What are you doing?” Robert called out, reaching over trying to prevent her from jumping out of the slow-moving car, but he was too late.
As she struck the tarmac, the driver of the car behind them hit his brakes and laid on the horn. For a split second she sat there startled, and then jumped up to flee into the traffic, unaware of the chaos she was causing as she ran along the busy street. Her mind was racing and her thoughts were confused. The tiny part that was still normal was telling her her actions were completely irrational, but she chose to ignore it. Her heart was beating rapidly and she could feel the sweat of fear on her forehead.
Cathy!
She slowed down for a second. She knew that voice in her head. It was Eqin's. Impossible. “Eqin?” She stopped in the middle of the street, in the way of oncoming traffic. Several drivers were laying on the horns and had resorted to swearing insults at her, but she hardly noticed them.
Cathy, stop! Think what you are doing!
She turned around, recognising Eqin's face, his eyes. She reached out her hand to touch his face. “Eqin. You're alive,” she said with wonder in her voice.
“Cathy, what are you doing?” Robert's voice suddenly brought her back to reality, and she pulled back her hand. She looked around confused.
Where's Eqin gone? He was here a minute ago.
Robert's fingers dug deeply into her upper arms as he pulled to the safety of the side curb. “Cathy, what are you doing? Eqin's dead. He died many years ago. I'm Robert."
Cathy looked at him, but she didn't really see him. Eqin wasn't dead. Why would no-one believe her? She started crying and felt Robert pull her closer as if wanting to comfort her. His hand was caressing the back of her head.
“Dear, Cathy ... what is happening to you?"
* * *
Chapter 7
Robert woke up with a jolt. He'd been keeping an eye on Cathy as she slept in her room in Hasan's house, and inevitably nodded off. Panicky, still half-asleep, he stared around in the room and instantly realized she'd gone. Thoroughly alarmed he stumbled from the chair.
He yanked the door open and shouted her name.
“Cathy! Cathy!"
As his voice echoed down the empty passage, he knew he'd probably wake up the others in the house but he couldn't care less. All he cared about at that moment was that Cathy had gone and he had to find her.
Within seconds, fully dressed servants were appearing from nowhere. He frowned, wondering if anyone ever slept in that house.
But then, Professor Al-Abud came out of his room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
“Dr. Pearson, what is the problem?” he asked drowsily.
“It's Cathy. She's gone."
The news seemed to distress the old man. Speaking to them in their mother tongue, he ordered the servants to look for her and they scurried in all directions. Minutes later they were back, shaking their heads. Cathy was nowhere to be found.
She was gone.
The old man suddenly seemed wide-awake. “Come, we must go and look for her. Change, and we will meet downstairs,” he ordered.
In less than a minute Robert was downstairs, his beard unshaven and his hair still ruffled. He hadn't taken the time to change his clothes or shave his beard before keeping watch over Cathy. He looked a mess, but it didn't bother him. There were more important things on his mind.
Abdul was already waiting for them with the car, and a few moments later, they were driving down the quiet night streets of Cairo.
* * * *
Far outside the city, Cathy was walking slowly; her bare feet sinking into the white desert sand with every step she took. She couldn't remember how she'd gotten there—it didn't matter anyway. She was on her way home, and that was the only thing that mattered.
The cold wind blew tiny pieces of sand against her bare legs and her meagre clothes, but she didn't notice. She was oblivious of the desert around her. In her mind, there were luscious green shrubs, tropical flowers and soft grass at her feet.
Her eyes were fixed on the night sky, on Orion looming in the distance, beckoning her home. She could feel an overwhelming, inexplicable longing to be somewhere else—somewhere out there.
A woman in a long white kalasiris approached her. Her burning black eyes seemed full of concern. She spoke without sound, but Cathy could understand every word.
Where are you going?
Cathy shrugged her shoulders. “Home."
Where is home? the woman asked.
Cathy looked up at the night sky and pointed at the Orion nebula. “There ... that's home."
How are you going to get there?
Cathy looked at her puzzled. “Don't you know?"
Know what? the woman asked.
“My soul will go there."
The woman seemed thrown. Your soul?
“Yes. My soul. I want my soul to go there,” Cathy said with determination.
But that means you have to die first, said the woman.
“I guess,” Cathy said impassively. She showed a packet of razor blades to the woman. “See? I'm going home."
She sat on the sand and started unpacking them one by one, lining them up neatly in a row.
It's not your time yet, advised the woman, and knelt down beside her. Her long black hair fell across her shoulders as she reached to place her hand over Cathy's. There are things you still have to do.
Cathy looked into the burning eyes. “No, it's my time. I have to go home."
The woman shook her head, refusing to let go of her hand. No. You will find another way to go home. Not this way.
Cathy looked down at the blades, her thoughts muddled.
What does she mean? It's the only way. There is no other. Not for me.
When she looked up again, the woman had gone. Disappointed, she shrugged her shoulders and kept on unpacking the blades. For a moment, in the soft moonlight she saw herself reflected in them, a look of insanity in her eyes...
* * * *
Hasan's dark eyes scanned the dark streets. He sensed that she had gone into the desert skirting the town. But on foot and with only an hour's start? He shook his head impatiently. Without saying a word, he pointed towards the desert and Abdul turned the car. Hasan took little cognisance of the strange looks Robert was giving them. The younger man was the least of his concerns. He had to find Cathy and soon—before she crossed the line between normality and insanity.
Frustrated, he tapped his fingers on his leg. The scarab brooch was supposed to give her the first injection of the nanovirus that would reconstruct her alien memory, and he knew it had been successful. The second dose was a stronger one to speed up the process, but it had happened too fast. It should have taken at least a few weeks, not a few days. He hadn't had enough time to learn all he needed to know, and
Cathy was the best source he'd ever had. Her memories were clear—clearer than any of the other humans he'd used—but something wasn't right. There is something about her ... Perhaps he'd waited too long to administer the nanovirus. It was a pity the humans had such an adverse reaction to the latent memories it stirred up...
As they reached the outskirts of town, Hasan's body stiffened. He sensed her presence, and pointed towards the dark desert. “Go that direction, Abdul,” he said, using his audible voice.
Abdul looked at him sideways. “We cannot drive there by car, Sir. We will have to walk."
“Fine. Let us walk there then. Take the flashlights,” Hasan said irritably. He couldn't lose his most valuable source of information just yet, and the longer they hesitated, the slimmer the chances that they would find her alive.
Within minutes, the three men had left the car and were walking in the direction Hasan had indicated. Their flashlights streamed through the moonlit night.
It wasn't long before they caught sight of the lone figure of a woman sitting cross-legged in the desert. She was playing with something in front of her.
Robert started running the moment he saw her. He called out to her, but the woman didn't react. She seemed oblivious of everything and everyone around her. Her eyes were fixed on the sky, and the moonlight caught her features. She had a demented look about her.
For a split second, a memory flashed through Hasan's mind. It was of his ancestors, passed on through many generations, and he retreated.
It couldn't be, could it?
A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. It was not possible. For generations they had waited, and eventually they gave up—she would not come back...
Robert had knelt in front of her, shaking her by the shoulders. “Cathy! Cathy, look at me!"
Cathy stared as if trying to recognise him. “Robert? I want to go home."
“I'll take you home,” he offered, helping her up from the sand.
“Are we going now?” she asked with the voice of a child.
“Yes."
She smiled brightly. “I'm glad. We celebrated the harvest yesterday. My daddy is the Satraps, you know."
“Yes, I know,” Robert said patiently, but Hasan knew he had no idea what she was talking about. He smiled to himself. It was just as well.
Let them think she is crazy. It will only be to my benefit.
Robert took off his jacket and threw it over Cathy's shoulders.
Neither Hasan nor Abdul said anything. They exchanged a meaningful glance, but kept a polite distance. It was important Robert wouldn't get suspicious.
Hasan watched as he protectively guided Cathy back to the car. Humans had an unusual sense of wanting to care for another. It was a peculiar sentiment. Perhaps it was a means to make them feel important.
Every now and again Cathy stopped, and looked up at the sky. “When will we be home?"
“Soon,” Robert answered.
When he gave her the same answer the third time, Cathy stamped her bare foot angrily in the sand.
“No. I want to go home now.” She turned to Hasan. “You can take me there. You know how."
“No, I can't. Robert will help you,” Hasan said evenly, ignoring Robert's concerned glance.
She shook her head fervently. “No, he can't. He's human. You're not. Neither are you, Abdul. You can take me home."
Hasan didn't answer. He wasn't completely caught unaware by her question. It had happened before that humans infected with the nanovirus would recognise him for who he was—but it was uncomfortable to be confronted in front of another human. Fortunately, Robert simply believed Cathy had gone insane. Good. He smiled inwardly again. Maybe he could still get something out of her after all, before the nanovirus completed its work...
* * * *
That night there was a knock at Robert's bedroom door. When he opened it, an expressionless Abdul was standing in the passage. “Dr. Pearson, the hospital phoned. Dr. McNeal has recovered consciousness, but she is very weak. They do not expect her to survive the night. Professor Al-Abud is on his way to the hospital. He asked if you would like to join him,” he said.
Abdul's words came as a shock. Although Robert had been expecting the news, it still caught him unaware. It had happened all so quickly.
“Yes ... I'll just grab my coat,” he mumbled indistinctly, trying to keep his feelings in check.
After they had found Cathy in the desert, they had rushed her to the hospital, but the doctors couldn't diagnose her illness. One even suggested that she had been using some kind of drug and had taken an overdose—one that would kill her. He could have killed that doctor. Cathy would never have used any form of drug; let alone one that would endanger her life.
The ride to the hospital was painful. None of the men said a single word. Not that Robert cared much. It all seemed so surreal. One moment they were spending a wonderful time in London and the next moment the woman of his dreams was literally dying in a foreign hospital.
The hospital was remarkably quiet. Visiting hours had long passed, and only the night staff was left. Solemnly Robert and Hasan headed towards Cathy's private room. A nurse approached them in the eerie stillness of the passage, addressing the Professor hesitantly in Arabic and appearing extremely apologetic. At first, Robert thought nothing of it, but when Professor Al-Abud answered her in a clipped, angry tone, he knew that something was seriously amiss. His first thought was that Cathy had died, and, shoving the nurse out of the way, rushed to the private room at the end of the passage. He expected the worst, but instead he found an empty bed. He hesitated. “Where is she?” he barked.
The nurse looked at him with wide eyes and shook her head. Another nurse, apparently English speaking, came hurrying out of another ward. “Please keep your voice down, Sir,” she said sternly.
“Where is Dr. McNeal?” he demanded.
“She has been transferred to another hospital,” she said steadily.
“Why?"
She shrugged her shoulders. “A relative requested it."
Robert frowned. “Which relative? Which hospital?"
“I don't know, Sir. You'll have to ask the day staff,” she responded coolly.
Frustrated by her lack of cooperation, Robert clenched his fists. “This is unacceptable. To where has she been transferred? You must know."
She remained remarkably unhelpful. “I'm sorry, Sir, I don't."
Robert was about to let her have it when Professor Al-Abud intervened. In a clipped tone, he addressed the first nurse again and Robert saw the nurse squirm. Then she walked over to the counter, picked up the phone, dialled a number and spoke in a hushed tone. After about fifteen minutes, she put down the receiver, and informed the second nurse of what she had learnt. The latter turned to them and said evenly, “Dr. McNeal has been transferred to a neighbouring hospital but she never arrived there."
Robert couldn't believe what he was hearing. How incompetent could they be? “What do you mean, she never arrived there? Where did she go?"
The nurse shook her head. “I'm sorry, Sir. I don't know. This is highly unusual."
“Who authorised the transfer?"
“Her brother."
“Her brother?” Robert and Hasan uttered the words at the same time, and looked at each other dumbfounded. “She hasn't got a brother,” Robert said.
“What did he look like?” Hasan asked.
“I don't know. I wasn't here when he organised the transfer. You'll have to speak to reception,” the nurse replied, evidently wanting to avoid more questions.
Robert was deeply upset. “What's going on here? Cathy doesn't have a brother. So, who organised the transfer? And where is she now?"
“That is a good question,” Hasan said. He seemed to mull over the nurse's answer before motioning to Robert. “Come, we must return home. From there we can get more information."
* * * *
Cathy was vaguely aware of being transported into an ambulance. Her body was in excruciating pai
n. Not even the strongest painkillers had been enough to put an end to her torment, even for a short while.
Where am I? Why am I here?
She searched her muddled mind for answers, but the harder she tried the less she could remember. It was as if her memory was slipping away bit by bit. Although her eyes were closed, she could sense the presence of other people around her. One of them leaned over her and she tried to open her eyes to see who it was, but she couldn't move her eyelids.
Her mind was unsettled. Visions of pyramids and lush vegetation kept filling her head. She could see herself laughing and playing at the riverbanks, speaking to a man in a white robe. It was as if she was watching the same movie—over and over again. A tiny speck of hope flickered in her mind. Maybe it was a movie. Was she at home?
She was in a beautiful forest, dancing in the rain. Rain, beautiful rain...
Tell me where it is.
No. No.
She wouldn't tell. She couldn't tell. Only her daddy knew.
It was in her head. She could see them: little creatures eating up her brain from the inside. Where did they come from? Nowhere, and yet from everywhere. From the sky, she thought. No. It was all in her imagination.
What's real and what isn't?
She didn't know anymore.
She felt herself slipping into an abyss of turmoil, and moaned softly. Unable to move any part of her body she lay motionless, leaving her fate in the hands of those around her. She felt so incredibly cold...
Her vital signs are weakening. The words came without sound, but Cathy could understand them clearly. We are going to lose her.
Cathy suddenly became aware of a familiar presence—Eqin.
Could it really be?
Eqin ... how she missed him...
She could feel herself slipping away. There was darkness all around her. Peace and quiet ... the voices silenced...
She was standing in a dark tunnel and there was a light ahead of her—a bright light, begging her to come closer.
I'm coming ... she said, happy she could be finally free of the physical constraints and pain—but someone was holding her back. With her stare still fixed on the light, she tried to free herself, but the person wouldn't let go. Angrily she looked down at the hand holding her arm.
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