Keystone

by Talbot, Luke

  She had often wondered about them, in the aftermath of the Chaos. About them, Southampton and indeed the rest of the United Kingdom. Britain was such a natural target that it was hard to imagine much of it could have survived. She knew why George wanted to return, she felt it too; the pang of guilt at being safe and well, mixed with curiosity and homesickness. He was a natural optimist, believing that their home was probably safe. There were days when she agreed. In any case, no news of the UK had reached them for many years. It made her sad to think about it, so she tried not to. Jake was more important to her now anyway. Getting him, and his future, away from the dying embers of Egypt and off to a better climate was her only priority.

  The sound of the door opening snatched her from her reverie. Turning in their seats they saw that Omar Abdel-Rahman and the man with the hook-nose had entered the room.

  Omar sat down on the sofa opposite them.

  Gail had already started flicking through the pages of the magazine, looking for the Amarna article.

  “I see you have found my favourite magazine,” he smiled. “Joking aside, though, it is a poor article. I was particularly disappointed by the way in which they downplayed your part in the discovery. ‘Gail Turner sat down to take some rest and found herself sitting on the most important archaeological discovery of the century’, they said.” He cocked his head and looked at her. “Surely there was more to it than that?”

  “Actually, quite a bit more,” she began with a frog in her throat. She cleared it nervously. “Ben, one of your guests in the warehouse, did all of the sitting. I saw he was sitting on something important.”

  “I see!” he slapped his hands together with glee. “But that didn’t make for such a good sub-title, did it? The editors took some poetic licence to make it sound more, dare I say it, Hollywood?”

  She shifted in her seat. “I’m sure it was an honest mistake. There were more important things in the article, although,” she hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Although I do agree with you that it wasn’t very scientific.”

  Omar grinned again with glee. “How interesting! Tell me,” he said, leaning towards her and lowering his voice, “what else did you find in the Library that hasn’t yet been published?”

  “What do you want us to have found?” she asked cautiously.

  He raised his hands defensively. “Nothing, I am purely interested scientifically.”

  “Why do you have Aniquilus alongside Allah on your emblem,” she challenged, nodding towards a framed picture on the mantelpiece. “What does it have to do with Islam?” She sensed George tense up at this, and so hurriedly added “if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Because Islam is the one true faith, and our way of life is the only acceptable way of life,” he answered without batting an eyelid. “And at the same time, we are a proud Egyptian people. Our heritage is the birth of civilisation. The Stickman represents that foundation, the legitimacy of our people to not be subservient to the western world.”

  “So you brought religion and nationalism together, to take over Egypt and run it as an Islamic state?” she sighed. “That sort of thing doesn’t usually end well.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And yet it was the liberal west that destroyed humanity, was it not?” Omar leaned forwards and picked up the National Geographic. He flipped directly to a specific page and looked up at her before reading out loud.

  “For now, we shall have to call this new symbol ‘Stickman’; we don’t know if it’s a person, a god, a concept, or even a place or time. With the texts studied so far revealing nothing on this enigmatic symbol, we have to accept that we may never know what, or who, it represents.”

  Gail felt strange hearing her own words, as quoted by the journalist, read aloud. It was like hearing a recording of your own voice. She couldn’t help thinking how naïve her younger self had been.

  Omar placed the magazine back on the coffee table. “Dr Turner, political and ideological differences aside, I would very much appreciate it if you could enlighten me.” He crossed his legs, clasping his knee with both hands as he leant back into the sofa.

  His body language, tone of voice and even the look on his face told her that she had little choice. And the safety of her friends, husband and son might hinge on her cooperating.

  She sighed. “There was a second book, one that was hidden as soon as it was found. I myself only learnt of it shortly before the Chaos, nine years after the discovery of the Library.”

  He leant forward once more, already fascinated by this new information.

  Gail wasn’t a betting person, nor had she ever had a keen eye for business, but she knew this might be her only chance. “If you reconsider our request for a boat, so that our companions can leave Egypt, I will tell you everything that was contained within the second book.”

  There was silence for several minutes, before he replied.

  “You would need food, and boats large enough are difficult to come by these days, even for us. You would also need some of our knowledge of safe areas to go to and travel through. It goes without saying you would also need some medical supplies,” he said pensively, listing the items on his fingers. “However, we are good people, as you have seen, and I am a good man. More importantly, I am a scholar at heart, and your promise has whetted my appetite.”

  Chapter 98

  Jake stood on the deck of the large trawler that Omar Abdel-Rahman had, seemingly out of nowhere, decided to let them use. He looked out over the docks where men busied themselves ferrying various crates and odds and ends from the large warehouses on the dockside to the bowels of the ship.

  Before long, the last bundle had been stowed away, and Omar Abdel-Rahman joined Gail, George, Zahra and Ben on the dockside. The man with the hook-nose reported briefly to Omar, but the stiff sea breeze made it impossible for Jake to hear what they were saying.

  Jake looked on as hook-nose boarded the ship and disappeared below deck, then looked to his mother in interest. Most of the travellers were now already on board, and had been preparing their living quarters. It did not occur to Jake, until he saw six more men boarding, that none of his own people knew how to pilot such a craft, nor knew how to navigate the high seas.

  It dawned on him that they would not be making their trip on their own, and that the vessel was a loan, and not a gift.

  “You look confused?” a voice said behind him.

  Jake turned with a start and saw hook-nose standing on deck, with a length of coiled rope in one hand and a nonchalant smile drawn across his face.

  “It seems,” he continued as he extended his hand, “that we are to be ship-mates for the foreseeable future. My name is Mehmet.”

  Jake shook the hand despite himself. This was the detestable man that a day earlier had threatened his mother and had held them all in dire conditions with little to eat or drink. The man who had looked down on them all from the walkway inside the warehouse and held his mother at gunpoint was now shaking his hand.

  “Why –” Jake began, withdrawing his arm sharply.

  “This is our ship,” Mehmet interrupted. “And you require passage to Italy. And yet none of your people know how the ship works. So you need a crew. The ship is valuable, but the fuel we will use is even more so. We are also keen to communicate and trade with Europe, and so you will be our passengers.”

  Jake looked back at his mother and father, who were now talking quietly to each other on the docks.

  “Your mother and Omar Abdel-Rahman are responsible for this. If it were up to me, then my hospitality would not have been so far-reaching. And yet,” he nodded towards the dockside, “they appear to have quite a lot in common, at least academically.”

  Something about the way in which his parents were talking, their body language, the way in which they were looking at the ship, and at him, suddenly made Jake feel uneasy.

  He started towards the gangway, leaving Mehmet behind him.

  “I don’t know how to do this, George,” Gail gasp
ed, fighting back her emotions. “It was difficult knowing I would have to say goodbye, but now –”

  “We can go with them?” George suggested, a glimmer of hope in his voice.

  She hesitated, but not long enough for George’s hope to remain intact. “No,” she swallowed and evened the creases in her shirt with her palms. “I have to do this.” There was finality in her voice, and it still weighed down on them both as Jake reached them, the one word on his mind escaping on a breath.

  “Mum,” he pleaded.

  She said nothing, but opened her arms wide and accepted his embrace.

  “Mum!” he sobbed as he buried his face deep into her shoulder and collapsed against her. “I’m staying with you,” he said suddenly, holding her at arms’ length. His face was a mess of tears and hurt.

  “No, Jake,” she said softly. “You’re not. You have to go and live your life. This may be your only chance.”

  “Then come with us! There must be enough room on the boat, and if there isn’t then we’ll make room!”

  Gail looked at him, this man who had suddenly become a frightened little boy again. She had spent her life caring for him, making sure he was safe, making sure he didn’t stray too far, and yet here she was pushing him away. She broke down, unable to fight back the flood of emotions she’d been building up for days now.

  As she sobbed into Jake’s chest, George put his hands on both their shoulders, comforting them.

  “Jake, you must go with the group to Europe,” he tried desperately to fight back his own tears. “They’ll need your language skills, and your strength. Your mother has to return to Amarna. There’s something very important that she has to do.” He didn’t mention the fact that neither he nor Gail had any idea what that important thing was.

  They held each other tightly in a circle. George let his statements sink in for a few moments before continuing, his voice more steady now.

  “Once we have returned from Amarna, we will be safe here in Abu Qir. Omar has assured us of that. And then we can meet again, here or in Europe.” George didn’t expect his son or his wife to believe that, but nonetheless it seemed to calm some of their nerves down and they were able, somehow, to enjoy their last few hours together, speaking more than in the past few weeks combined.

  There was something quite hypnotic about the boat as it left with the tide, diesel fumes and engine noise bringing back memories of a long-gone era of technological advancement that Gail would probably never see again.

  The sun broke through the clouds on the horizon just long enough for the boat to be picked out by its rays, like a tiny insect in the undulating sands of the desert.

  And then it was gone, the sea descended into darkness.

  She looked on long after it was out of sight and the sun had set, following it in her mind’s eye. Willing, and wishing, it well.

  George covered her shoulders with a blanket and rubbed them gingerly. She continued to look into the darkness in silence, the cold wind playing with her hair and cooling the warm tears as they ran down her cheeks.

  She closed her eyes and wept “I love you, my baby.” A gust of wind took the words from her lips and carried them out to sea towards the lonely vessel.

  Chapter 99

  The journey south was far quicker, due in no small part to the role of four of their donkeys, which they had been allowed to keep, and a two-wheeled cart. The last two donkeys had been given to Omar Abdel-Rahman, in part exchange for the safe passage of their people to Europe. The academic in him wanted to go with Gail, to see the wonders that she had described. But with his second-in-command on a ship to Italy, he couldn’t afford to leave their stronghold without a leader.

  Omar had reasoned, accurately, that after their journey they would return to Abu Qir, for news of their son and friends, possible passage to Italy themselves, and lack of anywhere else safe to go.

  He had been more than surprised, shocked in fact, to learn of the Xynutians. And while at first he had been sceptical, he had to concede that there was no real reason for Gail to lie to him.

  What had been most difficult for him to accept was the fact that his god had created the Xynutians. He had then wiped the slate clean and created modern humans.

  It was a hard concept to grasp.

  “The Great Flood,” Gail had explained, “is a legend that is present in nearly all cultures in one form or another. God was unhappy with his creation, and so decided to start again.”

  “Of course, as is the case with the Qur’an with the story of Nuh.”

  “Noah,” Gail agreed. Indeed the story of Noah, present in the book of Genesis in the Bible, was also told twice in the Qur’an, with striking similarities to the Old Testament text. “In China, India, Australia, Finland, Greece, the list goes on: dozens of accounts of epic floods that threatened civilisation.”

  “You could argue that most civilisations are built near rivers and the sea, and that floods are bound to happen at some stage,” George had suggested.

  “Or,” Omar had said in wonder. “You could argue that all the legends have the same root: Man emerged from a cataclysm so great that its memory survived thousands of years until the emergence of written language in the Middle East six thousand years ago.”

  “And that,” Gail added with a smile, “instead of this flood being a recent event it was a much more ancient apocalypse that had been passed on in stories for hundreds of thousands of years.”

  After a short pause, Omar arrived at the same conclusion Gail had, years earlier, when confronted with the book of Xynutians by Professor Henry Patterson.

  “I see a flaw,” he started. “In the Qur’an, and also in the Bible, Nuh, or Noah, his family and fellow believers were spared. And yet these Xynutians disappear completely, no record of them in archaeology. Where are they? Why didn’t they rebuild?”

  “I thought the same thing. It’s possible that they, like us, had become over-reliant on technology, and those who were left descended into barbarity quickly, forgetting everything.” She paused, and looked him in the eyes. “But since then, I found out what really happened to the last of the Xynutians.

  “For a start, the Xynutians and modern man evolved separately. We know that the Xynutians, before their demise, were already fighting with early hominids who to them must have seemed like advanced chimpanzees to us. It’s possible that after Aniquilus, there was interbreeding of early hominids and Xynutians.

  “Not all Xynutians perished here though, as we’ve seen with the findings on Mars. Some left Earth behind and fled not just to the red planet, but also to the stars. God only knows how many are left roaming the planets of nearby solar systems, or whether the last of their kind died out hundreds of thousands of years ago, exhausted. It’s a fascinating thought that there may be millions of them living out there somewhere; maybe like us they themselves have no memory of where they came from, save for legends and religion.

  “Of those who remained on Earth, most were wiped out. Despite their technology, which was far more advanced than our own, whatever rained down on them wasn’t simply a flood made of water. They were, effectively, annihilated.”

  “You say most,” Omar enquired. “What remained?”

  “The Xynutians left their people to die or fight for their survival on the surface, exposed to the elements, they had no choice. But a select few could be guaranteed safety. An army, their scientists, leaders, workers and farmers were saved. They built an ark deep underground, with animals, seeds, technology; everything needed to rebuild their civilisation from the ground up was stored, ready for a time when they could rise again. This was something the ancient Egyptians discovered, and tried to emulate in their own way.”

  “Where is this ark?”

  “Underneath Tell el-Amarna.”

  Chapter 100

  Gail, George, Zahra and Ben reached Amarna less than a week later, to the surprise of the old couple who lived there. They were more than happy to share their house one more time, but Gail insisted that
they camp on the banks of the Nile.

  As they sat around the campfire that night, George laughed.

  “Omar was itching to come with us; that would have been interesting!”

  “I don’t care how much he’s helped us,” Zahra sneered. “I would not have held back from saying what I think about him and his men.”

  Ben grinned and drew her head to the warmth of his chest. “Always fire in your heart, isn’t there, my dear?”

  “He is an extremist, and extremists want to control things,” Zahra said bitterly. “We will see how accommodating our host is when your archaeological stories start to wear thin.”

  They watched the fire crackling lazily at the remnants of a thick log that Ben had dragged up from the banks of the Nile; sparks rose on the hot air into the darkness, like crazed fireflies disappearing into the night.

  “I understand why Omar was so interested,” Ben said pensively. “I know we’ve discussed this, and I know you’ve told us that this is something you have to do, but now that we’re here, Gail,” he hesitated, trying to find the right words, before settling with the simplest he could think of. “What now?”

  She looked across the fire at him and Zahra. Through thick and thin they had followed her; from saving her life before the war, to helping her, George and their new-born child make it through the early years. Now they had sacrificed the option of going with their people to Europe just to be with her.

  Gail rose, rounded the campfire and crouched before them.

  “Thank you Ben, Zahra, for always being there, and for always believing in me. You have been my dearest friends.”

  She embraced and hugged them both for what seemed an age, before getting to her feet and going to her tent. She said over her shoulder, “I have to sleep now, as do you George, but in the morning, I hope, you will have all the answers you could possibly want.”