ABACUS

by Chris McGowan

  Everyone noticed how quiet he was at supper that night. “Are you sick?” asked Nefret, sounding concerned.

  “Just another headache,” he said, anxious to avoid attention. “It’ll be gone by morning.”

  “You should go to bed early,” she suggested. AP, glad of the opportunity to be alone, took her advice.

  He lay awake, thinking. “If only I had a battery,” he said to himself, “it’d be so easy.” Then he realized he could make one.

  “Tell me you’re kidding,” said Kate next day when he told her the bad news.

  “I wish I were.”

  “This is serious. I saw the Pharaoh again yesterday—I’ve seen a lot of him lately. He keeps dropping hints about the device. Well, he began with hints, but yesterday he came right out with it. That Nee guy—”

  “Nehy,” he corrected.

  “Whatever. Well, he’s going to be buried next week and Ramesses wants the device before then.”

  “Talk about pressure!” AP groaned. “There is a chance I can do it using the electrical method, but first I have to make a battery.”

  “You can’t do that,” she challenged. “Can you?”

  “Sure, anyone can. Haven’t you seen that trick where you stick a paper clip and a coin into a lemon, and feel the tingle of electricity when you put your tongue across them?”

  “Can’t say I have,” said Kate.

  “Okay, I’ve got a new shopping list. I need some more iron, but big bits this time.” He cupped a hand to show the size. “I also need some copper—that’ll be easy. I need thin sheets, the thinner the better, about as long as my arm and as wide as my hand. I’ll make…” he paused for a moment, “say three batteries, so I’ll need three sheets of copper—three chunks of iron too.” [28]

  “Hang on, I’ll never remember all this.”

  After repeating the list, he started on the other items.

  “I need some copper wire.” He stretched out his hands. “About twice this length. I’m sure they use it for making necklaces and things. And I’ll need some insulation—strips of linen dipped in oil should work.”

  “Is that it?”

  “Nearly. The only other things I need are three bucket-sized pots, and lots of vinegar, enough to fill them all.”

  “I’ll need a donkey cart for that lot.”

  “How are you going to carry it all?”

  “No problem. After my star performance for the Pharaoh, everyone’s falling over themselves to be helpful.”

  “I almost forgot. I’ll need a sheet of papyrus, something nice and fancy. And some ink and paints, bright colors would be good, and a brush.”

  “That’s really it?”

  “Absolutely. Unless you can find some chocolate bars.”

  * * *

  It was a race against time and AP wasn’t sure he would win. Making each of the batteries was easy enough. First, he rolled one of the copper sheets into a scroll, attached a length of wire, and lowered it into a pot. Then he attached a second wire to a piece of iron and placed this in the pot beside the copper, making sure they didn’t touch. Next came the acid.

  He poured in just enough vinegar to cover both pieces of metal. To check the battery was working, he touched the ends of the two wires against his tongue. “Good,” he said feeling the tingle. He then made the other two batteries, but delayed adding the vinegar.

  The piece of iron he chose to magnetize was the size of a toothpick. The difficult part was winding the wire around it to make a coil. This would have been easy using insulated wire, but he had to keep stopping to wrap the wire in oily linen. It took forever!

  AP knew the strength of the magnet increased with the number of turns of the wire, so he wound the loops close together, building up several layers. Once that was finished, he filled the remaining batteries with vinegar, connected them together, and then connected them to the coil. The current was only a fraction of what he’d get from a regular battery, so he decided to leave the coil connected for a whole day.

  “I can’t do anymore,” he thought, looking over his handiwork. “Let’s hope we’ve got a magnet by morning.”

  Kate was already waiting for him when they met the following day, which was unusual.

  “There you are!” she said, soundings stressed. “Did it work?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to check yet.”

  “But do you think it worked?”

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  AP hesitated before disconnecting the coil. Should he wait a bit longer? What difference would it make anyway? He disconnected the coil and pulled the rod free.

  “Here goes,” he said, lowering the rod toward a small scrap of iron.

  As soon as the rod made contact, he knew it wasn’t going to work, and when he raised the rod the iron stayed where it was.

  “Oh no!” gasped Kate. “What’s happened?”

  “It’s a total failure.” He stood back, shaking his head. “The current must have been too small.”

  “What are we going to do?” Kate was desperate. “And what will I tell the Pharaoh?”

  Suddenly AP had an idea—a tiny glimmer of hope. Tying the rod to a piece of thread he adjusted the position of the knot so it hung level. Then he attached the other end of the thread to the edge of the table. After spinning this way and that for a while, the rod stopped.

  “What are you doing?” asked Kate.

  “Hang on a sec.” He gave the rod a small nudge. Swinging back and forth several times, it stopped—in the same position as before. He tried a second time with the same result. “This is looking better.”

  Kate was bursting to know what was happening, but AP wasn’t ready to explain.

  “I just want to try the same experiment with the rod I hammered yesterday.”

  Tying the hammered rod to a second length of thread, he suspended it from the other end of the table. When it stopped spinning, it was pointing in the same direction as the first rod.

  “Yes!” he shouted jubilantly. “We’ve done it!”

  “It’s working?”

  “Absolutely! See? They’re both pointing in the same direction—north and south!”

  “You said it was a failure.”

  “I thought it was. When the rod didn’t pick up the iron I figured it wasn’t magnetized. I was wrong. It was magnetized—just too weakly to pick up anything.”

  Kate looked blank.

  “Just watch this,” he said, untying the hammered rod and holding it close to the other one. The suspended rod immediately started turning, bringing their two ends closer together.

  “See that, Kate? These two ends attract each other because they’re opposite poles. Now watch what happens when I use the other end of the hammered rod.” The free magnet now swung away, increasing the gap between the two ends.

  “Is that ever neat! You’re driving the other magnet away.”

  “That’s because the two ends have the same polarity—similar poles repel, opposite poles attract.”

  “Here, let me try that.”

  “Well this is a first,” he said, handing over the magnet. “Kate’s doing a science experiment!”

  “Okay,” she said a couple of minutes later. “How do we get from an iron rod that points north and south to a celestial device that points west?”

  “That’s where you and your artistic talents come in!” He handed her the papyrus and the painting supplies. “Cut out a disc, big enough to cover the rod. Then decorate it with a fancy arrow pointing to the setting sun.”

  “Are we going to just hand it over to him on a piece of string?”

  “Of course not. While you do the artwork, I’m going to make a fancy stand from these bits of wood I scrounged from Shedou’s workshop.”

  The topic of conversation changed from celestial devices to their nemesis—Snakebite.

  “He’s still around,” said AP ominously, “spying on us from a distance. And we know from our last trip that he never gives up.”

&n
bsp; “But he won’t get past my bodyguard!”

  “Where’s the big guy now?” asked AP. “I didn’t see him when I arrived.”

  “Oh he’s out there, prowling around—never lets me out of his sight. It’s kind of creepy, but I feel safe.”

  Before leaving, AP dismantled the batteries, poured away the vinegar and washed out the pots—they might come in handy later.

  Chapter 32: Tomb Robber

  Nehy’s funeral was the highlight of the social calendar and everyone who was anyone received an invitation. Naturally, that excluded mere wabs, but AP was the priestess’s wab, so there were no objections to his attending. Nor were there any objections to his being at her side throughout the ceremony, even though many important people wanted to be seen in her company.

  “That’s the Celestial Priestess,” whispered one guest. “They say her powers are greater than those of the entire priesthood put together.”

  “See how she wears the Pharaoh’s gold,” whispered another, referring to Kate’s stunning new necklace.

  The necklace was one of many gifts the Pharaoh had given her to show his appreciation for the magnetic device. Visits to the palace were now commonplace and Ramesses II had become so attentive that Kate was beginning to feel uncomfortable in his company. Maybe she was being overly sensitive—any woman in Egypt would have gladly swapped places with her.

  The funeral procession had set out from the Nehy estate just after sunrise. Tamit’s house was in the same neighborhood, and AP had spent the previous night there so that he could attend. Leaving Tamit’s house just before dawn, the Celestial Priestess and her wab were escorted to a special viewing platform, reserved for the most important guests. Not even Tamit’s father, the royal scribe, had been invited.

  Dozens of servants led the procession, carrying refreshments for the guests. There were trays of bread and cakes, baskets of fruit, and racks of roast duck and beef. Thirsty guests could choose between water, beer, or wine. Some servants carried bouquets of flowers, adding splashes of color to the spectacle. Behind the refreshments came men carrying large boxes containing the vizier’s provisions for his journey to the afterlife. Others followed carrying ceremonial items for his tomb.

  “See that painted box?” asked AP, pointing toward one of the servants. “That contains the shabtis.”

  “What’s that?” queried Kate. They had to whisper to avoid being overheard. Anyone watching probably thought they were exchanging spiritual thoughts.

  “Shabtis are small figures of servants. They’re left in the tomb in case the dead person has to labor on the land in the afterlife—the shabtis do the work for him!”

  “So what’s with all the furniture those guys behind him are carrying? They’ve even got a chariot.”

  “Those are the things he needs in the afterlife. The Egyptians believe the person comes back to life in the other world and carries on doing the same things as before.”

  Kate nodded.

  “That’s why those scribes are carrying all those scrolls and writing supplies. Nehy was the vizier, dealing with the law and government.”

  Mourners followed the scribes—family members, friends, fellow officials and servants. Behind them came two teams of men pulling on ropes, hauling a wooden sled with Nehy’s stone statue. A priest walked in front of the life-size figure waving an incense burner, with two more priests on either side. Meanwhile, men darted between the priests with flagons of water which they poured onto the road ahead to help the sled to slide.

  “That’s got to be hard work,” whispered Kate “Why not use a wagon?”

  “Maybe they can’t build wheels strong enough to take such heavy loads. They use sleds for hauling massive statues across the desert too.”

  Nehy’s sarcophagus, the last and most important part of the procession, followed behind. Shaped like a person and elaborately painted with symbols and hieroglyphs, it lay on a ceremonial boat that was being hauled on a second sled.

  The priest walking in front of the sarcophagus had a leopard skin draped over his shoulder, showing he was a sem-priest.

  “He’s in charge of the burial ceremony,” said AP. “Sem-priests spend a lot of time at the House of Embalming and Purification. They’re responsible for performing all the mummification and tomb rituals.”

  “That explains why I’ve not seen one at the temple.”

  Following closely behind the sled were a dozen young women, weeping and wailing hysterically. Their cries could be heard above the noise of the hundreds of spectators lining the route.

  “Who are they?” asked Kate.

  “They’re professional mourners. When they’ve finished here they could be going on to another funeral.”

  The Celestial Priestess and her wab, together with the other special guests, followed along at the end of the procession, which took over an hour to make its way through the town and down to the Nile. There, a fleet of boats was waiting to take everyone across to the other side. Getting the people aboard took some time. Meanwhile, the heavy sarcophagus was loaded onto a ceremonial boat filled with flowers.

  “I bet Mum and Dad’s trip along the Nile will be nothing like this,” said AP under his breath. “Have you ever seen anything like it?”

  They gazed across at the bobbing flotilla of boats, all loaded to capacity with people and goods. One boat even had a team of oxen aboard, for hauling the sleds when they reached the other side. Every so often, the professional mourners broke out into a somber chant, which carried across the still air. The crossing was slow, and the boatmen had to pull hard on their oars.

  “Look at all that silt,” said AP, pointing at the brown water. “That comes all the way from Africa.” Kate wasn’t listening.

  As the west bank drew closer, they noticed there were far few buildings than on the other side. Rolling hills filled the foreground, shimmering in a heat haze. And beyond the hills—which they would soon have to climb—were mountains.

  * * *

  “How much farther?” Kate complained. “And how much steeper is it going to get?”

  Some of the older people looked too exhausted to continue. Servants moved up and down the column with jugs of water. Some of the guests had already started into the wine and beer. A troop of dancers and musicians led the procession, their lively antics and music standing in contrast to the solemnity of the occasion.

  Eventually the procession came to a halt. They had arrived at the necropolis. Generations of workers had labored for years cutting tombs into the cliffs for the burial of important people.

  “Now what?” asked Kate.

  “It’s time for the Opening of the Mouth ceremony.

  “Does that mean lunch?”

  “Afraid not,” said AP, whose stomach was also rumbling. “It’s going to be performed on the mummy.”

  “What happens?”

  “The sem-priest will touch the mummy’s face with a special forked rod. That allows the dead person to do all the things they did before, like eating, speaking and moving.”

  As Kate and AP made their way forward for a better view, people dropped back to let the Celestial Priestess pass. Everyone bowed, and some even reached out just to touch her.

  The priests had removed the mummy from its outer cases and propped it, upright, beside the tomb. Forked rod in one hand, incense burner in the other, the sem-priest slowly approached, as if afraid the mummy might come to life. He then began chanting and reciting prayers, after which he tapped the mummy’s face with the rod. He did this twice more and the ceremony was complete.

  “Once the mummy’s back in the sarcophagus it’ll be placed in the burial chamber, along with all the other stuff,” AP began, “then the priests will take the family members down there.”

  “Us too, remember,” added Kate.

  “I’m not likely to forget that! What a fantastic opportunity. If you hadn’t become so famous, there’s no way we’d see inside an Egyptian tomb.”

  “And if you hadn’t conjured up the magic,
I wouldn’t be famous. I’d have been exposed as a fraud.”

  Using ropes, a group of men lowered the sarcophagus into the burial chamber through a vertical shaft. Then servants began carrying all the other items into the tomb, using a spiral staircase cut into the side of the shaft. Meanwhile family members, accompanied by specially invited guests, viewed the above-ground part of the tomb.

  “Imagine doing this with hand tools,” said AP gazing at the huge cavern chiseled out of the rock. “The walls and ceiling are perfectly flat and smooth.”

  Kate was marveling at the mystical paintings. “Thoth,” she said, pointing to the ibis-headed god of wisdom. “And the goddess with the round headpiece and horns is Hathor.”

  “You won’t forget her!” said AP, smiling. Then, glancing around, he asked if she was feeling lonely.

  “What?”

  “I just thought you might be missing your bodyguard, that’s all.”

  “Oh, I see what you mean,” said Kate. “He was really upset when they told him the tomb visit was strictly by invitation. Anyway, nothing can happen to me in here.”

  Soon people began making their way toward the spiral staircase leading to the tomb. Kate and AP wanted to explore some more.

  “We’d better get back,” said AP some minutes later. “We mustn’t miss the tomb.”

  The staircase was poorly lit and the steps steep, so they had to watch their footing. The farther they descended the dimmer it got, and when they reached the bottom they were in darkness. A guide appeared with a burning torch and led the way to the burial chamber. As their eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, they realized they were alone. The other visitors had all left.

  The tomb was smaller than they expected and was so crammed that they had to pick their way slowly, to avoid tripping over things. A lone torch was mounted on the opposite wall. In its flickering light, they could see a mystical painting at the far end, above the sarcophagus.