by Mary Deal
“Yes, sir. The Holy Land was totally a spiritual experience. So I'm eager to see Egypt as well.”
“Next, Randy Osborne?”
Randy puffed up his chest and pulled back his chin. “I'm also rarin' to learn how much of Chione's so-called predictions come true.”
“Randy,” Dr. Withers said. “What I'm attempting to learn is who brought a significant other and who didn't. That's all.”
Randy looked sheepish again. “Just me,” he said. “I work better alone.”
Dr. Withers raised an eyebrow then continued. “Kendra Laker?”
“Royce wouldn't miss this either. It's like coming home again.”
“How many times does this make you?”
“We've already logged a dozen trips along the Nile. This is lucky thirteen.”
“Well now,” Dr. Withers said. “With Chione, that makes eleven of us, counting Marlowe and me—“
“Why was Chione allowed to come?” Randy asked, blurting it out too forcefully.
Chione's ire had been triggered. Before she could respond for herself, Dr. Withers dropped a fist onto the tabletop. She had never known anyone as belligerent as Randy. No one said a word as Dr. Withers struggled to maintain his composure. Randy had overstepped his bounds and the only person to take the situation in hand would be Dr. Withers, who stood and leaned on his knuckles as he glared at Randy. “To those who know her,” he said, “Chione… is… Egypt. Period.”
Kendra turned and smiled at Aaron as she always did, as if to confirm they had gotten the best of Randy again. She always looked to Aaron for assurance. Stranger still was how people said he and Kendra resembled one another. No one would guess Kendra was nearly forty. Aaron once asked if that made him look older than his thirty-three years. He and Kendra both had pale green eyes and wavy brownish-blonde hair, but he saw no resemblance and wished Kendra would consider changing her hair color. Luckily, his pastimes enabled him to spend time outdoors where the sun streaked red through his.
Dr. Withers sat down again. “I've heard enough,” he said in a tone that left Randy to stew in his despicable attitude. He looked up from his notes and pursed his lips as he studied the group. Finally, he said, “As much as I hesitate to delay, I want all of us to take a few days vacation—”
“First?” Randy said, blurting again. “Let's just get into the dig.”
“First,” Dr. Withers said as he glared at Randy over the top of his glasses. “You'll allow me to finish.” He took a moment then smiled again at the others. “I propose we spend a few days touring Cairo or other points of interest. You've all been working just as hard on this project back in California as anyone at the site. Those of you who have not been to Egypt, Bebe and Kenneth, and you, Aaron—”
“And me,” Randy said, waving a hand.
“And you, Randy,” Dr. Withers said, rolling his eyes, “will have a chance to experience some of the Nile Valley with the rest of us. During this time, you can put jet lag behind you and become acclimated to the drastic change in climate. October in the desert may be a little warm but cold at night.”
“Are you proposing we take some excursions along the Nile together?” Kendra asked. Her excitement was infectious.
“That's if we can stand one another,” Dr. Withers said, almost laughing. “This morning, though, we're scheduled to go to the Madu Museum to meet the curators and see where our tomb's relics will be housed. After that, you're on your own.” Despite his business as usual attitude, it was known that he, too, enjoyed the camaraderie of a finely tuned group. He had a reputation for being fair and fun around the campfire when the day was over. He shot a finger into the air, and raising his voice said, “Lastly, there's a crucial little matter on which we must come together.”
3
Conversation ended abruptly. Dr. Withers looked at her again. He had the kindest eyes. She could read him well. He was about to discuss her and his eyes begged for patience. “At issue here is whether or not some of you can work with Chione Ini-Herit without letting personal resentments get in the way.” He stared straight at Randy.
She knew that Dr. Withers had grown fond of her and her abilities, especially since her premonitions had provided the chance to validate his dream of a private institute that held its own. He had toyed with the idea of retiring but changed his mind at the first sign of opportunity. Then too, his wife, Marlowe, who held a lifelong interest in the paranormal, had been fascinated and befriended her a couple of years earlier.
Dr. Withers waited. Finally he said, “I don't have time to hear any of you privately. If you don't care to comment out in the open right now, after today you can put a lid on personal grievances.”
There was a moment of silence but then Bebe raised her hand. “I don't have a grievance,” she said. “I used to see Chione as excess, even felt intimidated by her knowledge. But the more I learned about her, the more I realized she's a self-taught historian. Egypt is new to me and she's fluent in hieroglyphs. I could learn from her.” Her smile seemed sincere and, for the first time, Chione felt rapport with Bebe.
Dr. Withers seemed pleased to hear something positive. “Your exceptional reputation as an historian precedes you, Bebe. I'm glad you feel that way.”
“So? We already have one historian,” Randy said. “Chione's assignments can be covered by any of us.”
Kendra shook her head as if she could not believe what she had just heard. “What exactly do you see as being her assignments?”
“So far as this trip is concerned, she's assigned to hieroglyph interpretation and to transcribe Bebe's manuscripts which will document our work. And logging, secretarial stuff with you, Kendra, as conservator of artifacts and inventories.”
“A valuable person indeed,” Clifford said.
“Minor stuff,” Randy said.
“Is that your grievance, Randy?” Dr. Withers asked.
He reached over and took hold of her hand. The moment their hands met, a shot of energy assaulted her nervous system. “Oh!” Chione said as she pulled her hand away. She had just received a psychometric impression from the touch. That was one way her extrasensory perceptions occurred, unexpected, spontaneous, in the middle of a thought or conversation. Vivid or vague, suddenly there, quickly gone.
“What happened?” Kendra asked.
The others looked inquisitive. Except Aaron. He understood all her token expressions. They had been close once. He refused to accept the reason she needed to be independent. He still studied her as if he might further learn to emulate her abilities. With what she knew of him, his paranormal awakening was about to explode without direction from her. Aaron knew her well, knew when she perceived things in her extraordinary ways. Others in the room had no inkling about what made her tick. Now Aaron would not take his eyes off her for fear of missing something. The others noticed them staring at one another.
“Chione, you received something, didn't you?” Kendra asked again.
“Yes,” she said, feeling embarrassed at having to explain to the entire group. “I've seen myself at the excavation sight.”
Randy let out a coarse burst of laughter that the others ignored.
“I don't know how you intuit all that information,” Clifford said.
All but Randy seemed sincerely interested. “Try to grasp this concept,” she said, ignoring him. “Everything that's ever happened, that's happening now or yet to occur, happens all at once.”
“I'll never get it,” Bebe said.
“On different planes of existence,” Chione said. “Practice mentally changing planes. It's like this. Imagine playing all the notes of the scale at the same time, then focusing on hearing the sound of only one note while hearing all the others simultaneously.”
Everyone quieted, as if practicing the technique. At least they tried.
Aaron doodled, drawing grids on a note pad. He must have begun the habit to keep his hands busy when he felt nervous. He, too, was eager to get to the site.
“I get it,” Clifford sai
d. “Then we try to hear other notes separately.”
“Each note is like a different plane of existence,” Chione said. “Happening along with all the others.”
“Like the quality of your jokes,” Bebe said, teasing Clifford.
Offering extraneous information was a bold stance on her part. She shared her inner self with trusted few. But something new had been happening since she began dreaming of the tomb. The team being part of those dreams, she felt the need to make them aware of certain facts and knew, in time, she would have to divulge more. She wondered how much Aaron might perceive. When they had been close, at times they shared virtually the same dreams. Now she was growing, rapidly developing her skills. She introduced him to strange and enticing realms, then as he put it, deprived him. She could tell he both loved and abhorred her. Yet, if they dreamed the same dreams in the past, could he know that she was aware of the erotic dreams he recently began to experience? Dreams of her? And who was the other woman who recently began appearing in those dreams?
Silence filled the room as the others noticed Aaron and her avoiding one another. Finally, Bebe said, “Tell us more about the tomb.”
Chione looked to Dr. Withers who made a gesture of approval and said, “Far be it from me to discredit anything you've seen in that mind of yours.”
“Is it a rich find?” Kendra asked. “Beyond our wildest dreams?” Kendra would like nothing less than to have the discovery turn up lavish rewards and for her to be known as having been a major part of it all.
“Go ahead, Chione,” Dr. Withers said. “I'm sure none of us so much as dabbled in altered states before meeting you, but your gifts have done right by us. We're believers now, at least in you, and willing to listen. Tell them what you told me on the phone.”
“Something new?” Kendra asked, leaning forward.
Chione hesitated. Why was she being given this information if not to share with them in the discovery? She had difficulty believing the strange new scenes. What if she told them something that did not come true? She had no recourse but to continue, though carefully. She took a deep breath then quietly said, “This find affects each of us.” Excitement broke out again with everyone begging to hear more. For a group of professionals who had been trained to control their emotions regarding their work, they were certainly an expressive bunch. “I've received only fragments,” she said, elevating her voice above the others.
“We'll take 'em,” Clifford said eagerly.
She began again. “There is… much gold.”
“Yeah,” Randy yelled.
“Incredible artifacts and jewels.”
By this time, Randy was standing and leaning over the tabletop excitedly banging a fist. Dr. Withers suddenly redirecting his attention forced Randy back into his chair in a spell of regret.
Chione moved her eyes upward from side to side, something that came natural to do, as if reading messages in the highest corners of her mind. When she did this, information flowed in. “A strange pyramid,” she said. “Some danger averted, some not.” Then she looked at the group again and forced a weak smile and flinched.
“What is it?” Kendra asked.
“An eerie feeling, like we're being watched.”
“Watched? Here?” Bebe asked. “By whom?”
“Not here,” Chione said. “In my mind, I'm already at the site. There's a sense of foreboding, like we're being watched.”
Randy sighed heavily. “Oh, sure. A curse, like at King Tut's tomb.”
“Will you shut up,” Clifford said sharply across the table. Then he turned to the others. “Excu-use me,” he said, affectedly teasing and knowing he had done something the others lacked courage to do.
Dr. Withers pinched back a smile.
Sensing herself in Egypt, Chione gasped. She had just received more extrasensory input. As was her habit, she looked in the direction from which the thought or vision appeared in her mind.
“Is there more?” Bebe asked from the edge of her chair. “How will history be changed?”
Chione blinked slowly then gazed downward. She did not want anyone to try to guess anything from her expression. “Better to let it play out,” she said, averting full disclosure of more incredible clues that were, as yet, only fragments. She could not disclose all the bits and pieces of events she might receive. Doing so would force her to admit that even she did not understand how they fit together. The others would lose faith in her. “Each one of us plays a part,” she said, nonchalantly smiling at Aaron as Randy squirmed again from want of attention. To Dr. Withers, she added, “We won't need sensors, however, to locate the new pyramid.”
“Radar, sensors?” Randy asked, cutting in. “They're standard modus operandi for finding formations beneath the sand. We, of course, will need sensors.”
“Not even a simple magnetometer will find this pyramid,” Chione said.
“A pyramid,” Randy said. “How does she know?”
Everyone quieted, this time giving her the opportunity to speak. “My dreams have given us this find, Randy,” she said quietly. “This information comes from the same source.”
“You don't have the kind of knowledge needed to aid in the dig,” Randy said. “Sensors certainly are not your area of expertise.” He turned to the others. “It's ludicrous. How does Chione know we will or will not need a magnetometer or seismic devices?”
“First of all,” Chione said, answering despite Randy not addressing her directly. “A magnetometer has proved most effective in the dry limestone cliffs of the Valley of the Kings, primarily used for locating tomb entrances near the surface.”
“We aren't digging in Valley of the Kings,” Randy said, sounding like a know-it-all.
Aaron smiled, knew what she was about to say.
“Exactly. And we've already found our entrance,” she said. “So we won't need to be measuring magnetism for gaps in rock formations.”
“If there's another pyramid buried some place,” Randy said. “You can bet we'll need sensors.”
“Radar and seismic devices,” Chione said, continuing undaunted, “are used for locating greater rock formations below the surface.”
“That's my point.”
“But you didn't get mine,” she said, watching the others reacting to Randy's insistence. “I said we'd find another pyramid. You assumed I meant one like the Great Pyramid at Giza and that it would be buried.”
“How do you know what I was thinking?”
“Need you ask?” Aaron almost laughed at Randy's refusal to recognize Chione's abilities. Her talents never surprised or intimidated him, but she wished he would soon find someone else to dote upon.
“The pyramid will not be found near the surface,” Chione said, innocently digging into Randy's flagging self-confidence. “This tomb, representing one unique breath of history, contains all kinds of inconsistencies.”
“We're looking for something different now?” Randy asked, whining. “Haven't you heard? We're already inside the burial complex.”
“Unless we remain open to unusual possibilities,” Chione said to the others, “we'll miss the most important hidden chambers.”
Everyone snapped to attention after becoming distracted by Randy's fear of being supplanted. Except Randy who sighed, disgusted, as he tipped back in his chair. “Sure, hidden,” he said, and then snickered.
“You mean,” Dr. Withers said, pausing to raise fingers signaling quotes, “you've seen something else?”
“Unless we heed the messages of this tomb, we could be forced to abandon the dig.”
“No!” Aaron said. “This is too important.”
“Agreed,” Chione said. “But much beyond our present stage of entry, sensors won't help.”
“If you think we're going to have difficulty finding something unusual buried in the desert,” Randy said. “Leave that to the seismographers, the engineers, okay Chione? That's their job.”
No one paid further attention to Randy. Voices hummed again. Dr. Withers reached into his
briefcase. “That's it for our meeting. Here are some tour brochures.” He flung packets across the tabletop and Bebe tore into hers. Dr. Withers began to rise, then paused. “Uh…there is one last thing I need to make clear here and now.” Everyone came to attention and his jovial expression turned dead serious. “Ladies—and that includes the ones not present,” he said. “Make no unnecessary eye contact with the locals. Do not become friendly with the local men.”
“But eye contact is a sign of integrity,” Bebe said.
“Not in this country,” Clifford said.
“Especially from women,” Dr. Withers said, enunciating every word. “Women stay subdued in this culture. You do the same. If you don't heed this warning, it could cost you your life.” He pointed into the air. “No woman from our group is to walk the streets of Cairo alone—night or day—or leave our camp at the dig site without at least one male escort. You hear?” He sighed, sounded tired, then said; “I'd appreciate if you who know Egypt would make yourselves available for those who don't.”
“Why can't we just have a private reading from Chione?” Randy asked.
Dr. Withers gathered his papers and closed his briefcase, snapping the clasps loudly. Then he looked directly at Randy over the top of his glasses. “I want to see you privately,” he said, thumbing backwards.
Everyone gathered their materials and began to leave. Aaron delayed, pouring over his notes. Chione's heart quickened. Recently, with the prospect of working in Egypt, people began teasing saying he resembled Pharaoh Tutankhamon, except that Aaron's teeth were straight and pearly white. Since beginning to dream of Egypt, every time their eyes met or when they touched, she perceived recurring dreams that he must have been having. The fantasy changed little, always him making love to a woman on a woven cot among soft tapestry pillows and red ornate paneling; or under the full moon at a cool oasis; or floating on a barge on the Nile. Why had she felt such rapport with the woman in those dreams? Recently she began seeing the woman as herself.
Sensuality suggested by the visions made her woozy. The dreams, him loving her and she burning with equal fire, were always the same, but fantasy it was. Dreams acting as a pressure release valve. Who was the new woman who recently began appearing, usurping the place she thought of as her own? How was it so easy for her to also feel like she was the new woman as well?