by Mary Deal
“Why haven't I heard it again?” Surely his many responsibilities were distracting.
“Do you really want to?”
“I'd like to know too.”
“Not just like to know, Aaron. We need to experience what went on here.”
He shook his head and looked at her sideways. “If someone's pulling a joke and you stay by yourself all night—”
“Not a joke, Aaron. A joke wouldn't have given us this tomb.” Why did she have to remind him of all people?
“Oh, I get it. If you slept in here you might have better dreams and learn more? What else have you heard?”
“Nothing much different,” she said, wondering if she should disclose the rest. Then she said, “It's what I'm feeling at the same time.”
“You're sensing something in other ways?”
“Yes. I know this sounds crazy, but I believe I was called here.” Then she cautiously said, “Maybe you too.”
“I'm not sure what you mean,” Aaron said as he took hold of her hand and looked into her eyes. “You've always been an enigma, Chione. You've shown me a different reality, but I'd be foolish to expect you'd let me be a part of this.”
Chione could not acknowledge him and pulled away while struggling to maintain her composure despite Aaron's tender expressive look that went right into her. The warmth of his touch emanated through his gloved hands. Memories of being in his arms flashed through her mind. Fleeting moments that could have led to consummation. Yet, why had she begun longing for him again? “Do you think Dr. Withers will let me stay?”
“Ask him,” Aaron said as he shrugged.
“Hey you two, turn off the lamps before you come out,” Dr. Withers said from the doorway.
“Chione,” Aaron said, grabbing her hand again. She turned back reluctantly. “Even if you'd rather I didn't share this with you, why have I also heard the whimpering? And where did you get that new perfume you're wearing?”
14
Another Friday meant another Arabic Sabbath. Because of that, most locals were unavailable to work. Many left their cots and tents where they lay in the open and converged on the small tent camp that had sprung up down the road. Dr. Withers had let it be known that he expected more out of his team on those days when fewer workers were around to lend a hand.
“Found nothing?” Aaron asked. “What do you mean `found nothing'?” Any delay seemed like an eternity. They had hoped to accomplish something, even out of setbacks. To hear no progress had been made taking soundings was deflating.
“Exactly that,” the seismologist said. His clothes were dusty from being up on that hill in the breeze. “We've been testing all morning, even expanded the search grid. Radar only penetrates about twenty five feet.”
“I know that,” Dr. Withers said. His patience seemed thin.
They stood on the hillside in full sun, something to which all were becoming acclimated. They had learned never to forget their headgear and at times team members blended in with the Egyptian workers.
“We even used the special filters—”
“What about the seismograph?” Aaron asked.
Chione had warned about sensors being useless and Aaron well knew but had to try.
“Nothing. Seismic refraction picks up a good reading till just past the Second Chamber,” the seismologist said. “The hollow of the tomb slopes too steeply downward to get more readings.”
“How far up the hillside do you get anything?” Aaron asked. He removed the handkerchief from around his neck and passed it over his face. He always wore the top buttons of his shirtfront open with the handkerchief tied around his throat. His rugged image had great appeal.
“As I calculate, above the passageway, just about where it drops down that long flight of steps after the Second Chamber. Beyond that point, absolutely nothing.”
Dr. Withers stood perspiring and pondering the hillside. He held out his hand until Aaron realized Dr. Withers wanted to use his handkerchief. Finally, as he accepted it he asked, “Aaron, did you see anything else that might look like another hole big enough for a person to pass through?”
“Only the one Randy found.”
“Can any of the hillside be cleared off?”
“Maybe we should get Randy up there,” Clifford said, joining the conversation momentarily, on his way to the inventory tent. “He's good at making things slide!”
“Clifford, do you mind?” Dr. Withers asked while trying not to smile.
Clifford knew it was best to keep walking. Dr. Withers snickered and shook his head as they watched Clifford affectedly slink away.
“You mean clear away all that rubble?” the seismologist asked. “So our equipment can be in closer proximity to the tomb ceiling?”
“I guess that's what I mean. How about it?”
“Already thought of that and tested the soil. It's too loose. If disturbed, the whole hillside could slide down on you and bury the tomb again.”
“And anyone inside,” Aaron said.
“Probably your entire encampment,” the seismologist said, nodding toward the tents. He took off his cap, rubbed his arm across the top of his bald head, and left a dirt mark from his sleeve. Chione looked away.
“How likely is that to happen?” Dr. Withers asked.
“Not unless you go up there disturbing the natural way it's settled. When we drove our stakes to take the readings, sand and rubble began to skid.”
“Then we'll think of something else. For the next few days, we'll concentrate on emptying the chambers.”
They followed Dr. Withers inside the cook tent for shade. “I don't like the possibility of landslides,” he said. He poured coffee for the others then a cup for himself. “Great,” he said. “Just great.” He sighed as he sat down, evidently recognizing his own streak of impatience.
Chione retrieved a pitcher from under one of the pyramids and poured herself a cup of Karkade.
“We'll find the Burial Chamber,” Aaron said. “We'll go in after—”
“That's not what I'm concerned about,” Dr. Withers said. “Chione, I know I just told you that you could spend the evening in there—”
“Alone, I suppose,” Aaron said.
“I have to be alone.”
“I don't care if you're not afraid of being spooked,” Dr. Withers said. “That's not the point.” He tweaked his mustache, picked up his cup, stood and stepped out into the scorching sunlight again as she and Aaron followed.
A lot of excitement came from the processing area as yet more trays of mummies were being delivered. Mourners had begun crowding closer among the throng of onlookers. In the distance, their plaintiff wailing continued. With Aaron holding the fly open, she followed Dr. Withers into the inventory tent.
“Hey, Sterling,” Clifford called out from his makeshift desk near some crates. “Maybe we should hold back some of these little folks… in case we have a power outage.” Everyone laughed as someone threw a pencil that glanced off Clifford's shoulder when he ducked.
Dr. Withers could only shake his head.
Later inside the Pillared Hall, as Dr. Withers and Aaron discussed issues, Chione felt irresistibly drawn to sit again in the gilded chair. That was the last thing she remembered.
“Chione,” Aaron said softly. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
She looked into his eyes. “Kheperu-Ra,” came out of her mouth in a lusty new voice.
“What?” Dr. Withers asked, leaning close.
“Sh-h,” Aaron said. They listened, but she had nothing more to say and the silence inside the Hall was unremarkable. “Chione,” Aaron said again, nudging her shoulder.
The nudge was gentle and made her feel like she watched two scenes at the same time, each jostling, interfering with the other. With eyes wide open she waited, felt disconnected from the voices she heard, and powerless to respond.
“What's she doing?” Dr. Withers asked, whispering.
“She's in an altered state,” Aaron said quietly. “Earlier she said
she really gets messages in this room.”
“Oh, boy,” Dr. Withers said. “I've never seen anyone in a trance.”
Aaron put a finger to his lips. “She'll be okay,” he said softly. For once, she was thankful for his presence. He would know how to handle Dr. Withers.
“What do we do?” Dr. Withers asked quietly. “This is spooky.”
Something that held her finally let go. Chione suddenly bolted out of the chair. “I-I'm sorry, Dr. Withers,” she said. “I didn't know I sat—”
“Geez,” he said, stepping aside as if to avoid being touched by something he did not understand. “What is going on with you?”
“Guess I fell asleep.”
“With your eyes wide open?”
“Must be the heat,” she said without looking at him. Particularly, she did not want to look Aaron squarely in the eyes either.
Dr. Withers paced then turned abruptly to face her. “I don't want you staying in here by yourself this evening.”
“What's the harm? I'll be okay.”
“I don't like this,” he said. “You in some sort of trance and not knowing whose around.” Something in his voice seemed almost relieved. He glanced at Aaron who quickly looked elsewhere.
“Who'd be around?” she asked.
“Until we know the origin of those sounds you hear, who's to say?”
Certainly Dr. Withers had already accepted her explanation for the sounds. Why, then, would he use the noises as an excuse for her not to be alone? “I'm not afraid,” she said.
“We've just learned the whole side of the hillock could swallow us if we're not careful,” Dr. Withers said. “For your safety, I can't allow it. Not by yourself.”
“Uh… Marlowe. Can Marlowe stay with me? She's not afraid. We could leave the lights on.”
“No lights, no Marlowe,” Dr. Withers said. “You're giving my wife too much credit.”
“She understands.”
“Marlowe's interested in your dreams. To be a part of what Aaron and I just saw you doing? The mummy we'd find later would be my wife.”
“Honestly, Dr. Withers. Marlowe knows.”
“Marlowe certainly won't know what to do if anything unexpected happens on the hill,” he said, thumbing upwards. “Aaron will stay with you if you insist on quiet time in here.” Again, his voice contained that hint of victory.
Aaron seemed flustered. “Chione and I already talked this over. It's better if I don't stay.”
“See here, you two,” Dr. Withers said. “We've got something real special here with this discovery. Admittedly because of your dreams, Chione, which may still provide us with the location of the most important chamber in this hole in the ground. But if you two can't put aside your personal lives for the sake of our expedition, we'll rely solely on traditional methods to find the rest.”
“But, Dr. With—”
“Look, I don't mean to lecture the two most mature members of the team, but that's the way it's going to be.” He smiled suddenly as if proud of himself.
“I don't see why Aaron has to be the one.”
“Because no one else understands you and I don't want you in here by yourself,” Dr. Withers said. “That's all.”
“What about Clifford?”
“Do you honestly think humor could add to your trance state?” Aaron asked.
“Aaron stays or no one stays,” Dr. Withers said. “That's final. You bring in some food and water, just in case.” He turned to leave.
Chione sighed. “If Aaron's the only choice.”
Neither she nor Aaron spoke as Dr. Withers left looking triumphant.
Finally, Aaron said, “Us being alone together doesn't mean I'm gonna' get personal, Chione.”
“You can't tell me your only interest is… is… after the history we have together?”
“I want our job here to be successful,” he said. “If it means supporting you in this, I can put my emotions aside.”
“Good. You know the reason I ended our relationship.”
“But it wasn't strong enough to end your feelings, or mine.”
She sighed. “I thought that was all behind us.” She did not want this to become an issue again. If she got upset emotionally, it would preclude entering any altered state. “I just want to get on with my life.”
All through dinner and afterward, Clifford teased about her and Aaron looking for the mummy's bedroom and Bebe flashed victorious looks toward Kendra. Dr. Withers listened but had not joined the conversations, yet neither had he squelched them, as he would usually do to keep a tight rein. He just sat studying some notes and looking triumphant. When she and Aaron finally departed for the depths, whatever comments flew among the others stayed topside sizzling in the heat.
“I'll be sitting between the first and second pillars,” Chione said, ignoring his patience.
“Can I at least know what you've planned?”
“Does it matter?”
“Chione, I'm not here for personal gain. In fact, you recently told me that I belonged here too.”
Chione remained silent and arranged her sitting mat on the hard floor. Then she pointed in the direction of the sofa and chair against the wall. “That's north, isn't it?”
“Yeah, that's north,” he said. Then he smiled. In the days when they had been close she had told him to sleep with his head to the north and that he would be lined up with the magnetic forces of the planet. Having done so, he reported the quality of his dreams began to improve. Aaron placed his mat away from her, toward the center of the Hall.
Once everything was in place and the lighting much dimmed, she said, “Well, come here if you want to be a part of this.”
“When did you start issuing orders?”
“Since you're here, you may as well contribute something,” she said. Almost instantly, she realized she was expressing disappointment at having to share her quiet time.
“Just do whatever it is you do, Chione,” he said. He finally sat and slipped out of his boots.
She sat cross-legged, sighing, and having difficulty relaxing. She knew Aaron well and surmised the thoughts going through his mind at that moment. Knowing disturbed her concentration. They were once devoted to each other. He previously admitted never experiencing a depth of emotion with anyone else like he felt with her. He was not about to become involved in another relationship if complete devotion was not matched. His feelings for her never weakened. What he would do as they sat quietly was pray the winds of change would gale. Chione recognized a great peace knowing he held no real animosity toward her. “Aaron,” she said quietly. “I'm sorry I was irritable with you.”
“Sh-h-h,” he said in his forgiving way.
After a few moments, she felt even more frustrated, but she would not quit. Any other time, when she concentrated deeply, she would slip into trance without realizing it until returning to consciousness. Aaron being there inhibited her. Not like in the past when she relied on him for an added measure of peace and stability. Now the fact he was in the same room during her quiet time irritated her. If she could not get through this evening, he would interpret it as them belonging together and needing to make peace. Never before had she felt such mixed feelings about him.
Finally, she slumped and sometime later revived, not knowing how long she remained in the trance. It never really mattered. She tried to speak and tilted her head back and saw someone standing over her, but her eyes were closed! Then she exploded back to the present, though her body had not moved at all. She found herself sitting in Tut's chair! In the royal chair! Nearly unnerved, she quietly went to sit on her mat again and slipped back into a trance, only to rouse a bit later.
“I haven't experienced a meditation this deep in a long time,” Aaron said in a whisper. In the dim light of the chamber, Chione opened her eyes and saw him rub the stiffness out of the back of his neck. “I saw scenes the likes I've never had.”
By the time he roused fully, Chione had already rolled up her mat. “So what did you see?” she
asked.
“Could have sworn I wasn't in a trance,” he said. “I saw you sitting in that chair by the sofa.” He pointed toward the furniture along the north wall. “The room was different. Must be the power of suggestion.”
“You mean because of the nature of our work? You saw some images?”
“About Tutankhamon, I believe,” he said. She gasped the moment he mentioned the name. “You got something about him, too, didn't you?”
She pretended to be busy with her things, but he was already at her side and grabbed her arm. “Let go of me! If we must be thrown together, the least you can do is be professional.”
He laughed. “Professional? After the history we have together? Even now, as we share the same visions?”
“How do you know what I saw?”
“How quickly you deny the connection between us!”
“Okay, I saw him too. So what?”
“He came toward you from the couch, didn't he?”
Chione was shocked. Finally she said, “He came from the couch, then sat right there.” She pointed to the area of the floor that would have been at the head of her mat.
“I sat there,” Aaron said.
“You…?”
“You were having trouble getting into trance. I sat there to balance your energies.”
“You weren't… Tut was….”
“How quickly you deny,” Aaron said. He walked away a couple of paces, and then came back. “Tutankhamon came to you in your vision and sat in the very place I sat?”
She could no longer hide the truth, at least not from Aaron, and gave in to the moment. “Another time, I sat in a chair and Tutankhamon and I spoke.”
“You're sure it was him?”
“Of course I'm sure. He wore a nemes on his head with a wadjet, a white kilt and carried a crook and flail.” How could Aaron question her? It only added to the discomfort of the heat in the Hall.
As if he sensed her uneasiness, his voice softened. “How do you know he was that Pharaoh?”
“Don't doubt me. I just know it.”
“How much conversation did you share?” Now he looked ready to grab her arms and shake her.
She stepped back. “It was brief, when I first began to quiet down. While he and I spoke, I sat with him. When I came out of the trance, I was sitting in that chair,” she said, pointing.