by Mary Deal
“Duty calls,” Parker said. “Someone's got to run the Institute. With that new tomb, I don't think any of you will see California any time soon.”
Early the afternoon of Christmas Eve, the photos came back strikingly clear.
“This is the best Christmas gift we could hope for,” Dr. Withers said, as they stood huddled over the images spread on the table. He paused momentarily. “We could postpone now and celebrate. Get past Christmas before we open her up.”
“You wouldn't dare,” Clifford said.
44
Quaashie and Naeem stood guard and waited inside the Burial Chamber in case a stealthy worker tried to squeeze through.
Inside the Pillared Hall, Dr. Withers counted. “We've got too many people here. Who's going to volunteer for second round viewing?” Nearly everyone objected. “Sorry folks. I count twenty three heads.”
“Let's just pick `em,” Aaron said eagerly.
“Good idea. First of all, I know my wife will mind me.” He grinned playfully. Marlowe lightly punched his shoulder and stepped aside. “I hate to slight anyone,” Dr. Withers said. “But we all know the rules. Paki Rashad has right of first inspection. In fact, so do Drs. Asim and Kent. That's four of us, plus the two photographers and their equipment.”
“I'll wait and go with Kenneth,” Bebe said.
Kendra stepped back beside Bebe. The two Norwegians stepped back. So did Chione's parents. Then Burton and Parker decided to wait and share the viewing with their wives.
“But… but,” Carmelita said in her practiced whined. She detested having to spend time with the other wives in the kitchen and made an issue of finally getting to see something new. “We're officials of the Institute. We don't get to see first?”
“Sh-h!” Parker said, jabbing her in the arm.
“Okay, we'll view later,” Carmelita said. “We're lucky to be here. Who'd guess any of us would have the opportunity—”
“Sh-h!” Parker said again.
“One thing I do want,” Dr. Withers said, “is for Chione to be present for the unveiling.”
“I can wait,” she said quickly. She never approved of Dr. Withers showing favoritism. Neither would she protest too loudly and miss the chance to go in first.
“No, I insist,” he said. He spoke to the group. “Without Chione's prompting, I may not have followed through on this venture.”
“I agree,” Aaron said. “Chione should go first.”
“Then you three are left,” Dr. Withers said, looking from Aaron to Clifford to Randy.
Randy stepped back, his actions no longer a surprise to anyone.
Clifford looked from her then back to Aaron. He almost smiled. “Aaron should go,” he said. “After all, he is your understudy and I'd rather he be the one to help open the coffin.” First, the irony of his words made him look sad, and then he smiled like he had just pulled something off. “I'll wait. After all, the lady isn't going anywhere.”
The first group entered.
“Listen up,” Dr. Withers said, poking the air. “What's inside may be yet another coffin. If not, we're down to the nitty-gritty. Who's going to volunteer to carefully lift the lid of this priceless sycamore fig while the rest of us get first peek?”
No one volunteered. Then Quaashie spoke. “May we, O Teacher? Naeem together with me?”
Dr. Withers waited for objections. No one wanted to tend to the lid once it was removed. They wanted to view inside the coffin without distraction.
“Okay,” Dr. Withers said. “When in Egypt, the Egyptians have the honor.”
Dr. Withers first placed a hand on each side of the lid near the hips attempting to rock the lid slightly to test the give. Quaashie went to the head and Naeem the feet. They bent into the sarcophagus ends and with gloved hands found places to safely get a grip. Both Aaron and Dr. Withers waited, ready with small shims, in case the lid might be tight and have to be gently pried.
The videographers moved about with cameras perched on their shoulders, catching each minute step of the process.
Quaashie and Naeem exchanged quick instructions in Egyptian. After a little coaxing, a little pulling, and acting as if the task might prove impossible, Naeem looked up and said, “Okay, tired now. Need a break.”
Response was frantic. Quaashie could not contain himself, backed away and doubled over in a fit of laughter.
“That's something I'd expect out of Clifford,” Dr. Withers said, laughing with the others.
Adding to the moment of drama, Quaashie and Naeem lifted slowly. As the lid rose, a blue white light began to gain in intensity from inside the coffin. Glowing silver-white streaks radiated directly at her and Aaron from the interior, permeating them both. Chione welcomed it in through every pore. Aaron put up opened hands as if to shield his eyes from the brightness. More energy shimmered in the air around them.
The others continued to chatter away, sounding oblivious to detecting the light. She and Aaron would be the only ones to perceive such a transmission. Yet, the real purpose the chosen group came to Egypt in the first place was still unknown.
A new sweet heady perfume, unlike any other scent, drifted to Chione's nostrils, a familiar, provocative scent. Again, no one noticed. Aaron inconspicuously breathed in a slow, deep breath and moaned as if reliving memories. If only she could capture the fragrance and reproduce it for posterity. Or to later use to entice Aaron!
Mixed exclamations from the others filtered into the reverie as Dr. Withers said, in an elevated voice, “Well, so much for finding a mummy.”
The light was blinding. She and Aaron stood staring at one another as the rays permeated them.
Suddenly, Chione felt faint and reached for Aaron's arm. He put his arm around her shoulder. “Don't hyperventilate and faint at the crucial moment,” he said, whispering.
She poked him in the ribs as the energy began to dissipate and let go of its hold.
“Chione! Aaron!” Dr. Withers said sounding thoroughly irritated. “You with us?”
No longer smiling, Quaashie and Naeem dutifully lifted the coffin lid over the heads of the others. They carried it into the Offering Chamber to lay it gently on padding on the floor by the back wall.
Chione and Aaron leaned in for a closer look and froze. Ginny maneuvered around with her camera.
“Is this a bloomin' joke?” Dr. Kent asked, evidently not impressed. He held his empty smoking pipe behind himself and bent in closer. “I'd say she's bloody real!”
Tauret lay poised in regal posture. Her skin glowed like fine polished stone.
“Could the figure be the epitome of a master artisan's work?” Dr. Asim asked. “Perhaps a lifelike replica of Tauret.”
“Is it bloody possible this is polished stone and yet another carved coffin?” Dr. Kent straightened and chomped down hard on his pipe stem. At times it was difficult to determine when he was being jovial and when he was disbelieving.
Rashad bent deep for a closer look at the face. His head twisted and turned as he examined. Finally he straightened. “She's not been mummified!” he said, emotional and completely out of context with his unassuming demeanor.
“Mummified?” Dr. Withers asked. “She's preserved. Under that pyramid.” He pointed upwards. “That's what kept her intact.”
Rashad stared unblinking as he clung to the edge of the black sarcophagus.
“Does anyone have an explanation for the condition of this… this… woman?” Dr. Kent asked, close to anger.
“Truly, it's someone's joke,” Dr. Asim said.
Dr. Kent sucked frantically on his pipe. “You had a death here in camp, did you not? Is this that woman?”
“Just a minute,” Dr. Withers said. “Who do you think we are?”
“Where are the remains of the woman who died?” Dr. Kent asked. “The body here is fresh, just been laid to rest. How do you explain that?” Now they were seeing the critical professional side of Dr. Kent's British personality.
Calmer than the others, Aaron only smiled.
“The pyramid, Doctors. We've had first-hand experience that pyramids preserve anything under them.”
Dr. Asim nodded. “It's been speculated that's one reason our pyramids were built.”
“The theory seems to hold true,” Dr. Withers said. “Laying sealed and undisturbed thousands of years under that diorite point and under the pyramid ceiling?” He gestured upward again. “She's been preserved. Besides, Clifford's wife was in her mid-sixties.”
“Where is her body?” Dr. Kent asked again.
“Buried with love in Garden City,” Chione said. “Nearly two months ago.”
Chione waited for Aaron to comment. His arm was too tight around her shoulders. She pulled away.
Rashad kept shaking his head. Surely, in all his years of inspections he had never seen anything like this.
Chione looked over the body again. There it was! The huge scarab amulet lay over Tauret's heart just below her folded arms. Exquisitely carved lapis lazuli trimmed with pure gleaming gold. The combination of gold and lapis, a symbol of eternal life and resurrection, ensured the protection of the sun. Beside the scarab lay a swatch of wavy hair bound by a finely braided gold rope. Chione's heart danced. Yet, with so many people around, how would she be able to retrieve what Tauret instructed her to remove from underneath the beetle?
Tauret wore thick black kohl. On closer examination, her translucent skin showed signs of decay. Almost imperceptible light graying blotches occupied one cheek, the backs of her long graceful fingers, and her shins.
Chione felt suddenly overwhelmed with a fear of having arrived too late. But for what?
“How are you holding up?” Aaron asked quietly.
His words came to her as if through a tunnel. She had to concentrate for a moment before realizing it was Aaron who spoke and that the words had not come to her through paranormal means. “It's warn in here,” she said.
“Want a breather?” he asked. “Go topside?”
“Not on your life.”
Chione looked at Tauret then back to Aaron. “Is that the face you've seen in dreams?” she asked, whispering as the others spoke among themselves.
“The very same,” Aaron said. His expression was full of love.
Several flower garlands had been placed between the coffin wall and the top of Tauret's head. The blossoms had dried, perfectly preserved, and still contained splashes of color. Chione gripped the side of the sarcophagus as another vision overtook her.
A motherly woman in a darkened room, holding flowers and a blue faience perfume decanter; splashing the body in a last ritual, weeping for Tauret.
The greatly distraught woman, seen in a previous vision arranging the body's clothing, had performed a last ritual. “Meskhenet,” she whispered. She felt a gnawing sadness at seeing the flowers, which represented a deep connection to lost ancient times through gifts of caring.
Jeweled ornaments decorated Tauret's cropped Egyptian hairstyle. More jewels lay on each side of her head.
“Look at those earrings,” Ginny said from behind the lens as she zoomed in. “I can't associate her style with Ancient Egypt.”
The head and partial body of a golden cobra protruded aggressively and zigzagged outward from one earlobe. The snake's tail curved from the other earlobe, suggesting it had wrapped its body around the back of Tauret's head.
“Our lady was definitely a nonconformist,” Dr. Withers said.
Her jeweled collar and many necklaces told of riches bestowed on a much-favored person. Among other gems, red jasper and green feldspar cloisonné reflected light magnificently. Her arms were covered with bangles and beads from wrists to armpits. She wore multiple jeweled rings.
“She wears a lot of silver,” Aaron said.
“Then she was special to someone,” Dr. Asim said. “Silver was the rarest of metals in those days.”
“There's enough finery here to make any woman livid with envy,” Dr. Withers said. “Look at that scarab.”
Chione's heart fluttered again at the thought that someone might lift the chunk of lapis before she could. Then she remembered that no one would touch so much as a hair on this woman's head until such time as preparation for removal was completed.
Tauret's white pleated skirt and cloak had turned grayish. Under her folded arms, a jeweled collar and necklace covered her bare chest. The skirt was fastened to the cloak below her breasts, which lay bare, the nipples still clinging to their color.
“Meskhenet and Umi saw to it that their daughter's burial wishes were carried out,” Aaron whispered into her ear.
“You saw that vision too?” Chione said quietly though astonished.
“In the Offering Chamber. I put my hand on your shoulder. I saw a vision that you must have had at that moment.”
The sandals on Tauret's feet were also jeweled. Who would expect anything less? The leather had not disintegrated. The footwear looked as if one could put them on and walk away. Around the body lay handfuls of polished cowry shells. On both sides of her waist lay tiny toys. Among all the souvenirs meant to follow her into the afterlife, the wide neck of a bottle protruded upright from the curve at the side of her waist.
“Look,” Chione said as she pointed. “Look!” She knew exactly why a bottle was included. She bent down and sniffed hoping to smell a fragrance more than three thousand years old. The scent was the same that billowed out of the coffin when it was first opened, more delicate than the heady perfume many had smelled throughout the tomb. “It's the perfume bottle Meskhenet used to perform the last ritual.”
“How do you know that?” Dr. Kent asked. He had stepped back while the others marveled. He paced, sucked his cold pipe and looked to be suffering from anxiety.
Aaron bent down too and used his flashlight. Soon, he straightened but motioned for Chione to take another look, which she could not refuse. She got as close as possible to the bottle opening and breathed in.
“Use your light,” Aaron said.
She clicked on her flashlight and peered through the wide-mouth opening. To her amazement, at the bottom lay tiny remnants of, perhaps, herbs or flowers used to make the perfume. The mark of a thick liquid having evaporated stained the bottom.
“So how would you bloomin' know what the bottle was used for?” Dr. Kent asked.
“You're just going to have to trust her,” Dr. Withers said.
“Sir,” Chione said to Dr. Withers. “I want this bottle preserved in every sense of the word. I want it capped somehow so the particles inside are not disturbed.”
“Fine, Chione,” he said. “That part's up to you.”
She was already immersed in yet another feeling, a great desire to merge with Tauret. She thought Tauret would stand at any moment and they would become one. She felt herself shaking uncontrollably and felt…
…herself lying inside the coffin under the protection of the Zodiac, waiting for that one indefinite interval in time.
Chione sighed heavily.
Trained to control their emotions and to catch fleeting moments, the photographers said nothing and kept shooting. Perhaps their cameras absorbing the scene acted as a buffer preventing anyone from expressing overwhelming feelings.
“I've seen enough for the moment,” Dr. Kent said with tones of disbelief. He left the chamber followed by Dr. Asim and Rashad with his photographer.
“I'd better prepare the next group,” Aaron said.
Chione stayed in the room unable to make her legs take her out. Ginny eyed her curiously but, thankfully, did not aim her camera.
The spouses came with the rest of the team. No one said much, as if upon entering the Burial Chamber they found themselves in such awe, no words would complement the moment.
Except for Clifford who said, “Someone wake Tauret so we can get on with our work.”
Kendra could not produce a smile to share with anyone.
Randy bent close, then straightened, his eyes wide. He walked to the opposite side of the sarcophagus and again examined the body. “Hey, the Priestess
was pregnant. Look at the shape of her stomach.”
The thin cloak garment had settled over Tauret's body. Over the stomach area, the garment served to accentuate the uneven mound inside her belly. In fact, her body was thin, hipbones pushing up against skin and delicate fabric. If she normally had a protruding stomach, one would believe it would become smooth and flattened as she lay on her back. Such was not the case.
“Strange we didn't notice that,” Dr. Withers said.
“Now we know why they didn't put her innards in the canopic jars,” Clifford said.
“Let's examine her,” Randy said, gesturing over the unusual shape of one side of the abdomen. “Here lie the fetus's buttocks and legs. The head, of course, is deeper into the pelvis.”
Ginny zoomed in again.
“Someone get one of those doctors back in here,” Dr. Withers said.
Aaron returned with Dr. Kent. He looked to be reeling in disbelief but had no choice but to go along with the scenario, perhaps crack another sardonic joke to get through it. He bent over the body, visually examined it from different angles, and moved to the other side of the sarcophagus. Finally he straightened, chomped down on his empty pipe and said, “If she was pregnant—and it bloody well looks it—she was past the middle of the second trimester. Nearly six months preggars, she was!”
Marlowe moaned and bent close to Tauret's head. She straightened and held the side of her own head. “I knew it! I knew it!” she said, running from the room in a panic.
Dr. Withers followed. So did Ginny and the others. Through the doorway, Chione watched as Marlowe collapsed into her husband's arms in the Offering Chamber. Everyone crowded around her. Dr. Withers sat her down on the floor. She held her head.
Chione found herself completely alone with Tauret. She may never have another chance. Quickly, she reached for the lapis lazuli scarab, pausing only a moment to steady her trembling hands. She grasped and lifted the amulet, not knowing what to expect.
Suddenly a gleaming golden chain fell from the back of the scarab. Chione turned the lapis scarab slightly to see a squared hollow. Inside the hollow lay another scarab made of gold! The scarab was the object Tauret told her to remove. Just as she was about to bring the larger scarab to her to retrieve the one underneath, the golden scarab fell out and lay gleaming under the lights. Quickly she picked it up and replaced the lapis scarab in its original position on Tauret's body. Chione examined the golden scarab. It had a little compartment and lock in the back and seemed to be an exact duplicate of the one she already wore, the one her parents had purchased from a scruffy street vendor in Cairo years before.