by Steve Howrie
“I am Joe.”
I was trying to get my head around this. We’d travelled over than 12,000 years back in time, but it felt like we’d travelled into the future. If what Niki said was true, then these people could travel to countries all over the globe at will – and at high speed – just as we do in aeroplanes, but possibly faster than ours. And how about outer space? I was desperate to find out more.
“Nik,” I whispered, “what do you think about us taking a closer look?” She nodded, and we crept out from our hiding place, and moved carefully and quietly in the direction of the largest of the pyramids.
As we moved out of hiding, making our way down a gentle slope towards the plateau, I began thinking about this civilisation we were witnessing – and what had happened to them. All knowledge of their technology had clearly been lost – how had that happened?
We reached the buildings surrounding the first pyramid without being noticed. It seemed to be a very relaxed atmosphere, and we had no difficulty walking inside what appeared to be the main building. If we wanted to blend in, then an international airport (if that was what this was) was a good place to be.
Whilst some people were not so different from us in shape and size, we were taken aback by the appearance of others. They had large heads with large eyes, but their faces and teeth were small, giving them a sort of ‘alien’ look. Larger brain sizes, perhaps? Up to half the people we saw were like this. There were others that looked a little Asian, some African, and others maybe European. I really wanted to talk to someone, but we didn’t want to attract attention by trying.
Our attire was completely out of fashion and we did receive a few strange looks. Most people were wearing incredibly bright and colourful clothes – the type you’d see in an exotic stage musical, and we couldn’t help gazing at the amazing array of dress and colour. One man, dressed in what we guessed was some sort of uniform, approached us and said something in a language we did not understand. Well, we’d travelled back in time more than twelve thousand years – we can’t expect anyone to speak the Queen’s English. We smiled at the man and moved away quickly.
We could hear aircraft taking off at regular intervals now, and we went outside to watch. Their take–off was very different from that of aeroplanes in our time and the whole process seemed to be more like taking a ride at a theme park. Three of the four sides of the pyramid were being used, sending the crafts in different directions. I wondered how long it would take to fly to Shanghai or Acapulco from where we were. How I would have loved to have jumped on one of these machines there and then! Niki and I looked at each other with the same thought.
“Maybe another time,” she said.
We decided to take a look around the plateau before heading home. We were standing close to the largest of the pyramids, and beyond this were the two others (Khafre and Menkaure according to Niki). We could hear the sound of what we thought might be construction work near the second pyramid, so we decided to walk down to take a look. It was difficult to relate the thriving complex we were now amongst to the bleakness of the Giza plateau we had left twelve thousand five hundred years ago. Only the shape of the three pyramids assured us that we were in the same place.
As we walked, I asked Niki what she thought about the strange–looking people we had seen in the airport building.
“Boskops,” she said.
“Boskops?” I repeated.
“People that were believed to have existed between 36,500 and 11,600 years ago,” replied Niki. “They had large brain capacities, small child–like faces and big eyes – well, that’s what archaeologists believe. In 1913 two farmers discovered parts of a skull in Nan Fei...”
“South Africa?”
“Yes – close to a village called Boskop.”
“What happened to them?”
“I think the farmers took the pieces to a museum,” replied Nik
“Duh! I mean what happened to the Boskops?”
“Oh, it’s said they were wiped out by climate changes – floods, land upheavals – that sort of thing. After the first skull was found, many others were dug up in other places.”
“Proving it couldn’t have been a genetic defect that caused this,” I said.
“Yes… and not a hoax either.”
“Like Piltdown Man?”
“Right.”
This was all very interesting. A different type of human, with a larger brain size, could definitely account for this advanced technology.
As we got closer to the second pyramid, the sound of some sort of construction work became louder… and then we saw something that really opened our eyes. About a hundred metres ahead, a huge piece of stone was being levitated – right in front of us. It must have weighed several tonnes. Workmen were clearly manoeuvring it using some sort of device, lifting the stone effortlessly in any direction they wanted. As I was gazing at this in amazement, Niki drew my attention to something else.
“Look at that Joe!” she gasped.
Close to the man levitating the huge stone block, another engineer was cutting another block in half. Again, he was pointing some sort of device in the direction of the stone, and seemed to be cutting it by magic.
“Is that a laser?” I asked.
“I don’t think so,” she replied, “I think it’s something we’ve yet to discover… you can’t lift stones like that with light.” We both looked on incredulously. “I think it’s sound!” she whispered.
These ‘Boskops’, these amazing people, had discovered how to use ultrasound to move, cut and lift huge blocks of rose granite – effortlessly. It was truly amazing to witness, and I discretely took as many photographs as I could with my phone. In our world, the most we can do with ultrasound is clean our teeth or monitor a foetus in the womb. These humanoids twelve thousand years ago had taken the technology to a whole new level.
Both Niki’s big questions had now been answered. First, the pyramids were not built by the Egyptians – their construction was at least 8000 years earlier than the experts imagined – well before the Ancient Egyptians made their appearance – utilising an advanced form of ultrasound to cut and lift the huge granite blocks. Second, they were designed as take–off ramps for small aircraft which travelled the globe. This race of people had astounded us by their technology and know–how, and we both wanted to engage in some sort of conversation with them and learn more. And that’s exactly what we got – but not quite in the way we were thinking.
As we were reflecting on our discovery, someone approached us from behind, grabbing our arms and confiscating my phone. We turned to see two men dressed in uniform, speaking harsh–sounding words.
“I’m sorry, we don’t speak your language,” I apologised.
“Ting bu dong,” Nik said in Chinese.
Clearly, conversing with these people in any language we knew was useless – but it wasn’t difficult to understand their discontent with our presence on the building site. They tied our arms and forcibly led us away to a structure close to one of the smaller pyramids. We were pushed through an entrance by the guard with my phone, whilst the other guard went elsewhere.
“Was this the type of holiday you imagined Nik?” I said, trying to make light of the situation. The rap on my back from the guard told me clearly that talking was not a good idea. The second guard returned ten minutes later with a woman. She was small in stature, and around thirty–five, I guessed. Her appearance was very different from the men, and she wore a beautiful multi–coloured silk robe. She was undoubtedly one of the Boskop people.
The woman beckoned us to sit on two small stools in the room. We complied, and she sat close to us, across a stone table. She spoke some words, which sounded very different from the language the guards used. Her voice had an amazing soft yet resonant quality about it. With my arms tied, I shrugged by shoulders, thinking it was the only way to convey my non–understanding. She seemed to get it, and her attention switched to Niki. She seemed very interested in Nik’s app
earance – her face, hair and dress – and examined her very closely. Suddenly the woman reached out to touch Nik’s face – to which Nik automatically moved her head away. The woman smiled reassuringly and beckoned Nik to let her touch her head.
“I think it’s okay,” I said to Niki. “I don’t think she’s going to hurt you.” Niki nodded and allowed the woman to touch first her hair then her skin. I watched the woman’s eyes as she carefully and gently touched Nik’s face. She had dazzling large eyes, which shone with a brilliant blue-green radiance. She placed two fingers from each hand on the temples of Nik’s head and closed her own eyes.
“Oh!” gasped Niki.
“What is it?” But Nik’s eyes were now closed. She was still breathing, which I was relieved to see, and after a couple of minutes she appeared to be completely relaxed. My instincts told me to just watch and monitor. There was little I could do with my arms secured in any case, and the Boskop woman didn’t seem like the sort who would harm Niki (not that I’ve got loads of experience of Boskops). After about ten or twelve minutes, the woman took her hands from Niki’s head, kissed her on both cheeks, and smiled at me.
“Now I know,” she spoke in broken English. “I know about your World. Welcome to ours.”
I was stunned – utterly stunned. What exactly had happened at that moment was beyond belief. We had travelled more than twelve thousand years back in time and discovered a race far more advanced, in many ways, than our own. A peaceful race, I conjectured. And this woman, this anomaly in humankind which twenty–first century scientists had named the ‘Boskops’, had just spoken to me in my native tongue.
Niki came round as if from a long and very restful sleep.
“Joe,” she said gently rubbing her eyes, “I just had an amazing dream!” She turned to see the woman smiling at her. “And this is Crimson,” she told me.
“How on… how on earth do you know that?” I asked.
“We just connected,” she replied. I looked into Niki’s eyes to see her more contented, more joyous and more at peace than I’d seen for a very long time.
“Would you like to see our World? I mean, visit it in person?” Niki asked Crimson.
“I would,” she replied, “but another time. People need me here now – and I have much work to do. But please return – I would like to show you more of our land.”
“We will,” Nik replied, embracing Crimson. “Thank you.”
Crimson took my phone from the guard and returned it to me. We left the building and returned to the small park, from where we jumped back to the present. It had been an amazing, eye–opening couple of days, and we needed time to take it all in.
***
Thirty–Two
Having returned to London, it was difficult at first to get back to our normal way of life without thinking about our trip to Egypt - and the Boskops . The experience had had a big effect on both of us – particularly on Niki, who seemed to have changed in her thoughts. She was much quieter and more thoughtful than usual, and would sit still for long periods in the lounge within her own world. Eventually, though, over time, we both gradually got back to our usual routines.
Some time later, we were having dinner in Niki’s favourite Italian restaurant, and the conversation inevitably came round to our Egyptian adventure.
“That was something else, wasn’t it Nik?” I said. “Egypt I mean.”
She nodded, and put down her fork. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it Joe – we must go back.”
“We will,” I replied, “we have to. When I look at the pictures I took, they don’t look real. They’re like something out of a movie set.” I paused and then said, “What exactly happened with Crimson, Nik? And what was that ‘Vulcan mind thing’?” She looked at me, recalling the experience.
“It was like I was connected to the Universe, to everything. And all the things that people usually worry about – money, health, security, war – just meant nothing. And then I suddenly could see her world, and how it was so different from ours. It was based on pure love, and that was all that mattered.”
“All you need is love,” I quipped, instantly regretting it.
Niki just smiled. “If you could go back in time to any period you wanted Joe, where would you go?”
“What do you mean ‘if’? We can go anywhere we want, at any time, can’t we?”
“I mean if I let you,” she grinned. This was the Niki I knew.
We had been back from Egypt for over two weeks now, and having travelled to the place she always wanted to go, Niki was eager for me to explore my must–see destination.
“Okay. Of all the places I’d like to go, it would have to be China, of course. You know I’ve always been interested in ancient Chinese artefacts.”
“Are you calling me an ancient artefact?” she asked.
“Well, you are a bit arty. Seriously, Xi’an at the time of Emperor Qin Shi Huang. I’d really like to know what’s in that tomb of his.”
Emperor Qin (pronounced ‘Chin’) was the first to unite the many disparate kingdoms within Niki’s homeland into one country. It is said that the name China actually comes from the name of the Emperor. I’d read that he achieved this unification by first waging wars with the kings close to his home territory (wars which he always won), and second by making friends and allegiances with distant kingdoms – those really too far away to wage expensive wars with. It seemed to work – for a while anyway.
Qin’s capital, Xi’an, is situated in Shaanxi Province in Central China. The city’s wall, still completely intact, dates from the Ming Dynasty (around 1370 ACE). The area is famous for the Terracotta Warriors, thousands of lifelike earthenware soldiers and horses which were constructed to guard the area surrounding Emperor Qin’s mausoleum. I’d seen the warriors on a trip to China to visit Niki’s relatives several years ago, and that’s when I became fascinated by Qin’s tomb. You wouldn’t think that pottery figures could scare anyone away, but it seems that the mausoleum has never been plundered or excavated.
“I’m always ready to go to China with you Joe, but you don’t need to go to Xi’an just to know what’s in the tomb: it’s all written down in the history books.”
“Are these the same books which tell us about the pyramids? I quipped.
“That’s different! We record our history properly in China – we have meticulous records.”
“Meticulous! I’ve never heard you use that word before.”
“Don’t forget I’ve read more English literature than you Joe Cooper.”
“Well, reading about what’s in the tomb, and seeing it with your own eyes are two very different things.”
“You’re right,” admitted Niki.
“I am?”
“Yes, you’re always right. But whilst reading about the treasures is perfectly safe, seeing them with your own eyes is going to get you killed.”
She did have a point. According to the ‘meticulous records’, craftsmen were ordered to make crossbows and arrows which were then primed to shoot at anyone who entered the tomb. And if that didn't work, rivers of mercury (simulating the great rivers of China) ran throughout the entire complex – and we all know how poisonous mercury can be.
After Qin’s grand funeral ceremony had been completed, and the treasures were hidden away, the inner gates were blocked and the outer gates lowered – trapping inside all the workers and craftsmen who had worked on the tomb. No–one could escape – all those who knew of the tomb’s treasures and secrets were buried alive with their knowledge. But despite the possible dangers, a burning curiosity was driving me to take a look inside the tomb.
“Maybe if you were invisible, you could get away with it.” Niki suggested as we left the restaurant and headed for home.
“I’ll work on that,” I said.
*
I decided that I needed to do more research if this idea of mine was to be successful. By successful, I mean not getting shot by arrows, overcome by mercury poisoning or buried a
live in the Emperor’s tomb. Niki had been right about the Chinese records of the time – they were pretty damn good. In particular, I discovered that a peasant rebellion broke out during the late Qin Dynasty. This was quelled by military general Zhang Han utilising all 700,000 people employed on the construction of Qin’s mausoleum. As a result, all work on the tomb was suspended. This seemed like a good time to visit the site – but how to become invisible?
“Well, for a start, you can’t go like that,” Niki replied whilst we were in our office, researching the trip.
She was right, of course. As a twenty–first century foreigner, I was going to stand out like a sore thumb if I wore jeans and a tee–shirt with John Lennon’s face emblazoned across the front. But seeing that I was dead set on jumping to ancient China, she said she’d help. Somehow, Niki was going to make me look Chinese – and at the same time make us both look like we were natives of 209 BC China, the time of the peasant rebellion in question. I was interested to see how she was going to achieve this.
Apart from the question of appearance, there was the problem (for me anyway) of language. What tongue did the locals speak at that time? According to Niki, modern Mandarin is based on the standardisation of the language which the Qin Dynasty introduced, and understanding and conversing with the natives in modern Mandarin would be something akin to me having a chat in modern English with Bill Shakespeare. Her own modern accent and speech would naturally seem strange; but with so many different kingdoms incorporated into the Qin Empire in 209BC, hearing another dialect might not seem so uncommon.
However, written language would be more difficult. Written Chinese at that time was in a sort of logographic style, as it had been in the earlier Zhou Dynasty. Nik said she’d seen these old characters, but had no idea how to read them; so we’d just have to wing it as far as that goes. Anyway, hopefully we wouldn’t have to read or write anything (it’s not like there’s going to be signs saying: ‘This way to the secret Mausoleum’). So it was decided: our next big jump would be to Xi’an, China, 209 BC. We didn’t realise at the time that it could be our last.
***