Close Up the Sky

by James L. Ferrell

  “Maybe,” Williams agreed. “And there’s one other thing….” He paused for a couple of seconds. “I didn’t mention this part to Summerhour, but while I was climbing back down the hill I thought I heard something like gunfire coming from that direction. It was very faint, but it sounded like that."

  "That proves it!" She was barely able to contain her excitement. "We have to go back and find him right now." She got up and started stuffing things into her pack. "How far is it to the hill you were on? In the daylight we might be able to see something with binoculars."

  “Shouldn't we wait for Summerhour?" Williams asked. "I mean we can't just walk off without letting him know."

  "Let me know what?" They looked up to see Summerhour standing in the doorway. It was early morning, but beads of sweat already stood out on his brow. He had changed into local garb before going down to the village and he looked hot and dirty in the loose fitting robe he wore over his L-suit. He sauntered into the hut and fixed a stare on Taylor. "I said, let me know what?"

  Taylor returned the look, reading his face. "Why didn't you tell me about the fire?" Her voice was cool and level.

  His eyes flicked to Williams then back to Taylor. "I didn't see any point in it. I knew it would only upset you. Besides, Leahy would never light a signal fire for fear of attracting unwanted company. He's too smart for that. If he's alive and stays with the plan, he'll eventually find us."

  She stood her ground. “You may be right, but I’m going back to look for him. Chuck is going with me." Like Williams, she did not mention the gunfire.

  Summerhour clamped his teeth together and spoke in a threatening tone. "No you're not! I'm in charge here. You'll follow my orders or go back to Apache Point. We've already lost one member of this team and we're not going to lose another on a wild goose chase. I won't allow you or anyone else to compromise this mission. Is that clear?" He almost shouted it. He walked to where she was standing and loomed over her, his body language indicating that he was prepared to do whatever was necessary to enforce his authority.

  She glared up at him, on fire with rage. "Then I'll go back to Apache Point! But only after I do what I have to do." Her hands were balled into white-knuckled fists.

  "Listen to me! You have absolutely no idea how important this mission is,” he fired back. “You don't know what you're dealing with. I can't, and won't, let you jeopardize it for the sake of one man." He pushed past her and stood with his back to them. "There's more at stake here than you can possibly imagine," he said in a calmer voice.

  She grabbed his arm and jerked him around. "What happened to the unwritten rule about team effort and support?" she asked him. "The welfare of the team and its individual members comes ahead of the mission, remember? That's our creed. We take care of each other first. Or is there something I don't know about this particular mission?" Her eyes narrowed.

  He pulled away from her and clamped his teeth together so tightly that the muscles in his jaw began to quiver.

  Williams saw that the situation was about to explode and moved to stand between them. He stood facing Taylor, his hands on her shoulders. "You know I'm with you,” he said. “I'll support you, no matter what you decide to do. But fighting among ourselves isn't going to help anything. Maybe Summerhour is right. I spent enough time with Matt to know how smart he is. If he's alive he'll do whatever needs doing to find us.....especially you. But right now I think the smart money is to go on as we planned. Our chances of finding him by wandering around in the desert are almost nil. He knows where we’re going, so we stand a much better chance if we let him find us. Besides, the fire may not have meant anything."

  "But you said....."

  He squeezed her shoulders gently to stop her from saying more. "Never mind what I said. Will you trust me?"

  A long moment passed while she looked into his eyes. At last her body relaxed and she sighed. "Right now it looks like I have no choice." She stepped away from him and confronted Summerhour. "I'll follow your orders for now,” she said in a cool voice, “but if you're holding anything back, or if you're wrong, it will be the last one you’ll give me."

  "Fair enough," he agreed. "And I promise you this: If Matt somehow survived the storm and follows our plan I believe he'll be taken care of."

  A suspicious expression came over her face. "He'll be taken care of? What's that supposed to mean?"

  He put his hands on his hips and looked her in the eyes. “For the moment you’ll just have to take it like it stands. I’ll explain later. Everything you want to know. But right now the two of you put on some local clothes and let's get going. I've arranged for a boat to take us to Thebes."

  Taylor studied the Nile as they walked the short distance to the village. On the near bank, palm trees lined the edge of the water in scattered profusion. They created a modest degree of shade for the villagers, and a number of them sat in their shadows. Beyond the trees, a marshy area dense with bulrushes extended a few yards into the water. At this particular place the river was over a half-mile wide. The far bank appeared to be green with reeds, but boasted no trees. A few mud buildings dotted that distant shore, baking in the morning sun. She could make out a number of small fishing boats anchored a little way out in the water with fishermen casting their nets.

  As they made their way through the village she studied the people they passed. For the most part they were barefoot and scantily clad. Men and women alike wore loincloths, but most of the children playing in the doorways and scampering through the streets were naked. Their skins, naturally dark, were burned to a rich brown by the constant bombardment of the sun. Some of the adults wore thin leather skullcaps to protect their heads from the heat. Because this time period was unspoiled by modern conveniences such as paper, plastic, and aluminum cans, the narrow streets were relatively clean and uncluttered. The villagers appeared friendly, and most of them nodded or smiled as the strangers walked by.

  Several of the men they passed stared at Taylor in open admiration. Two women grinding grain on flat stones outside one of the huts looked up as they went by. One of them pointed to Taylor in amazement and began an excited conversation with her companion. Taylor smiled at them, placed her right hand over her heart, and spoke to them in Egyptian.

  Williams, who had not been fully trained in the language, turned and glanced back at the women. He picked up his pace a little and came up beside Taylor. "What was that all about?" he asked.

  "My eyes," she replied. "They were commenting on the color of my eyes. I have some brown contacts, but they don't work well here because of blowing sand. I usually wear them when I'm around a lot of people. It avoids questions and curiosity. I just forgot to put them in this time."

  Williams glanced sideways and studied her eyes for a second. They were the brightest emerald green he had ever seen in a human, almost the color of some exotic cat's eyes. He had admired her beauty many times since meeting her, but her eyes were her most striking feature.

  "What did you say to them?" he asked.

  A flush came to her cheeks. "They wondered if I was a goddess in human form. I thanked them for the compliment, and assured them that I was not."

  "Matter of opinion," he joked. She had been glum ever since Leahy's disappearance, and his attempt at resurrecting her usual humor failed to elicit any response.

  They turned between two small houses and continued on. A little further along was the village dock, or what passed for one. It was really nothing more than a few boards supported by wooden posts driven into the mud along the bank. A small boat was tied to the dock, and two men were working nearby. They were naked except for the traditional loincloths. The hems of the garments were pulled up between their legs and tucked in at the waist. They stopped their activity and stood waiting as the strangers approached. One of them stepped forward and spoke briefly with Summerhour. The other one made a sweeping motion with his arm in the direction of the river and pointed to the sun.

  "Let's get aboard," Summerhour directed. "They're a
nxious to reach Thebes before nightfall. It appears there's some kind activity going on there that they’re interested in."

  "What kind of activity?" Taylor asked, perking up a little.

  "The pharaoh's banishing a powerful enemy, or something along that order. Broke into the temple and tried to steal some kind of religious article. It apparently stirred up a good deal of excitement among the locals."

  "Oh." She sounded disappointed.

  As they reached the boat Summerhour said, "You two stow your gear in the center and sit forward. I'll take the stern."

  When the passengers were aboard, one of the men climbed in and manned the sweep while his companion untied the boat and pushed off into the current. Williams ducked as the second man jumped aboard, swung the boom around, and raised the sail. The combination of wind and current gave the little craft surprising speed. Water gushed away in small waves from each side of her bow as she headed toward the center of the river.

  Thebes was several hours away even for this fast little craft, so Taylor settled back against the packs and fishing nets piled behind her. She tried to relax but her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Matt. For a moment she had dared to hope that the excitement in Thebes might have something to do with him, but she knew it was impossible that he could have reached the city ahead of them. The information Williams had imparted to her earlier had been like a breath of new life. The belief that Matt was alive and looking for her was now firmly established in her mind, and she visualized him making his way through the desert alone, possibly injured, but eventually reaching the Nile. It would then be a simple matter for him to acquire a boat and continue on to Thebes. When the three of them reached the city she would demand that Summerhour wait as long as necessary for him to catch up. If he refused, she would take action. She had not fully formulated just what that action would be, but in Thebes powerful resources were available to her that not even Summerhour knew about. She had not bothered to mention it to her companions, but she was quite familiar with this period of Egyptian history.

  In her thoughts she returned to a mission two years earlier, when she had worked with a research team assigned to study the court of Ramses II, the most powerful king of Egypt's Eighteenth Dynasty. He was also the pharaoh presumed by many Biblical scholars to have been the foe of Moses during the time of the Exodus. She smiled as an image of Charlton Heston dressed in Hebrew robes materialized in her mind. During that mission, she and her team had applied to the pharaoh's court for access to the palace in order to write a history of his personal achievements. Other time travelers had found this approach successful in obtaining permission to study rare documents that might otherwise be inaccessible to them. They knew that most people in positions of power have large egos, and in that regard Ramses was no exception. The project had taken more than six months to complete, during which time she had made numerous friends in his court, including Queen Nefertari, Ramses’s favorite wife. The two of them had spent many evenings together discussing the life of the king. She had eventually become Nefertari’s confidant, privileged to hear secrets known only to the members of Ramses's inner circle.

  Taylor's confidence in her ability to exercise control over her current situation reasserted itself. That, coupled with the gentle yawing of the boat, began to have a calming effect on her. The desolate beauty of the land she had grown to love, and her memories of Nefertari, raised her spirits. Then she recalled what Summerhour had said during their confrontation in the hut about Matt being taken care of. When they reached Thebes and were alone, she would question him further about the comment. She did not know how it was to be accomplished, but her feminine instinct told her that everything was going to work out for the best.

  She lifted a hand to shade her eyes from the sun. Since leaving the hut it seemed to have climbed much higher into the cloudless sky. She squinted against the glare off the water as they passed some fishing boats. One of the fishermen waved a friendly greeting and she waved back. Turning, she looked into the distance and saw a larger boat coming toward them from the opposite direction. The oarsmen were pulling hard, and within a few minutes it slipped by less than a hundred feet away. As it passed she noted that it had a larger crew than usual for its size, and that some of them were soldiers. She could also see a bearded man sitting slumped over with his forehead against the mast. She strained to see his face but was unable to make out any features. A blanket lay across his shoulders, an unusual practice for the hot climate. Two of the soldiers appeared to be standing guard over him. Several others moved to the boat’s rail and scrutinized them as they sailed by.

  "What are they staring at?" Williams asked.

  "Who knows," Summerhour responded, "but from the looks of them I'm glad they're going in the opposite direction."

  As Taylor turned and watched the boat pull away from them, anxiety suddenly replaced the calmness she had been feeling. She scanned every foot of its exterior, but except for the soldiers and the poor man at the mast, she saw nothing unusual. Before turning back around she noticed a bright red pennant flying from the masthead. For some reason she thought of a ghostly saying that her mother occasionally used to explain an irrational feeling of anxiety. She shuttered and wrapped her arms around herself as she repeated it aloud.

  “Someone just walked over my grave.”

  Chapter 16

  Matt left his sanctuary as soon as it was daylight. He did not bother to look at the Morruk bodies again. What he had seen the night before was enough to last for the rest of his life. After drinking some water and eating another of the ration packs, he started out for the Nile. The morning air was cold, but it felt like balm on his parched face. As he walked he remained alert for any signs of his team, but there was no indication that anything had ever been there except the relentless sun and wind. Resolved to make up as much lost time as possible, he settled into a steady gait and trekked on.

  The journey to the Nile was uneventful, and he now lay concealed behind some bushes at the edge of the village he had seen from the hilltop. As a precaution he rolled up the legs of the L-suit and donned a contemporary robe and sandals before exposing himself. The lightweight white garment was made of a flaxen material, and reached almost to the tops of his sandals. It did a perfect job of hiding the L-suit. From his vantage point he could see a number of people on the narrow street that ran between the mud-brick houses. He could also see most of the river, and noticed that just beyond the village a small quay jutted into the water. An almost naked man was working at something near the bow of a boat tied up there. He needed a boat to take him to Thebes, and this looked like a perfect opportunity to acquire one. He drank the rest of the water from the skin, dropped it in the bushes, and began walking toward the quay. A few of the villagers looked in his direction as he walked along, but they appeared unconcerned at his presence. All of them were clad in simple loincloths or other skimpy garments, and as he passed they continued working at whatever tasks occupied their day. Occasionally, one of them would nod a greeting, but to his relief no words were exchanged.

  As he approached the quay, the man working on the boat stood up and regarded him with mild curiosity. He was short and lean, and his face showed the weathered lines of many years in the sun. Matt guessed him to be at least sixty years old. A few tufts of white hair poked out from beneath the skullcap he wore. He smiled and waited for the stranger to speak.

  Matt glanced around the area then returned the old man's smile. He cleared his throat and said, "The day grows warm already." He did not know exactly how to open the conversation and feared he might say something offensive.

  "Yes," the man answered. "You are a stranger here," he observed.

  Matt's nervousness increased. "I do not wish to bother you, sir, but I have come far and need help."

  "Please sit, and cool yourself in the shade," the man offered. He indicated a small cluster of palms a few yards from the quay. They walked to the trees and sat down beneath them. The Egyptian crossed his legs Indian fas
hion and folded his hands in his lap. His kindly brown eyes searched Matt's face as he waited for him to speak.

  "I am in need of passage to Thebes," Matt said. "I saw you working on the boat and hoped you might take me there. I have no money, but I can pay you in goods." He took off the pack and placed it on the ground between them.

  "Thebes is a great distance from here," observed the old man. "But before we discuss payment, may I know your name?"

  "Forgive me, please. It was rude of me not to introduce myself. I have spent many hours crossing the desert and I forgot my manners. My name is Matt."

  The old man nodded. “I am called Tarel, and this is my village.” He swept a thin arm across the cluster of houses. He squinted at Matt as though studying his face. "You are burned. Has the desert sun done this?"

  Matt instinctively reached up and felt his face where the Morruk fire had reddened the skin. It was still painful to the touch. "No, it was something else," he replied. "But it is of no consequence. Will you take me to Thebes?"

  Tarel nodded and did not pursue the issue of the burns. "Did you wish to leave now?"

  "It is of great importance that I reach the city as soon as possible. Perhaps we could reach it before nightfall?"

  "I believe it could be done," Tarel said, "but first I must provision the boat. I am a fisherman by trade, so I am not prepared for such a long journey."

  "Of course, sir," Matt replied. "I understand. How long will it take to make preparations?"

  "First the payment," Tarel said. "If I do not spend the day catching fish, my family will have no food. I must therefore purchase it for them."

  Matt nodded, opened the pack, and spread its contents on the ground. There were a few articles of clothing, a tube of concentrated insect repellent, some food packets, a small first aid kit, and his boots. Tarel picked up each of the items and studied them. The foil-encased food packets appeared to interest him most. He rejected all the other items, including the boots, which were much too large for his small feet.