Close Up the Sky

by James L. Ferrell

  Williams shook his head and gave a low whistle. "Holy cow, woman. You can't go out alone looking like that!"

  Summerhour stood peering out one of the small front windows of the house. The narrow streets were teeming with people, carts, and animals. It was late afternoon and the summer heat had reached its peak. A little breeze drifted through the window bringing a few flies with it. He swatted them away from his face and turned to Taylor. "How do you know the pharaoh and the queen are even here? What if they're in their home palace at Pi-Ramses?"

  "They're here all right. This is the feast of Amen. That's why there are so many people in the streets. Amen's feast is always celebrated at Thebes."

  "I guess that's why there are so many flies here, too? I mean, for the feast?" Williams inquired with attempted humor.

  "Flies are always bad near the cities," Taylor answered, ignoring the pun. "But they're probably worse on us than on the Egyptians. If they bother you so much, use some insect repellent." She was still incensed at him for siding with Summerhour when she had wanted to go back and search for Matt.

  "Will you be back before night?" Summerhour asked.

  "I'll be as quick as possible. A certain amount of diplomacy has to be used when dealing with Egyptian royalty. You know that."

  He nodded. "It's just that I hate waiting."

  "There's something you can do while I'm gone. You and Chuck can get into the streets and watch for Matt. If he followed us, he should be here before nightfall."

  “That’s not a bad idea,” said Williams. “All of this may be old hat to you two, but I’d like to see some of the city. Not much chance I'll ever get back here, you know. Besides, we don't stand a chance of running into him if we just sit here."

  "Okay," Summerhour said to Taylor. "We'll go hang around the docks until evening. If he's coming, that's where we'll have the best chance of spotting him. You try to be back by then."

  She looked at him for a long moment. "You know how much this means to me, Mike." Her voice was level, quiet, almost threatening.

  He nodded. "Don't worry. If he's already here, or shows up later, we'll find him."

  She turned and walked out the door.

  "You don't really believe that, do you?" Williams asked after he was sure Taylor was out of hearing.

  "No. He probably died in the sandstorm. But she's an indispensable member of this team, so we'll have to humor her. Let's go."

  Both of them were wearing thin robes of brown cotton that reached to their ankles. Beneath them were their L-suits, utility belts and weapons. They stepped into the street and turned toward the docks. Hundreds of people jammed the streets, laughing, talking and jostling each other as they went about their business. Along the way they passed food stands loaded with fresh fish, fruit, and a variety of vegetables. Others offered clothing, fine cloth, pottery, jewelry, and cooking oils. Visitors from all over the known world clogged the thoroughfares of Thebes to pay homage to Egypt's greatest god, and possibly make a profit during his feast. Hittites, Nubians, Libyans, Greeks, and Trojans, all in colorful clothing, mixed freely with the native Egyptians who wore simple loincloths or shifts. The entire city was aglow with a festive atmosphere, making it much easier for Summerhour and Williams to walk through the streets without attracting attention.

  They browsed through the markets as they walked, and after half an hour reached the proximity of the docks. Williams was about to offer an opinion on where they should set up their surveillance when a melee erupted in the throng ahead of them. A man was fleeing from a group of soldiers, but his escape was being hampered by the size of the crowd. The soldiers were shouting and making threats as they pursued him. As he looked back over his shoulder he accidentally crashed into one of the vendor's booths and sprawled headlong to the ground. Before he could get up, the soldiers were on him and pinned him down. After a brief struggle they pulled him to his feet. One of them produced a cord from inside his tunic and began tying his hands behind his back. The prisoner threw his head back in resignation and stared at the sky.

  Summerhour grabbed Williams’s arm just as he was about to make a move to intervene. "Don't create a scene," he said just loud enough for the other man to hear.

  Williams shook off the grip. "What the hell's the matter with you? That's Matt!"

  "I know, but we can't do anything in this crowd and we'd probably have to kill those soldiers to free him. They apparently don't mean him any immediate harm or they wouldn't be tying him up. We'll follow them and see where they take him. Right now let's try and get a little closer so he can see us." They edged their way through the crowd to within a few feet of the soldiers. Matt was still looking up.

  "Thought you'd fooled us with that story about being robbed, didn't you?" the leader of the soldiers spat into his ear as he tied him. "Now we'll show you what happens to spies!" He jerked hard on the cord he was using on Matt's wrists. Matt grimaced in pain, but made no response.

  Summerhour pushed through to the front of the crowd. People were milling around and nodding in anticipation of the punishment that would be meted out to the prisoner.

  Matt let his gaze drift across the faces in the crowd, passed over Summerhour, and then jerked his eyes back. Other than that, he gave no sign of recognition. Summerhour gave him a faint nod. Matt picked out Williams, then searched intently for another face, but did not see her.

  The soldiers spun him around and dragged him down a side street away from the market. A filthy looking man in a dark robe followed close behind them. Summerhour and Williams trailed at a discrete distance, and after about fifteen minutes the soldiers stopped at a bronze door set in a high wall. One of them banged on it with the butt of his spear. Someone on the other side opened a peephole and looked out. After a few words the door swung open. The leader of the group shoved Matt through and followed him. The door clanged shut with the solid sound of finality. The other two soldiers remained outside and spoke briefly with the dark-robed man. Whatever they said made him begin gesticulating wildly. One of the soldiers shoved him against the wall, pointed a finger in his face, and said something between clenched teeth. Whatever he said caused the man to throw up his hands and calm down. After some further discussion the three of them started back the way they had come. Summerhour and Williams were leaning against a wall and tried to look as nonchalant as possible as the men passed them.

  "Old Memhotep will get the truth out of him all right," one of the soldiers said as they went by.

  "I have no doubt he could squeeze water from a brick," the other guard responded. “He’ll be lucky if he lives through the night.”

  They continued talking as they walked, but their voices were soon lost in the distance. The robed man had been following a little way behind the soldiers, and as he walked by the time travelers he gave them a narrow-eyed look. Through his beard they could see a bloody cut on his face. He continued to stare at them over his shoulder until he was well past their location. His scrutiny was so intense that he lost track of his direction and bumped into a wall. He grunted, but quickly recovered his composure and hurried after the soldiers.

  "What's his problem?" Williams asked.

  "Who knows, but he was sure a nasty looking character."

  "You can say that again. Well, what do we do now?"

  "Nothing. That’s the outer wall of what you might call the city jail.” Summerhour pointed toward the door Matt had gone through. “They'll hold him there for a few days, at least until the feast of Amen is over. It’s a custom that no prisoner can be punished during the feast days, and by that time we'll have figured a way to get him out. Until then he'll have to fend for himself, and it could get a little rough."

  "I wouldn't worry too much about that,” Williams retorted. “I’ve seen him work.”

  “I’m curious about why that man was following the soldiers.” Summerhour mused. “There’s something peculiar about it, but I can’t quite connect all the dots. It’s almost as though he was expecting a reward or something and d
idn’t get it.”

  "Who knows. Let's get back to the house,” Williams said. “At least we'll have some good news for Taylor when she returns."

  Chapter 17

  The hallways of the great palace at Thebes were dark and cool. Tall columns covered with hieroglyphics of every imaginable description lined each side of the polished stone floors. Egyptian artists had spared no detail in painting them with pastel shades of red, brown, green, and gold. Pictographs of warriors, gods, women, animals, and birds were represented in various postures, all paying homage in one form or another to the great Pharaoh Ramses.

  Taylor walked behind a female slave who was leading her to the quarters of Ramses's head wife and most beloved, Queen Nefertari. Their feet made no sound as they proceeded along the corridor. The silence amplified the timeless wonder she felt each time she entered one of Egypt's great temples or palaces. She had arrived at the gate shortly after leaving her companions and requested an audience with Nefertari. One of the guards recognized her from her previous stay at the palace and remembered the favor she held with the queen. He had immediately sent word to Nefertari, and now she was only minutes away from a reunion with the most powerful woman of the Egyptian world.

  After making several turns down side corridors, they arrived at a set of polished bronze doors mounted between a pair of stone columns. Burly guards armed with spears and swords stood on either side of the doors. Taylor recognized this as the entrance to the personal quarters of the queen. But even if she had not, both columns were imprinted with Nefertari's own cartouche that read: Lady of Two Lands and Great Wife of Ramses, Nefertari. The slave girl, Tuahla, spoke briefly with one of the guards then raised the decorative knocker and rapped softly on the door. Without waiting for an answer, she opened it and ushered Taylor inside. Exquisite furniture and tapestries adorned the receiving area. Chairs, sofas, and tables painted in a multitude of bright colors were tastefully positioned about the room, some of them inlaid with decorative squares of turquoise, gold, and onyx. Finely embroidered rugs and mats were strewn across the floor to accentuate the richness of the apartment. Sheer curtains made of Trojan silk dyed gold and blue hung in gauzy folds on the walls.

  Nefertari was standing on a balcony overlooking the inner courtyard of the royal harem. Her back was to them, but as they entered she turned and gave Taylor a warm smile of greeting. She was dressed in a pleated white garment of silky texture banded at the waist with a blue sash. The elbow-length sleeves were wide, with golden threads running through the cuffs. The front of her gown was open to the waist, revealing the inner contour of her breasts. A narrow band of gold adorned with the royal cobra diadem held back her long dark hair. Her lips were stained with cherry rouge and her almond eyes glowed with warmth. Taylor had almost forgotten how stunning she was. It was little wonder that historians of her time had recorded her as 'Nefertari of the Beautiful Face.' She came forward with open arms. "Taylor! It has been too long since you last visited our court."

  The two women embraced warmly, then held each other at arm's length. Under ordinary circumstances it would have been forbidden to touch the queen, but Taylor held a special position in Nefertari's court. As one of the biographers of Ramses's life and times, she enjoyed many freedoms that other courtiers did not. Such a position had placed her well within the inner circles of the queen's daily life, and a special friendship had developed between them. Of course the royal family did not know that the real writers of their legacies were actually men and women who lived three thousand years in the future, and that Taylor was simply the bearer of first-hand information that fueled their writing skills.

  "You are more beautiful than ever, Your Majesty."

  "Nonsense!" Nefertari admonished in mock indignation. "You are just flattering someone whose seasons are passing much too quickly. But tell me of yourself! Where have you been these last few years?" She led Taylor to a sofa near the balcony where they sat down.

  "Across the desert, traveling in Babylon, Troy, and other places," she replied. "But you have never been far from my thoughts, Your Majesty. When I was lonely I always remembered the friendship you showed me while I was a guest in your court. It made my heart feel glad to think of you." She squeezed the queen's hands and continued to hold them.

  Nefertari looked deeply into Taylor's eyes. She remained silent for a while then said, "I see trouble in your face, Taylor. There is a sadness there that I have not seen before. What is it, and what can I do to help?"

  "Your perception is very keen, Majesty. I desperately need your help to find someone who is lost. The lives of many of my people may depend upon locating this man."

  Nefertari sat back and regarded Taylor closely for several seconds. Then she clapped her hands and Tuahla appeared from another room. "Bring refreshments, Tuahla. Taylor will stay and dine with me." When Tuahla had gone she said to Taylor, "Now, tell me the story."

  Taylor sat in silence for a long moment, then looked at the queen and began her story. "Some time ago astrologers in my land observed a star fall from the sky. Because of their great knowledge they were able to ascertain that it fell to earth somewhere in Egypt, most probably in the Valley of the Kings. A marvelous stone of untold importance to my people was buried in the heart of the star. It is a stone of unsurpassed beauty that glows with green fire."

  At mention of the stone Taylor saw a perceptive look cross Nefertari's face, indicating that she knew something about the stellarite. At that moment Tuahla returned with the food. Though she had no reason to mistrust the queen’s handmaiden, she did not continue the story until the girl had set the tray of delicacies on a table and departed. "My people use the power of such a stone to carry out many great feats of science," she went on. "It is so important to the very fabric of our civilization, that our scribes sent a group of our most learned citizens to find and recover this one from the Valley of the Kings. The people we sent did not return, so we sent others to find them. But when they arrived, they found that someone had already removed the stone, and that all but one of our envoys had been killed. The survivor has disappeared and no one knows where he has gone. Inside the diggings was a necklace with the cartouche of the pharaoh. One of his personal guards must have accidentally dropped it during the excavation. It is for that reason I have come to you. I wish to know if the stone is here."

  Nefertari rose and walked to where she could look out the balcony doors. She kept her back to Taylor for a long moment before she turned. "I believe you are speaking of the Eye of Amen."

  Simultaneous sensations of relief and anxiety washed over Taylor. She got up and went over to the queen. "Then you have seen it? You know where it is?"

  Nefertari’s serenity turned to nervousness and she wrung her hands. "We also saw the star you spoke of fall from the heavens. Our priests assured us it was a sign from Amen sent in recognition of the pharaoh's birthday. For that reason he sent his personal guard and some slaves to find it and bring it back. They returned with the stone you seek. In gratitude to Amen, Ramses placed it in the holy temple where he prayed for many days. Then a stranger came among us and attempted to steal it. The temple guards arrested him and brought him before the pharaoh. This man suffered from a head wound, and was possessed by spirits. For reasons I do not know, the pharaoh believed that he was one of the sea people. The stranger was not in his right mind much of the time, so the pharaoh ordered him put aboard a boat and sent downriver. He was to be placed in the care of a caravan master and returned to his own people without further harm. Before he departed, the pharaoh presented him with the Eye of Amen as a peace offering from our people to his. You see, there is a great fear in Egypt that the sea people might someday destroy us, and we did not wish to provoke them."

  Taylor saw that the queen had become upset, so she took her hand and held it. “Your Majesty, did you see this man yourself? Can you describe him?"

  Nefertari could not help noticing the apprehension in the other woman's voice. "I did not personally see him, Taylor, but Ramse
s told me of him. His complexion was very fair, similar to the people from the far side of the sea on our northern border. His hair was light, almost the color of sand, and he wore strange black clothing."

  Taylor let out the breath she had been holding. "Did you say he was sent downriver?"

  "Yes. He was placed aboard a barge and departed only today."

  She felt the blood drain from her face. The man tied to the mast of the barge they had passed on their way to Thebes must have been Edward Leahy! Now she understood the presence of the soldiers on the ship.

  "Your Majesty, I must know exactly where this barge is going," she pleaded.

  Nefertari disengaged her hand and took a step backward. She looked at Taylor in a curious, almost fearful way. "Are you one of the sea people, Taylor?" Her voice was a whisper. “I must know this.”

  Taylor's mind was racing. She evaded Nefertari's question. "Majesty, I believe this man is one of my people; the one who is missing from the Valley of the Kings. In addition to searching for the stone, we are also looking for him. I must see the pharaoh as soon as possible. Will you help me?"

  "You did not answer me, Taylor." Nefertari's voice was calm but firm. "Are you one of the sea people?"

  "I do not know who these sea people are that you fear, Your Majesty. But I swear on our friendship that neither I nor my people mean you any harm."

  Nefertari looked deeply into her eyes for a long moment and saw only sincerity. “I will arrange the audience," she said. "Come back to the palace when the sun sets. I will have someone waiting to take you before the pharaoh."

  "There is one other thing, Your Majesty, if I am not presuming too far on our friendship."

  "What is it?"