Chapter II

The moment he opened the metal door to the laboratory, a loud explosion shook the entire floor, and the alarms immediately flashed red. Much to Daniel's surprise, the familiar howl of the alerts was missing.

"I deactivated it," came the answer to his silent musings. A silhouette in a teal protective suit emerged from behind the screen of smoke. "Since these things go off three times a day…no point going deaf, don't you think, dear?" Omaurice—Oma, for short—Desala removed the mask that shielded her face, giving her son a cheerful smile. "I almost did it this time! Took the fuel a whole eight point three seconds to blow up!"

Daniel examined the isolated room that contained the remains of her experiment. The protective glass was blackened from the explosion, but he could make out some pieces of metal strewn about the room.

"Well…that does look encouraging…" he lied.

"Oh, who am I kidding…" Oma dropped into a chair, pulling off her rubber gloves with a frustrated gesture. "I'm this close to being kicked out of here, and this boneheaded contraption is no closer to working than it was on day one."

"You know that's not true," he countered, draping an arm around her shoulders (the soot covered him up to the elbow) and giving an encouraging squeeze. "This is the most advanced facility in the country, and you're the brightest mind they've got. You'll figure it out eventually."

She looked up at him, smiling almost against herself.

"You're just saying that to get on my good side."

"Well, you do supply my daily coffee, so that's the side I need to be on."

She gave a small laugh, then gazed dreamily inside the blackened experiment room.

"Well, the clean-up crew will be here in a few seconds, now that the alarms have stopped. In the meantime, why don't you help me test the new alloy I've been working on?"

"Is it going to explode?" She gave him a mock-menacing glare, and he raised his palms defensively. "Nevermind."

A few minutes later, he was watching her place a small metal plate into a disproportionately larger machine, one that took up half a wall. Oma checked the settings, introduced a few commands into the control panel, then pulled what seemed to be the activation lever. A few control leds lit up, and the machine let out a high-pitched buzz.

"This is the lowest strain level," she explained, as she usually did whenever he was around for one of her experiments, "if it tests well on this one—which it had better, with all the work I've put into it—I'll crank it up a little, and so on…you know the story. We need to get to stress level twelve in order for this thing to be an eligible material."

He marginally understood the explanations, as usual.

"Did any of the materials make that stress level?"

She gave him a long look, as though pondering whether or not to answer the question, then finally nodded.

"Actually…one of them did."

Chewing on her lower lip, she pulled the lever back to its original position, and the machine stopped hissing. With a sigh, she leaned her back against it, giving her son another meditative glance. Tilting his head ever so slightly, Daniel pulled the closest chair and sat, arching his eyebrows in obvious puzzlement. Silently, he watched as his mother took a deep breath, bracing herself to speak.

"I've been wondering whether or not to tell you this." She stopped for another second, then nodded as though encouraging herself. "Well, here goes. Remember the engraved piece you brought back from Egypt?"

He frowned slightly.

"You mean, the one I asked you to analyze, because I couldn't recognize the metal? What's that got to d—" His eyes suddenly widened as he realized what she was saying. "Wait…you mean that it—the piece—the metal…?"

"Took a twenty-four stress level...with barely a scratch."

For a long moment, Daniel could not speak, as his mind frantically processed the implications of her words. The inscribed piece of metal he had found investigating the pyramids in Egypt was more resistant than any of the metal alloys his mother and her team had been able to create. Oma watched him with understanding, knowing perfectly well what her discovery meant to him. Quietly, she turned back to the machine, activating it once more. Finally, one long minute after she had given him the news, Daniel spoke again.

"You…you have to tell them! This proves that my theory is correct! I'll finally get the support for my thesis! They won't be able to refuse this—"

"Won't they?" she quietly questioned.

He seemed unable to comprehend her for a second, then shook his head with vehemence.

"No! No, of course not! Who can ignore something like that under their very eyes? You have the proof, proof that that metal didn't come from Earth! And I found in at Gizah! We have to tell them!"

She thoughtfully bit her upper lip, crossing her arm with a long sigh.

"Look, Daniel…I'm not saying you're not right. I know you are…but neither your word nor mine have a lot of weight right now…curse of the enlightened minds I'm afraid," she chuckled in an attempt to chase the bitter disappointment from his face. "Anything we infer from that piece of metal…it won't be believed. I have another suggestion."

"What?" he asked listlessly.

"I'll try to reverse engineer it…see if I can get a more significant quantity. I'll use it for the project. They can easily overlook a piece of inscribed metal about the size of your hand, but not a whole—"

"But it could take months to finish it! Years!" His face got slightly redder, as it usually did when he was angry. "Think how much could be researched, investigated in that time, if only they'd assign more teams to Egypt, think what could be discovered there!"

She placed a soothing hand on his arm.

"I know, dear…but I don't think anyone will listen to us now."

For another long moment, none of them said anything. Finally, Daniel sighed in defeat.

"Fine. You try your way. I'll try mine…I'll write more papers, offer more lectures…" He looked towards the huge machine that still buzzed in the background. "Do you think you can replicate the metal?"

"Let's find out, shall we?" Oma pulled the lever, activating a cooling mechanism before she went to retrieve the alloy from the machine. Holding it up for him to see, she gave an encouraging smile. "Bit thinner…melted somewhat…but it's definitely a step ahead. Give me a few weeks…I'll get it to work."

He smiled at her, feeling slightly more optimistic.

"I know you will."

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A few weeks later…

A shiver seemed to run through the crowded street cutting through the university campus, as the stately Hathon made her way down, drawing admiring and craving looks from men as well as women. She greeted them with a pleasant smile, relishing the well-deserved attention, but did not dignify a single person with a second glance. They were all little, expandable and inconsequential, and none of them had any purpose except, naturally, to admire and envy her, and deservedly so. Her chosen one was not there, but she was on her way to getting him, and a strange kind of excitement ran through her at the thought of finally getting what she had chased after for so long. A man intelligent, attractive and profound, which was no more that the least someone of her beauty could ask for.

"Oh boy…" The same chubby girl tailed her merrily. "Daniel's gonna get the surprise of his life, huh Hathon?"

"Oh yes…this is his lucky day," the red-haired woman smiled cryptically. She tightened her grip around the plastic file in her hand, gracing it with a satisfied glance.

Finally, she left the campus and came to the small house that Daniel and his crazy mother inhabited. Measuring the residence with a critical eye, she was content to realize no one would possibly choose to live there when she offered to share her own place—well, with Daniel, at least. The old witch could rot in that little box of a house. Finally, with one last look at the crowd of awed followers that had almost unconsciously tailed her, she rang the bell.

"Hathon…what a, eh, pleasant surprise…"

"Isn't it? Well," she murmured, slithering by him into the offensively small house, "I'm just full of surprises."

Daniel closed the door with a small roll of his eyes, and turned to watch Hathon give herself an approving glance in the tall mirror in his hall. Stretching the limits of acceptable social behavior, he decided not to ask her to sit, not to offer a drink, not to ask what brought her there…indeed, if he thought it would have made a difference, he would not have talked to her at all. But of course, his reluctance did nothing to daunt her, as the woman sat—no, slid into an armchair, carefully undulating every curve of her body, much to his exasperation—and turned to him with a Cheshire grin.

"You know, Daniel…there isn't a man on this planet who would not want to be in your shoes. Well…this is the day. This is the day your dreams come true."

Leaning against the doorframe, he gave her an expressionless look.

"What do you know about my dreams, Hathon?"

"Plenty…" she leaned seductively towards him, and Daniel wondered how much stress the arm of the chair could take before snapping and sending her sprawling to the floor. "Picture this…every day…me and you, alone…you massaging me with hot scented oil in the Jacuzzi…" She played idly with the bulky locket around her neck, waving it in front of her generous cleavage. "Look at me, Daniel, and tell me that you have never craved this."

"The locket?" he asked blankly.

"Its wearer," she purred back.

"Well, actually, judging by shape and design, that type of locket was originally worn by the eunuch guards buried alive with their dead female ruler in some ancient societies. So, erm, no."

She stood, walking up to him with a slight swagger.

"And you could be the one waiting behind the scenes whenever I win a beauty contest…having what all other men can only watch and admire from a distance…"

"Uhm…imagine that," he deadpanned.

She opened the file in her hand to reveal a bunch of official-looking papers, and shoved them in his face with a smug smile.

"Here is a contract ready for you to sign, naming you my personal assistant…you won't have to hide in that murky library anymore, or ever set foot into that laboratory…"

"Hm, ah, that's very, erm, tempting, but you see, I'm pursuing a doctorate…"

"Ah, yes…" she flipped a few pages, shoving the file in his face again. "Here is your precious degree…I wasn't too sure what to write down there…so I just left it blank for you to complete…after all, my beloved," and the way she hissed the word made his hairs stand on end, "need be an educated man…"

"Hathon, this is a blatant fake!"

"Mmm…it's signed by all the right people," she murmured, putting her arms around his neck and applying a small pressure to bring their faces closer. "I know just how you can show me your gratitude…"

He somehow managed to wriggle out of her grasp, and almost raced to the front door, opening it with a gesture more violent than he'd intended. He actually had to go down the front steps to get her to follow him, then swiftly maneuvered so that he'd be back on the right side of the door and Hathon back outside, on the stone steps. He turned to her with a half-perplexed, perfunctory smile.

"Ah, you're very kind, I'm, uh, overwhelmed, but really, I don't deserve you."

And he shut the door without a second thought.

Thanks to everyone who sent me their thoughts on the previous chapter! I loved hearing from you, still do, so go ahead and share your comments :) all feedback is welcome!

SC