CHAPTER FOUR

Egyptian Airspace, between Cairo and Alexandria, September 16, 1940, afternoon



The plane engines hummed with power. Ardeth was seated in the rear seat, his abayor filled with water (although Martin kept referring to the abayor as a canteen), a sack of onions and a large chunk of goat cheese wrapped in linen cloth were underneath his seat. The water and cheese were for eating; the onions helped to keep away the scorpions and were also tasty boiled in water.

A feeling of doom had settled in Ardeth's soul. He'd received Rick's telegram and was grateful that Nuit was protecting his friends. But the accounts of the destruction of London by the Luftwaffe was horrifying.

Ardeth felt under his robes to the leather pouch secured around his waist. The Bracelet was there, its power restored, for Martin had had the Bracelet repaired and emeralds from Gebel Umm Kabu in the Eastern Sahara gleamed in their settings. Martin had performed an elaborate ceremony transferring the Bracelet from his possession to Ardeth's, and Ardeth's soul felt a thrumming from the restored Bracelet.

"Here we go!" Martin shouted back over his shoulder. Ardeth merely smiled at Martin and adjusted his aviator goggles. He had to admit to himself, albeit secretly, that he enjoyed flying.

Eight years ago when he and the O'Connell's were battling the High Priest Imhotep, Seti I's Imhotep, Ardeth had travelled across the desert hanging onto the wing of a plane. He had been grateful none of the Medjai were there to see the expression on his face, which he had rather suspected showed a goofy expression. Despite the reason for the trip, he had enjoyed and had been exhilarated with flying through the air.

The feeling was no different when the plane he was now seated in lifted into the air. Ardeth felt the rush of excitement when the plane was fully airborne and headed towards Alexandria.

Ardeth was in favor of anything which lifted the feeling of doom from his soul.

A movement flickered in the corner of Ardeth's eye. He turned his head to the right, and saw a huge wall of sand bearing down upon the small plane.

"Noooooooooooo!" Martin's voice cried out but the sound was choked off by the blowing sand and the fierce wind which accompanied the khamsin.

"You will not reach your destination, Ardeth Bey," came a deep, gravelly male voice from the sand. "I am Set, and although my mother and the Gods of Egypt are protecting your friends, I have overpowered them in this very Egypt of ours. I am not fond of the Bracelet of Lostris nor of the spawn she begat. You and the Keeper of the Bracelet will be deposited in the vast Saharan, far from any water source, and far from the nomadic tribes which wander the desert. Your souls will not reach the Afterlife for your bodies will mummify underneath the sands of the desert."

Mad laughter rang in Ardeth's ears as the plane was flipped over and over in the air. Ardeth hung onto the straps holding him in his seat. He hoped Martin was still in the plane and that he had the sense to hold onto the seat straps.

Ardeth felt the blood rushing to his head as the plane was suspended upside down and pushed faster than Ardeth had flown before, and he lost track of time.



Somewhere in the Sahara spanning North Africa, late afternoon, September 16, 1940...


Ardeth felt himself slowly falling. Falling to one's death wasn't so bad, he thought to himself as he saw the blue sky above him. Ra, Ardeth thought wildly as his back made contact with the sand.

"Poomph!" he involuntarily said. Ardeth lay on his back, his breath coming in ragged pants. He wondered how he could have fallen out of the plane if he was strapped in. Further, he wondered just how he could be alive if he'd fallen from the plane. Was this the Afterlife?

"You are safe," Nuit's voice, mingled with a male voice that was familiar, whispered, faint and weak, and Ardeth's soul rejoiced. "My dear little one," Nuit's melodious voice murmured as the voice faded out.

Gradually Ardeth's head cleared and he sat up, trying to see Martin.

Martin was sprawled on his back in a similar position. Ardeth crawled over to him. Martin was breathing and Ardeth breathed a sigh of relief.

Ardeth stood up and looked around for the plane. A short ways from the two men, the plane was on its side, destroyed. Ardeth walked over to the plane and crawled up the side. Reaching down under the rear seat, he pulled out the metal canteen of water he'd secured there. He reached under the seat again and pulled out the cheese and the small sack of onions.

His heart nearly stopped beating when he looked closely at the straps which had held him in the seat. There were no straps visible, only the shredded ends. The Dark One did his work thoroughly. Ardeth's face paled, and he involuntarily licked his lips. He wondered how far they'd fallen from the sky.

Ardeth climbed back down the side of the plane. He opened the canteen and took a small sip, swishing the water around his mouth to get rid of the sand. He spit the water and sand out, then took a larger sip that felt silky going down his parched throat.

He carried the canteen over to Martin. Groaning, Martin sat up and tried to speak. Ardeth handed him the canteen.

"Just a small sip to wash out your mouth," Ardeth cautioned as Martin took a sip from the canteen. Washing out his mouth, Martin next took a larger swallow.

"What the hell was that?" he asked Ardeth after swallowing. Martin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and put the cap back on the canteen. The canteen was their only source of water and Martin wasn't sure if the memories of his past life contained the knowledge of how to find water in the desert. He would have to trust Ardeth, and Ardeth's knowledge of finding water in the desert.

"That, my friend, was Set's doing," Ardeth replied.

"Hell of a way to re-introduce himself to me."

"Set was always a troublemaker," Ardeth commented.

"I seem to remember he was a troublemaker," Martin said.

"How did we...?"

"Nuit. And, I think Imhotep. Somehow they cushioned our fall. If they had not, well, you know."

Martin gulped. "Seti's Imhotep saved us?"

Ardeth shook his head. "No. Djoser's Imhotep: the architect of the Step Pyramid."

"Yes! Now I remember. Taita was a huge follower of the Great Imhotep. I thought Set was going to try and drown you," Martin finished.

"I think he is saving that for later," Ardeth said with a frown.

Ardeth turned and walked towards a high sand dune some ways away.

Ardeth looked back over his shoulder. "I will see where we are and find out if there's a way to get water."

Martin smiled sadly and nodded. Soon Ardeth's black clothed figure shrank into the distance. He sighed, and stood up and walked over to look at the remains of his downed plane.




Djeba, Age of Taurus, About 2630 BC, Temple of Nuit, just before midnight...


Salty sweat ran down the Grand Vizier Imhotep's face and dripped onto the stone floor. Using the mushroom was always dangerous, and the visions obtained with the use of the mushroom were exhausting.

Tonight was no exception. Imhotep had taken a personal interest in the Restorer of Ma'at, and he desperately wanted to ensure the safe future of Egypt. This was the reason why Imhotep found himself sitting cross legged in the temple night after night, eating the mushroom, and enduring its side effects: watery stools, stomach cramps, and sleeplessness.

In the Crossroads of Time, Imhotep had been both delighted and shocked at the future. Early in the second half of the Age of Pisces, new lands would be discovered across the vast ocean far to the west, but a blood borne sickness would well up in the glands of the human population and decimate the peoples to the north of the Great Green.

Last night, Imhotep had gained entrance to the Crossroads of Time and had made contact with Kysen, Ardeth's remote grandfather. He'd also made contact with the Priest Tefibi.

And although Imhotep's own future was shrouded, Imhotep had clearly seen the future of the Restorer of Ma'at.

He'd gathered his strength and with Nuit's power, helped the two men land safely on the sands of the Sahara--as near to a water source as Imhotep could place them, given Set's angry sandstorm.

"You are safe," he whispered aloud, and in his trance, he saw that Ardeth had heard him.

Tonight, Imhotep's main task was to gain entrance once again to the Crossroads of Time to find Taita and Lostris in the Afterlife. The Restorer of Ma'at would need Lostris' help in getting to the shores of the Great Green unscathed--and Imhotep was afraid that Set was planning the death of the Restorer of Ma'at and the Keeper of the Bracelet.

Imhotep breathed evenly, allowing his mind to empty, hoping he would be able to gain entry to the Crossroads of Time.

Because time was running out for the Restorer of Ma'at.