Author's Note:
Please pardon my somewhat Orientalist portrayal of Cairo in the 1930s. Khaliq's driving is a joke. My friends often describe my driving that way, and I thought to immortalise their impressions in Khaliq. I also poke a bit of fun at academia.
No such thing as 'The boundaries of imagination' in this case.
Thank you so much for sticking with this story and do please keep the reviews coming!
Chapter 9
Alexandra Khalan really did not know what had happened. They had shooed her out of Evy's office when things were starting to get exciting, not knowing that it was the very same reason that they had done so, and now she thanked heavens that she had not started unpacking yet.
The O'Connells seemed to communicate more with looks than with words, she noticed wryly; how could she mistake those exchanged glances and little touches they gave each other? Even throughout her introduction, they threw each other glances; she did see those from the corner of her eyes, probably wondering thought if she was a wayward academic, until they reassured her otherwise.
At exactly seven thirty, they promised her, that someone would bring them to the O'Connell residence - the absolutely most trustworthy and reliable transport service that Egypt can offer. This certain 'transport service' they did describe so fondly about, well, Alex decided to keep her mouth shut until she saw it for herself.
Seven-twenty according to her watch.
She had showered once again and dressed, in casual pants and shirt, trunks lying about her, sitting in the excuse of a lobby in the hotel, visions of chauffeur-driven cars manufactured in Europe and red carpets of the silver screen materialising in her mind.
She looked down at the floorboards for a second, and a pair of black booted feet filled vision. She frowned and contemplated looking up, but not before a voice filled her ears.
"Dr. Khalan," a rough voice said in greeting.
Standing before her was a man like and not like Ardeth Bay. Same tattoos on the face, same black turban and imposing garb of all black, with criss-crossing straps across his torso, held in check by a belt that supported a bewildering number of weapons -scimitars, daggers and guns? Whatever it was, the man was a walking ammunition factory.
His voice was rougher and weathered, as was his face and his hair was long, very long, waist-length in fact, so much so that it made her bite her lip before she impulsively screamed 'savage'.
"I am Khaliq, Ardeth Bay's deputy commander - you have met Ardeth Bay this morning, did you not -I am to escort you to the O'Connell residence." His English was also impeccable, not unlike Ardeth's, but more Arabic-accented.
She nodded, and gestured to the trunks surrounding her.
"Please, do be careful. There are precious and rare books in there."
"Books? Instead of clothes that women find so appealing?" He laughed.
Khaliq took her trunks into his large hands and escorted her to a...car?
The Medjai had cars?
The day was becoming stranger by the hour; she now only hoped to be able to sleep well at night when the hours crawled to a close as she struggled with the rest of her boxes.
Khaliq saw her mystified look, offered her an explanation that might calm her.
"The Medjai and the O'Connells have a special relationship with each other, Dr. Khalan, because of the unusual circumstances that our leader found himself in a decade ago. I think you are about to learn that very soon. The car that you travel in," Khaliq smiled in satisfaction, "belongs to Rick O'Connell. You may be rest assured that I have the knowledge of operating this vehicle and that it has been in no way stolen."
"Any friend of the O'Connells will be the Medjai's too." He smiled readily, exposing crooked but white teeth.
Did the Medjai observe a hygiene regime too?
Alex shook off stray thoughts and nodded mutely. She stepped into the car, attempted to get comfortable amidst her trunks, but was barred from doing so because of Khaliq's driving.
A smarmy Cairo that bustled fully with life greeted her - multitude of lights that magically appeared only in the evening leaped at her senses, and the yells of fruit and cloth peddlers filled her ears; the women walked with veiled faces, some accompanied by foreign men, others by the natives. There were belly dancers of a sort, clothed in sheer fabrics and silks, a small circus of sort and its cheery music was performing in another corner -she could not see clearly as the car moved in the opposite direction, blurring the scores of people, the colours of cloth and the lights into a sparkling kaleidoscope. It was enthralling, all that she saw, and Khaliq's increasing speed added exhilaration, headiness.
She would never lose her thrill for travelling. But a woman who moved and wandered about too much was frowned upon, wasn't it? Independence, the feeding of the intellect and solitude, the strange combination that she seemed destined and partially prepared for.
They sped through the varying widths of the dirt lanes of Cairo, with the violet red sunset on their backs and the open top of the car that allowed the hot remnants of the day-siroccos blow fiercely over their heads. The open top, as she was discovering, also proved very convenient for Khaliq to raise his head, wave a hand frantically out and swear at those who stood in his way. His hard right/left turns were seriously starting to trouble her and for a frightening second she feared they might not reach their destination.
"I learned how to drive a car in Greece a year ago," he grinned and yelled above the wind. "Very effective way. Good if the Medjai need speed. Our commander approves, although he prefers traditional methods of transport, like horses and camels. I offered to teach him someday and he said -'it will be a very far someday when I learn from you.'"
That simply made her put more faith in his driving skills, did it not?
"From the way you drive I don't think I will die of any natural cause. I suppose if you were any more cruel, it would be easier to plod all of them down." She muttered dryly under her breath.
In response, Khaliq turned left, right, drove straight, took another right and an immediate left, or at least that was what she thought as he raced past every junction. How was the blind-folded man in A Thousand and One Nights every able to recall the arduous way that his captives led him through?
The maze of streets was downright confusing - no parallel lanes to orientate one; instead a peculiar jumble of roads that appeared should anyone see fit to build, either through official government development or simply through the clearing of land by the frequent trampling herd and horses. The latter applied to the O'Connells' residence.
Were academics really impoverished?
So the O'Connells lived in the suburbs outside Cairo; on the periphery of the old town, barely a hundred steps from an old wall that enclose a whole multitude of houses stretching over two hills. This wall and its niche seemed to always have been meant for the emaciated body of a squatting beggar, still carrying the primordial memory of pre-existence, the scent of the exotic and unknown. She noticed, that in this quite obscure, quiet and isolated narrow corner the lane narrowed suddenly, leading to an apparent dead end, but had in fact a small right turning, a small passageway wide enough for two people to run through. Two magnificent horses were tied to a post, a midnight black and pure white Arabian stallions, huge and sleek.
Khaliq brought the car to a halt in front of the nondescript building and carried her trunks out, while she sat in the car for a minute longer, regaining her centre, willing the interlocked images of brown desert, the sunset and the effervescent lights to disappear from her crossed eyes.
Evy O'Connell ran and opened the door in the most exuberant manner Alex had ever seen and allowed Khaliq to carry the trunks into the guest room.
"I hope the drive through Cairo was not too harrowing?" She asked mischievously; she had an idea how Khaliq handled her husband's car and it was only after an inordinate amount of coaxing that he allowed Khaliq to pick Alex up.
Alex just shook her head and raised her arms in surrender.
"Come, let's make you comfortable before we begin dinner. Ardeth is already here."
Ardeth?
Alex fought the urge to cringe and squirm at that name; knowing that his presence made it all appear more farcical, knowing from the start that he was irreconcilably a part of all this, what it may all mean.
"Please, do not worry yourself about it. I am clean, at least before Khaliq stomped the city, although I suspect I might need another bath later, but for now, we may begin." She said with much difficulty.
"Then, let us do sit down."
The inside of the O'Connell smallish residence was far from impoverished; boxes that were shipped from England were half opened, their contents yanked out in great excitement to decorate a new home with all that was familiar.
The first level of the living area was joined to the dining area by a walkway of cold marble, and opened out to a patio -the a short flight of stairs on the left partially exposed its second level, from which another flight of stairs, much longer this time, led to the bedrooms on the uppermost floors. There might even be a balcony hidden from prying eyes, she thought.
It was the most unusual house that she had ever laid her eyes on.
Carvings of the cartouches of Sneferu, Menkaura, Menes already lined one wall -the O'Connells apparently had the entire collection of the Old Kingdom Pyramid builders and from the looks of it, were preparing to unpack more carvings of the 18th Dynasty rulers when she arrived. Perhaps there might even be a stray sarcophagus in there, she rolled her eyes.
Their house was an eclectic mix of modern and ancient; the dining area was devoid of chairs; the off-white walls that surrounded it were deliberately left rough; and the floor was instead lined with thick Persian carpets and Egyptian mats; in the corners were slender and smooth earthen vases that held miniature fronds and papyrus reeds, with enormous cushions with gold and silver tassels that must have surely once lined a sultan's abode were liberally scattered around. Two low tables, of a rich mahogany were placed side by side as Evy brought out their dinner.
Evy interrupted her fascinated observation of the house.
"Like it well? We are still in the midst of settling down," Evy caught sight of Ardeth and beckoned him to the dining room.
He spoke in low tones to his second in command, who then hurried out of the O'Connell residence with a goodbye, riding off into the night as swift as the wind.
Alex turned briefly to acknowledge Ardeth, who once again inclined his head to her, keeping his hands behind his back and sat down on a cushion. Rick and Evy took their places, smiling in anticipation and motioned for them to start eating.
Alex dragged a colossal, deep purple cushion and placed it next to Ardeth, ignoring the short piercing stare of his.
"Dr Khalan, I mean, Alex, we are so sorry to put you through all of this," Rick began. "But we think it is of utmost importance that you tell Ardeth what you've told us this afternoon. You see, he is the leader of the Medjai, a secret society that existed since Egypt of the Pharaohs and now swear to protect their secrets in their graves."
Ardeth turned to Alex.
"Dr Khalan," He started.
"Please, just Alex," She interrupted him. "The Commander of the Medjai?" She asked skeptically.
"Yes, that is so."
"We have told him your purpose in coming to retrieve the scrolls," Evy put in, "and we are sorry to have interrupted you when you were telling us about your sources. Please do go on. We only wanted you to be in a safer place when you revealed everything."
Perplexed, Alex eyed the solemn trio with great bewilderment.
How was the O'Connell residence at an obscure corner a safer place than the open Cairo Museum? If anything, they seemed more likely to be ambushed here.
"Well, you did manage to come to the conclusion yourselves that Ramses probably erased the scrolls from history, and massacred those who tried to record the Plagues and the Passover."
The trio nodded.
"The only thing that I was trying to tell you was that Ramses had seen the power of a legendary city of Hamunaptra himself under his father's rule. What other better place than to execute the scribes there and to throw the scrolls in with them."
Rick, Evy and Ardeth grew pale at the mention of the City of the dead; it seemed as if Hamunaptra was never far away from their lives; it found its re-entry in so many different forms.
Evy was unprepared for the emotional onslaught that overtook her; Rick felt a splitting headache returning in addition to the slight coughs that had started to afflict him. Additional thoughts of the near indestructible dust priests that Imhotep had conjured out of his bag of tricks now made him want to collapse in chagrin.
"Whoa, you lost me there. If Ramses wanted to scrolls destroyed and threw them into Hamunaptra, why would they still exist then? Shouldn't they be destroyed also?" Rick questioned.
"I never said the scrolls were destroyed, did I?"
"That's right, Rick. She never did." Evy pointed out.
"The execution of the scribes, according to Ar'siuqqa, was made public. It was meant to be a spectacle for all to see, so that they were reminded of Egypt's strength and might, or rather, dogmatism on those who went against royal rule. The scrolls that were thrown in with them in Hamunaptra, but were not destroyed. Ar'siuqqa did not mention clearly what happened to them; he only said that Egypt then was rotten to the core. And the root word for 'rotten' in Akkadian is 'Dï'ïtim', which actually means 'poison'."
"What are you saying, Dr. Khalan?" Ardeth put in.
She took a deep breath, "My theory is that the scrolls were painted with poison of the deadliest kind found in the Egypt at that time. Anyone who tried to recover it would touch the lethal substance and drop dead like a fly."
Three faces with brows furrowed in concentration greeted her.
"It is not ungrounded," she argued defensively, "Poisoning was -and still is, a very effective means of deterrence. And the lethalness of poison may last for thousands of years if undisturbed."
"Hamunaptra," Ardeth said slowly, "did exist. But it no longer does." He had said that truthfully; the last he saw of it was the massive excavation that the reincarnation of Anck-su-namun and the curator of the British Museum had initiated and he hoped to Allah that their excavations had left it a wasteland.
"He is right, Doc, Hamunaptra is nothing but grains in the ground and broken pillars. I'm afraid that your scholarship is for naught." Rick's stoic face had revealed nothing and Evy looked troubled as he said those words.
"I am answerable to the Cairo Museum, which in turn as ties to Bembridge, Rick. Ardeth," Evy turned pleadingly to him, "Do you see our positions?"
"Honey, can't you tell them it is not feasible in the least? Well, so they made a mistake in bringing a Bembridge scholar here."
"Pardon me, sir," Alex started rigidly, "I think I made a mistake in agreeing to stay with you. Please forgive my intrusion." She made a move to get up, but was stopped by the hand of the Egyptian's on her forearm -
And saw two lovers embracing in her mind's eye -one fair-haired, closely cropped, the other, a short-haired woman; both lying down on an elaborate bed, and there was gold all over; but it was also blood, screams and a sharp silvery knife that drew the blood -
Ardeth had removed his hand from hers, and they looked uncertainly at each other, each wanting to say more, but not daring, each wanting to apologise, but not sure what was there to apologise for.
"No, please," Evy interrupted then, glaring at Rick. "You are our guest, my husband forgot himself a while ago. You see, Ardeth and uswe have been through a couple of,"she coughed delicately, "roughsituations before and so we are all wary at the first mention of explorations."
Rick was seething, she knew, but there was also something forbidden about Hamunaptra which she wanted to taste, although they had nearly lost their lives there.
"I know you wish to go to Hamunaptra, despite all that we have said. But it is getting late and your nerves are probably more frayed than ours, by now. Let us talk tomorrow again, shall we?" Evy's firm voice drew no argument from anyone. "I will show you to your room."
For a tense moment, no one said anything, until Alex nodded, her face now cast in stone, softening at Evy's attempt to chastise her husband for his uncharacteristic outburst.
Perhaps they all needed a good night's rest before everyone thought clearly.
