Chapter 16

He would only be able to double back briefly. He waited for the perfect opportunity. When Dr. Fergus turned to discuss the meaning of the ceremonial hieroglyphics with a large, rather brutish-looking colleague, the king realized his chance had come. He silently stole back towards the bustling hall, studiously not flinching at the crunch of the antiquities. There! The corner was sticking out so noticeably, he couldn't understand how no one else saw it. Maybe it was part of its magic… Regardless, his tablet was poking out of the crate, beckoning towards him. Almost there…

CRASH.

He froze. He was undone.

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT THESE THINGS? THEY'RE ARTIFACTS, NOT PING PONGS!" Fredrick's features had lost their friendly glow and erupted into magma. Fortunately, however, his rage was not directed at the pharaoh. "STEP AWAY FROM THE BOX, YOU INCOMPETENT-"

"Now now, Dr. Fredricks, surely this was an innocent lapse into clumsiness? I share your admiration for these relics in ways you cannot fathom, but I must ask you to calm yourself. You're frightening my assistant." For emphasis, Fergus came up to Ahkmenrah and hugged an arm around his shoulder. The pharaoh stiffened automatically, though he knew it was a comforting gesture. Set was against him tonight, for he'd missed his opportunity with the tablet.

Fredricks deflated slightly, yet kept up his glaring contest with his employee until everyone else looked away out of embarrassment.

At this moment, Fergus seemed to notice the golden item behind them for the first time. "Ah yes, the legendary Tablet of Ahkmenrah. Amazing find!"

Fredrick's mood brightened to rival Ra's rays. "I know, can you believe it? The credit's not mine, though, it belongs to my son."

"Remarkable lad to have discovered it!"

The archaeologist chuckled. "Don't tell him I said this, but it's kind of a funny story. See, he didn't go purposefully searching for it; he actually just wandered off, like youngsters do. And he fell right into the tomb! Damn near gave me a heart attack when I couldn't find him."

"Thank the Lord he was all right," Fergus murmured, but Ahkmenrah noticed he had eyes only for his tablet. "So remind me, what's the remarkable story behind it?"

"That's something we're trying to piece together. You see, it's easy to find any number of legends about the tablet, but impossible by comparison to ruffle out the facts. All we can say concretely is it was presented to the young Ahkmenrah on his sixteenth birthday by his father, then pharaoh Merenkhaure," here the pharaoh emitted a bitter chuckle, which he disguised as a cough when several startled, curious eyes swiveled in his direction, "two years before he ascended the throne. Anything else so far is pure speculation."

"Oh, but surely you must know something about its purpose?"

Fredricks shook his head. "The only thing we're certain of right now is when it was first mentioned in the records and that it faded into obscurity soon after Kahmunrah's death."

So his brother HAD utilized it somehow. Though he knew better, he still hoped he'd learned to use it wisely, not merely to benefit himself. Considering Fredricks hadn't mentioned any famines or disasters attributed to the Tablet, Kahmunrah must not have abused its power too badly. It unnerved him how, after so many years, he felt his brother may have been capable of misusing it in this way. When had he begun to regard Kahmunrah so poorly?

"Sure, there are plenty of powers attributed to it, from regeneration to healing to resurrection, but-" Another chuckle, this one not from the king, interrupted him. "Something amusing to you?" Gaping spotlights of eyes swiveled toward the unfortunate fellow who'd guffawed.

The worker met his gaze squarely. "Well, obviously the last one is pure fiction, since the mummies are still dead, right?" He laughed again, but clearly without support.

Fredricks and Fergus narrowed their eyes. "Don't mock the dead, Amose." The professor thundered. "Don't mock legends, either. Who knows? You might be at the receiving end of the 7 Deadly Plagues of Egypt." Nobody laughed after that. One of the tomb's occupants could've saved everyone some anxiety by assuring that no curses had been placed on their final resting place.

Ahkmenrah stayed near Dr. Fergus, noticing how intimately the professor's eyes traced over the symbols, like a lover reunited with his fiance. He understood- the tablet had amassed considerable attention even during his lifetime. "Remarkable," Fergus murmured. "A civilization's crowning achievement, and roughly the size of a large encyclopedia. Have you uncovered anything surprising about it yet?"

"We've barely had a chance to inspect it at all, we were too focused on saving it from the sandstorm. Funny thing, that storm just popped up out of nowhere… Anyway, I promise you'll be the first to get a good look at it!"

"I always knew I could rely on you, my good man!" Both gentlemen shook hands, sealing the agreement. Little did Fredricks know the Tablet's owner was standing less than a foot away from him.

All the pharaoh knew was that he'd failed to recover his heirloom. No parents, no tablet, no home. All he wanted was Fergus to leave momentarily! He didn't trust it to these buffoons. Yet of course, Fergus remained beside him for the rest of the tour. He felt unexpectantly exhausted when Fergus led him back to the office.

"Long evening, eh pharaoh?" The professor regarded him with what Ahkmenrah supposed was concern. "I suppose it must be difficult knowing one's family is far away." The pharaoh busied himself by staring at his writing papers, wishing there was time to resume his lessons. "I understand, believe me I do. My own daughter lives in the state of Minnesota! You probably don't know what that means… My point is, if anyone comprehends what you're going through, it's me. Anytime you need a chat, I'm your man- once you've learned my language, of course." He chuckled. "Well, best to retire. You might not need sleep anymore, but I certainly do! I bid you adieu!" However, before passing the threshold, he turned to his tenant once more. "I noticed your little attempt with the tablet. I know it must be hard to understand this, but trust me, your relic is in competent hands. Safe, in other words. I'm sorry, I know it must be difficult for you to relinquish it like this, but it's for the best. I'm sure when the time is appropriate, you two will be reunited. Goodnight!"

The pharaoh failed to respond before Fergus gently clicked the door shut. Just as well- he felt far too sheepish to do more than make a weak, unsuccessful effort to roll over in his grave.

"I flipped you again! What's gotten into you?"

Ahkmenrah blinked to find himself facing Teddy's freshly polished boots. "Indeed, you bested me once more."

The president huffed. "Undoubtedly I'd be more pleased with myself if I suspected the cause of my victories was because of my improvement, but knowing your skills, I doubt this. What were you thinking about this time? Clearly not our training."

Ahkmenrah rubbed his temples. He'd truly been looking forward to this training session- it had been the first one he and Teddy had enjoyed in over two months. At long last, McKenzie had come up with a plausible idea: gradually, the pharaoh should return to his old routine. Eventually, she planned on adding a new activity each week, depending on her patient's progress. Already, Ahkmenrah felt more comfortable- this was better therapy than all his previous sessions combined! That is, unless he spaced out.

"Merely marveling at your improvement," he replied quickly.

The president snorted.

"Truly, you have progressed very well!"

"Yes, well, thank you. Though I wish I'd truly earned your praise. Get your head out of the heavens, boy!"

"I apologize, Teddy. It will not happen again."

"All right, let us resume."

This time, Ahkmenrah maintained his awareness throughout the lesson, grateful for this much. He hadn't been lying- his friend had improved his stances, though Teddy would never admit it due to modesty. Though Ahkmenrah had confessed he'd been suffering nightmares, he'd refused to divulge the flashbacks to anyone but McKenzie- and he never gave her details. He only talked about them because he suspected McKenzie would hound him until he caved in to her curiosity. So the visions were not enough- now he must worry about balcking out during his waking hours too? What had he done to anger the gods?! For surely they were angry, since they'd done nothing to alleviate his suffering.

He was the unluckiest pharaoh ever to have existed.