By the time they arrived in the town, the sun had inexplicably reappeared in the sky, as if its disappearance was nothing but a mirage caused by the desert heat.
"It was gone, wasn't it?" asked Truman, looking around for panicked civilians and apocalyptic fissures. Finding none he turned to the Doctor. "I feel like these people should be reacting more… frightened?"
"I agree," the Doctor stated. He walked up to a man carrying a basin of water. "Excuse me, sir. Notice anything unusual happening around these parts?"
The man looked at the Doctor. "None more than usual, sir. Been a bit cooler than usual, but the priests attribute that to a change of season. Winter I think they called it?" He walked away, precariously balancing his water with one hand.
"Why was he speaking English? Don't they have their own language here?" questioned Windsor. "Something's rotten in Denmark, Doctor, and I don't like it."
"Oh, relax Duke. It's the TARDIS's work. It's translating both our words and the local's words in order to make a beautiful gumbo stew of language. Really comes in handy when trying to talk down a Mongolian horde. Believe me, I know from experience. I do agree there's something happening here. What it is ain't exactly clear. Wait, that's Buffalo Springfield."
"Doctor, could you focus?" Truman asked, giving him a chastising look. The Doctor nodded vigorously and pointed to the palace a few yards away.
"Shall we poll the royalty then?" Truman and Windsor found themselves struggling to keep up with the Doctor, who was bounding towards the pharaoh's dwelling with youthful enthusiasm.
The gates were barred, but a quick flash of psychic paper gained them access. The trio found themselves in a room covered in gold. Windsor's greedy eyes cased the room for a bauble he could take back with him before falling on a rather disturbing sight.
"My god!" Windsor exclaimed. "They've written all over the walls! Who could have caused such vandalism? Looks like the youth of yesterday were the same breed of brats as the youth of today."
"Actually Windsor," Truman explained. "I think those are the hieroglyphics."
"Nonsense! Aren't those pictures?"
"TARDIS, Duke," the Doctor pointed out. "Although it looks like there's nothing unusual written in them. No signs of trouble, no mentions of a disappearing sun, nothing. However, I have deduced we are in the time of the pharaoh Khafra."
"Ah, yes! Khafra!" exclaimed Truman. "He commissioned the second pyramid to be built, and is the mastermind behind the Great Sphinx!"
"You have a vast knowledge, young man." The trio turned to find a regal individual standing in the doorway, surrounded on both sides by large guards. "My guards tell me that you have been granted access and are high priests. Are you here to charge me of heresy?"
"OH GREAT PHARAOH OF THE GOLDEN LAND OF EGYPT!" Truman bellowed before being stopped by the Doctor.
"No, don't do that, its embarrassing," he said quietly, as Truman sheepishly retreated. "Pharaoh, we are not here to charge you with any violations. More of a checkup really. Seeing if Ra's been kind, crops growing, all that jazz."
"Our harvest is plentiful and our fruits aplenty. We haven't had this bountiful a season in centuries," the pharaoh explained, giving his guests an odd look. "I do not like being questioned about the affairs of my people. If that is all you require I suggest you leave."
"But we…" Windsor began.
"Certainly, your majesty!" complied the Doctor, dragging his two companions by the scruff of their necks out the door.
"But Doctor," said Truman. "We haven't found anything out!"
"Exactly!" cried the Doctor. "Had good ol' pharaoh Khafra told us more than he has already told us, then he would have nothing to hide. However, since he told us the bare minimum of information needed by high priests in their rituals and inspections, he obviously has more information than he is letting on." He looked excitedly at his companions.
"I'm confused," said Truman.
"As you should be!" replied the Doctor. He quickly turned on the balls of his feet and headed towards the Great Sphinx in the distance.
"What makes you think this dog person statue has the answers we need?" Windsor questioned.
"Well he got defensive when Truman mentioned it, didn't he?" pointed out the Doctor. "He asked us if he was being charged with heresy. Therefore something against the gods must be happening near or in the Sphinx."
"Doctor, are there such things as gods?" Truman hazarded.
"Yes and no," the Doctor replied. "Depends on who you are and what your definition is. For instance, the Greek gods, Zeus, Hermes, Athena and that lot: totally real. However, they are actually shapeshifting Zygons. And boy, were they not happy when I found them out. So if you consider Zygons gods, then absolutely their gods." He stopped and turned, causing Truman to run into him. "Truman, there are powers in this universe that may dwarf you and cause you doubt. I implore you not to let your beliefs or lack thereof impair your judgment on what is real and what isn't. You have a sharp mind that is not easily swayed, so I have hope that you'll come out of this alright." He gave Truman a pat on the back, little realizing how much more confusion he had caused his muddled companion.
The Great Sphinx towered before them, and Truman was in his glory.
"I can't believe I actually get to see the nose of the Great Sphinx!" Truman yelled, immediately forgetting all the confusion that had bogged him down before.
"Seems weirder with it, if you ask me. How did that nose disappear?" Windsor asked as he tried to hide his amazement.
"No one knows," the Doctor said. "Just up and fell off, possibly worn away. Your guess is as good as mine." His sonic firmly in his right hand, the Doctor began probing the surface of the monument, leaving Truman and Windsor to ponder over the rhinoplasty the Sphinx had received over the years.
"AHA! An entrance!" The Doctor sprinted towards a shallow indent in the Sphinx and pressed firmly. The door gave way and with a devilish grin entered the precipice. Windsor and Truman reluctantly followed.
It was dark, as Truman had guessed, but not the pitch blackness that one would associate with old Egyptian tombs. Instead there seemed to be an ambient light that had no explanation; it was just there. A quick look around revealed some sort of entrance chamber with nothing but writings on the wall.
"Osiris will raise them. The Stained Cloth will blind them. Ra shall blink," Windsor read aloud. "What the hell does that mean?"
"Well we've already seen Ra blink," Truman reasoned. "Ra was the sun god the Egyptians worshipped, and we saw the sun completely disappear. And this stained cloth they mention may have something to do with why no one is remembering or acknowledging it."
"What about this 'raising'?" Windsor asked with a slight hint of worry to his words.
"Did anyone notice the light got a bit darker?" Truman asked, but no one was paying attention.
"I think I've figured the rasing part out," the Doctor said as he backed away from something approaching him. Windsor whirled around and screamed as a mummy approached the trio with its hands reaching out.