The Pyramid of Doom_A Novel Page 10

  “So all the pharaohs’ treasures that have ever been found,” said Nina thoughtfully, “would still be less valuable than whatever’s in Osiris’s tomb. And considering how incredible some of the finds from other tombs have been …”

  Eddie stood back. “There’s your motive, then. Money. Lots and lots of money.” He indicated the screen. “Go on the Internet—I think we should have a gander at this Osirian Temple thing.”

  Macy opened the browser, typing in the address of the Qexia search engine. “Not using Google?” Eddie asked.

  “This is cooler,” she said, entering a search string for the Osirian Temple. A “cloud” of results appeared, the largest at the center. She clicked it, taking them to the cult’s home page. A heavily airbrushed portrait of Khalid Osir, standing before what appeared to be a large pyramid of black glass, smiled at them.

  “That’s the guy I saw the other day,” said Eddie. “Used to be a big movie star in Egypt.”

  Nina read his canned biography. “And then he got religion. Though I guess his ego was too big for him to just join someone else’s—he had to start his own.” According to the bio, Osir had founded the Osirian Temple fifteen years previously, the organization now headquartered in Switzerland and established in more than fifty countries.

  “Looks like it’s a nice little earner,” Eddie said as Macy clicked through to other pages. As much of the site seemed to be devoted to selling merchandise as to explaining the cult’s beliefs.

  Macy snorted sarcastically at one section of the latter. “What? That’s not even right! Osiris wasn’t immortal while he was still alive—that didn’t happen until he entered the Underworld.”

  Nina scanned the rest of the text. “Huh. For a cult that’s based around the myths of Osiris, it doesn’t seem too interested in the accepted versions of those myths. It’s like this guy Osir’s deliberately ignoring anything that conflicts with what he’s trying to say.”

  “Trying to sell, you mean,” Eddie corrected as another page opened, more catalog than catechism. “Look at all this stuff. Diets, exercise plans, vitamins … it’ll all help you live longer, yeah, but he slaps a picture of a pyramid on it and charges five times more than you’d pay at the supermarket, and makes you listen to a load of religious twaddle while you’re doing it.”

  “It’s not just twaddle, Eddie,” Nina chided. “People might not believe in it now, but it was the basis of a civilization that lasted for almost three thousand years.”

  “Maybe, but this Osir bloke’s making it up as he goes. So, typical cult, really.”

  Macy had meanwhile found another page: the Osirian Temple’s leaders. Osir took pride of place at the top, but below his entry was a smaller black-and-white picture of another man with similar features.

  “Sebak Shaban,” Nina read. “They look a lot alike—maybe they’re brothers.”

  “Yeah, I thought that,” Eddie said. “He’s the bloke with the scar. How come they’ve got different surnames?”

  “Duh,” Macy said offhandedly. “Osiris, Osir? It’s like a stage name.” Eddie glared at her, but she didn’t notice. “And yeah, total Photoshop.” The picture of Shaban very much favored the left side of his face, but the part of his upper lip that in real life was scarred appeared completely normal.

  Nina leaned back. “And you’re absolutely sure he was in charge of whatever was going on at the Sphinx?”

  “Totally. It was him.”

  “And the guy from last night works for him?” Macy nodded. “Okay, so they really, really want to make sure you don’t tell anyone about it.”

  “So what do we do?” Macy asked.

  “We tell someone about it,” said Eddie. “Duh.”

  She pouted. “I tried. Nobody in Egypt would listen to me. When I phoned Dr. Berkeley, he just told me to turn myself in to the police.”

  “How did you get out of Egypt if the police were looking for you?” asked Nina.

  “Through Jordan. I heard him”—she indicated Shaban—“tell his men to watch the airports, so I couldn’t get out that way. But I had my passport and some money with me, so once I got back into Cairo I took a bus to this little town out on the east coast, and persuaded some guy to take me across to Jordan in his boat. Then I got another bus to Amman, flew back to America, and here I am!”

  Macy was more resourceful than she seemed, Nina decided. Even Eddie appeared mildly impressed that she had evaded the authorities. “And then, out of everybody you could have turned to, you came to me.”

  “Because I knew you could help. And you did. If you hadn’t saved me, that guy would have killed me. So, thanks!”

  “Not a problem,” Nina replied. Eddie grunted sarcastically. “But now you’re safe—”

  “I hope,” Macy cut in, glancing warily at the door.

  “I think that after last night’s little debacle, the bad guys will be trying to get as far away from New York as possible. Since we’ve got the pictures, we can tell the IHA what’s happened.” She gave Eddie an uncertain look. “That’s assuming Maureen Rothschild will even speak to me.”

  Persuading Lola to ask Rothschild if she would take a call from Nina was easy. Actually getting Rothschild to answer proved harder. It took three attempts, Nina telling Lola to relay increasingly hyperbolic pleas before the older woman finally, and resentfully, picked up.

  “Well, this should be interesting, Nina,” she snapped. “After last night, I’m surprised you’re not calling me from prison. From what I saw on the news, there were two dead, several injured, a colossal amount of property damage, and half the city thrown into chaos. Just another day for you, isn’t it?”

  Nina held back an acidic reply, forcing herself to remain diplomatic. “Maureen, this is very important. It’s about the dig at the Sphinx.”

  “What about it?”

  “Someone’s trying to rob the Hall of Records before Logan can open it.”

  There was a brief silence before Rothschild’s disbelieving, explosive “What?”

  “The Osirian Temple—they’re behind it. They used a fourth page of the Gaza scrolls—one that they didn’t give to the IHA—to locate a second entrance. They’re digging into it right now.”

  Another pause. Then, to Nina’s anger, a mocking laugh. “Thank you, Nina, for confirming my theory—you have gone completely insane. I thought claiming to discover the Garden of Eden was outrageous enough, but this? Why would the Osirian Temple carry out a second dig when they’re already helping pay for the first one?”

  “Maybe you should ask them,” Nina growled. “But I’ve got a picture right here of the fourth scroll, as well as a plan of the tunnel.”

  “And where did you get these pictures? One of those websites that claim there are flying saucers recorded in Egyptian hieroglyphics?”

  “No, from Macy Sharif.”

  “Macy Sharif? You mean the intern?”

  “That’s right.”

  “The intern who’s wanted by the Egyptian police for assault and antiquities theft?”

  Nina glanced at Macy, who was watching anxiously. “I think she was framed. Everything that happened last night was because they were trying to kill her, so she couldn’t tell anyone what she’d discovered.”

  Rothschild’s voice turned cold. “Nina, I really do not have the time to listen to paranoid conspiracy theories. Don’t call me again.”

  “At least look at the pictures. I’ll send them to you—”

  “Don’t bother.” She hung up.

  “Goddammit,” Nina muttered. She emailed the pictures anyway, then called Lola once more.

  “I’m guessing it didn’t go well,” said Lola. “Professor Rothschild just told me never to put you through to her again.”

  “Yeah, I thought she might. Listen, I just sent her an email with some photos attached—she’ll probably delete it without even looking, but I’m going to send it to you as well. Can you print them out and put them in her in-tray or something? It’s really important that she at least loo
ks at them.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. Hey, did you see what happened in Times Square last night?”

  “I might have heard something,” said Nina, deadpan. “Bye, Lola.” She sent a second copy of the email to Lola, then slumped in her chair. “God, this is so frustrating! If I’d still been at the IHA, I could have had someone check it out in five minutes.”

  “There’s got to be something else you can do,” Macy protested. “If these guys get their hands on the zodiac, they’ll work out how to find the Pyramid of Osiris and go rob it—and nobody else will ever know that they’ve done it. The whole place’ll be lost forever! Is that what you want?”

  “Of course it’s not what I want,” Nina snapped. “But there’s not really much I can do about it, is there? Unless we actually go to Egypt and catch them red-handed …” She trailed off.

  Eddie recognized her look. “No,” he said in a warning tone.

  “We could go to Egypt.”

  “No, we couldn’t.”

  “Yes, we could.”

  “We don’t have visas.”

  “Our UN visas are still valid.”

  “We’ve got no bloody money!”

  “We’ve got credit cards.”

  “That are almost maxed out!”

  “I’ve got a credit card,” offered Macy. “I’ll pay.”

  Nina gave the nineteen-year-old an incredulous look. “Are you serious?”

  “Sure! I’ve got tons of credit.”

  “Must be nice,” Eddie muttered.

  Nina was still dubious. “I don’t know how much it costs to fly to Egypt, but I’m pretty sure it’s not cheap. We can cover it ourselves.”

  He made a face. “If we sell a kidney or two.”

  “It’s not a problem, I can afford it,” said Macy. “Well, my mom and dad can, but same diff. My dad’s a plastic surgeon and my mom’s a psychiatrist, they’re really rich. They pay for all my stuff anyway.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Nina. “Macy, have you actually told your parents about any of this?”

  She looked sheepish. “Ah, that would be no. They don’t even know I’m back in the country.”

  Nina was horrified. “Oh my God! How could you not tell them?”

  “I was trying to protect them! That scar-faced guy said he was going to send people to watch our house and tap the phones, so they could find me. If Mom and Dad didn’t know anything was wrong, they wouldn’t get worried, and they couldn’t give me away.”

  “Well, they’ll know something’s wrong now,” Nina told her. “Even if the IHA didn’t contact them after you got in trouble—which I’m pretty sure they would have—I had to tell the police about meeting you last night. They’ll have gotten your parents’ details from the IHA, and called them.”

  Macy went pale. “Oh. I … didn’t think of that.”

  Nina indicated the phone. “Call them, right now. Let them know you’re okay.”

  She picked it up and dialed. “Mom, hi! Mom? Mom, calm down—I’m okay, I’m fine. Yes, I’m okay, really! Oh, the IHA called, huh?” She grimaced. “No, that’s not what happened at all, they’re totally lying!” She huffed impatiently. “Mom! No, I can’t come home, not just yet. I’ll come back as soon as I can, but there’s something I need to do first, it’s really important. I’ll tell you and Dad all about it afterward. Oh, and if you think anyone’s watching the house, call the police, ’kay?”

  That prompted a near-hysterical response loud enough for her hosts to overhear. “Jeez, Mom! Look, really, I’m okay. I’ll talk to you soon, okay? Give my love to everyone. Mom. Mom! I said I’ll call you. Okay, hanging up now. Bye. Bye.”

  Macy lowered the phone, looking flustered and frustrated. “Parents! God! They can be such a pain sometimes.” Then she looked at Nina, suddenly apologetic. “Oh! Sorry.”

  Nina was confused. “For what?”

  “I read in the Time article that your parents died when you were about my age, so I didn’t want you to think I was saying that about all parents. I’m sure yours were great. Sorry.” She went back to the laptop.

  “Er … okay,” said Nina, taken aback.

  “Subtle, ain’t she?” Eddie whispered.

  “Yeah. I think you two’ll get along fine.”

  “Tchah!”

  “Okay,” said Macy, looking around at them, “so, flights to Egypt. Do you guys want regular or vegetarian meals?”

  SIX

  Giza

  Hey,” joked Eddie, “didn’t they get smashed up by the Transformers?”

  Nina rolled her eyes as she gazed in awe at the three enormous monuments before them. The Great Pyramid of Giza was the only survivor of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, the others lost to time and conflict millennia ago. Part of the reason for its endurance was sheer size; though Khufu’s pyramid and its companions, the slightly lower Pyramid of Khafre and the markedly smaller—but still massive—Pyramid of Menkaure, had long since lost almost all of their white limestone outer casings, their colossal cores of sandstone and granite remained intact after more than four and a half thousand years.

  Macy was less impressed. Her hair hidden beneath a baseball cap and her face partly covered by a pair of oversized sunglasses, she ground an impatient foot into the gritty sand. “I’ve already seen the pyramids. Like, every day I was here. Why aren’t you talking to Dr. Berkeley?”

  “Partly because he’s not here yet.” Afraid of being recognized, Macy had not gone with Nina and Eddie to the Sphinx compound, where they unsuccessfully tried to persuade the IHA team to grant them access. “He’s doing some TV show in Cairo, talking about the dig. He won’t be back for a couple of hours. And partly because … well, I’m not coming all the way to Egypt and not visiting the pyramids!”

  They set off up the road along the compound’s northern side. Eddie peered over the wall at the construction site below. “This shaft, it’s down there?”

  Macy joined him. “Yeah. In that tent.” She pointed it out.

  He made a mental note of its position, also taking in that it was better guarded than Macy had described. Two men in uniform—though not that of the Tourist Police, suggesting they were private security contractors—were on watch.

  Macy looked toward the Sphinx. “There are more guards than before.”

  “Making sure nobody else cocks up their dig,” Eddie said. “Might be a good thing, though.”

  “How?”

  “If they’ve brought in new guys, there’s less chance of someone recognizing you.” He ran his fingers along the underside of the stone slab topping the wall as if testing its weight.

  “Something?” Nina asked.

  “Just planning ahead. So, we going to get some pyramid power?”

  The Great Pyramid’s base was only about a quarter of a mile from the Sphinx, though the massive area it covered, the bottom of each face more than 750 feet long, meant the walk needed to reach the entrance on the northern side was close to twice that. The entrance itself, where several dozen people were already waiting, was gated and watched by the Tourist Police and official guides. Access to the pyramids’ interiors was only allowed twice a day to small numbers. Even exhausted by the eleven-hour flight from New York, Nina had insisted they be there the moment the ticket office opened.

  Some discreet but firm blocking by Eddie allowed Nina and Macy to be the first to scale the stone tiers and enter. “It’s steeper than it looks in pictures,” Nina commented. The narrow, smooth-walled passage descended into the heart of the pyramid at almost a thirty-degree angle, and the ceiling was uncomfortably low.

  Eddie caught up, squeezing past an annoyed tourist at the entrance. “Christ, it’s cramped,” he complained. “Guess the pharaohs were all short-arses. So, where does this go?”

  “There’re two routes,” said Macy. “If you keep going down, you end up in the original burial chamber, but it’s kinda boring, there’s nothing there. They decided to use a different chamber while the pyramid was being built.”
<
br />   “Must’ve pissed off the architects,” Eddie said, grinning. “I can just imagine it. He wants to do what? But we’re already halfway finished. Fucking clients!”

  After sixty feet the passage split, one leg continuing down while the other, its ceiling even lower, headed upward at an equally steep angle. Though she wanted to explore the entire place, Nina opted to take Macy’s advice and follow the latter route. Even this early in the morning, the air in the tunnels was hot and stifling. Leg muscles protesting at the floor’s steepness, she headed up the passage, bent low.

  “So did this place have any booby traps?” Eddie asked.

  “Booby traps? Shyeah,” said Macy sarcastically. “You only get those in Tomb Raider games.”

  “Oh, ya think?” Nina said, prompting a surprised look from the other woman. “You should try reading the International Journal of Archaeology rather than just magazine articles sometime.”

  “I do read the IJA!” Macy insisted. “Well, the interesting bits.”

  “It’s all interesting,” said Nina, affronted.

  “Right, like finding sixteenth-century Mongolian toothpicks compares to discovering Atlantis.” Behind Macy, Eddie laughed, annoying Nina even more.

  Her irritation vanished as she arrived at another section of the pyramid’s interior. A horizontal passage branched off the one she was ascending, but it was the continuation of the climb that caught her attention. Though little wider than the tunnel from which she had just emerged, it was far taller, almost thirty feet high—the Great Gallery.

  “Now, this is more like it,” said Eddie, stretching as he emerged from the passage into the long vaulted chamber constructed from massive limestone blocks. “What was it for?”

  “There’s a theory that it was part of a counterweight system to lift blocks up to the top, but … nobody really knows,” Nina admitted. Like so many aspects of the pyramids, the Great Gallery’s exact purpose was a mystery. She looked down the horizontal passage. “That’s the Queen’s Chamber down there, right?”