Close Up the Sky (35 page)

"They're here
all right. This is the feast of Amen. That's why there are so many people in
the streets. Amen's feast is always celebrated at Thebes."

"I guess
that's why there are so many flies here, too? I mean, for the feast?"
Williams inquired with attempted humor.

"Flies are
always bad near the cities," Taylor answered, ignoring the pun. "But
they're probably worse on us than on the Egyptians. If they bother you so much,
use some insect repellent." She was still incensed at him for siding with
Summerhour when she had wanted to go back and search for Matt.

"Will you be
back before night?" Summerhour asked.

"I'll be as
quick as possible. A certain amount of diplomacy has to be used when dealing
with Egyptian royalty. You know that."

He nodded. "It's
just that I hate waiting."

"There's
something you can do while I'm gone. You and Chuck can get into the streets and
watch for Matt. If he followed us, he should be here before nightfall."

“That’s not a bad
idea,” said Williams. “All of this may be old hat to you two, but I’d like to
see some of the city. Not much chance I'll ever get back here, you know. Besides,
we don't stand a chance of running into him if we just sit here."

"Okay,"
Summerhour said to Taylor. "We'll go hang around the docks until evening. If
he's coming, that's where we'll have the best chance of spotting him. You try
to be back by then."

She looked at him
for a long moment. "You know how much this means to me, Mike." Her
voice was level, quiet, almost threatening.

He nodded. "Don't
worry. If he's already here, or shows up later, we'll find him."

She turned and
walked out the door.

"You don't
really believe that, do you?" Williams asked after he was sure Taylor was
out of hearing.

"No. He
probably died in the sandstorm. But she's an indispensable member of this team,
so we'll have to humor her. Let's go."

Both of them were
wearing thin robes of brown cotton that reached to their ankles. Beneath them
were their L-suits, utility belts and weapons. They stepped into the street and
turned toward the docks. Hundreds of people jammed the streets, laughing,
talking and jostling each other as they went about their business. Along the
way they passed food stands loaded with fresh fish, fruit, and a variety of
vegetables. Others offered clothing, fine cloth, pottery, jewelry, and cooking
oils. Visitors from all over the known world clogged the thoroughfares of
Thebes to pay homage to Egypt's greatest god, and possibly make a profit during
his feast. Hittites, Nubians, Libyans, Greeks, and Trojans, all in colorful
clothing, mixed freely with the native Egyptians who wore simple loincloths or
shifts. The entire city was aglow with a festive atmosphere, making it much
easier for Summerhour and Williams to walk through the streets without
attracting attention.

They browsed
through the markets as they walked, and after half an hour reached the
proximity of the docks. Williams was about to offer an opinion on where they
should set up their surveillance when a melee erupted in the throng ahead of
them. A man was fleeing from a group of soldiers, but his escape was being
hampered by the size of the crowd. The soldiers were shouting and making
threats as they pursued him. As he looked back over his shoulder he
accidentally crashed into one of the vendor's booths and sprawled headlong to
the ground. Before he could get up, the soldiers were on him and pinned him
down. After a brief struggle they pulled him to his feet. One of them produced
a cord from inside his tunic and began tying his hands behind his back. The
prisoner threw his head back in resignation and stared at the sky.

Summerhour grabbed
Williams’s arm just as he was about to make a move to intervene. "Don't
create a scene," he said just loud enough for the other man to hear.

Williams shook off
the grip. "What the hell's the matter with you? That's Matt!"

"I know, but
we can't do anything in this crowd and we'd probably have to kill those
soldiers to free him. They apparently don't mean him any immediate harm or they
wouldn't be tying him up. We'll follow them and see where they take him. Right
now let's try and get a little closer so he can see us." They edged their
way through the crowd to within a few feet of the soldiers. Matt was still
looking up.

"Thought
you'd fooled us with that story about being robbed, didn't you?" the
leader of the soldiers spat into his ear as he tied him. "Now we'll show
you what happens to spies!" He jerked hard on the cord he was using on
Matt's wrists. Matt grimaced in pain, but made no response.

Summerhour pushed
through to the front of the crowd. People were milling around and nodding in
anticipation of the punishment that would be meted out to the prisoner.

Matt let his gaze
drift across the faces in the crowd, passed over Summerhour, and then jerked
his eyes back. Other than that, he gave no sign of recognition. Summerhour gave
him a faint nod. Matt picked out Williams, then searched intently for another
face, but did not see her.

The soldiers spun
him around and dragged him down a side street away from the market. A filthy
looking man in a dark robe followed close behind them. Summerhour and Williams
trailed at a discrete distance, and after about fifteen minutes the soldiers
stopped at a bronze door set in a high wall.
One of them
banged on it with the butt of his spear.
Someone on the other side
opened a peephole and looked out. After a few words the door swung open. The
leader of the group shoved Matt through and followed him. The door clanged shut
with the solid sound of finality. The other two soldiers remained outside and
spoke briefly with the dark-robed man. Whatever they said made him begin
gesticulating wildly. One of the soldiers shoved him against the wall, pointed
a finger in his face, and said something between clenched teeth. Whatever he
said caused the man to throw up his hands and calm down. After some further
discussion the three of them started back the way they had come. Summerhour and
Williams were leaning against a wall and tried to look as nonchalant as
possible as the men passed them.

"Old Memhotep
will get the truth out of him all right," one of the soldiers said as they
went by.

"I have no
doubt he could squeeze water from a brick," the other guard responded. “He’ll
be lucky if he lives through the night.”

They continued
talking as they walked, but their voices were soon lost in the distance. The
robed man had been following a little way behind the soldiers, and as he walked
by the time travelers he gave them a narrow-eyed look. Through his beard they
could see a bloody cut on his face. He continued to stare at them over his
shoulder until he was well past their location. His scrutiny was so intense
that he lost track of his direction and bumped into a wall. He grunted, but
quickly recovered his composure and hurried after the soldiers.

"What's his
problem?" Williams asked.

"Who knows,
but he was sure a nasty looking character."

"You can say
that again. Well, what do we do now?"

"Nothing. That’s
the outer wall of what you might call the city jail.” Summerhour pointed toward
the door Matt had gone through. “They'll hold him there for a few days, at
least until the feast of Amen is over. It’s a custom that no prisoner can be
punished during the feast days, and by that time we'll have figured a way to
get him out. Until then he'll have to fend for himself, and it could get a
little rough."

"I wouldn't
worry too much about that,” Williams retorted. “I’ve seen him work.”

“I’m curious about
why that man was following the soldiers.” Summerhour mused. “There’s something
peculiar about it, but I can’t quite connect all the dots. It’s almost as
though he was expecting a reward or something and didn’t get it.”

"Who
knows.
Let's get back to the house,” Williams said. “At
least we'll have some good news for Taylor when she returns."

T
he hallways of the great
palace at Thebes were dark and cool. Tall columns covered with hieroglyphics of
every imaginable description lined each side of the polished stone floors. Egyptian
artists had spared no detail in painting them with pastel shades of red, brown,
green, and gold. Pictographs of warriors, gods, women, animals, and birds were
represented in various postures, all paying homage in one form or another to
the great Pharaoh Ramses.

Taylor walked
behind a female slave who was leading her to the quarters of Ramses's head wife
and most beloved, Queen Nefertari. Their feet made no sound as they proceeded
along the corridor. The silence amplified the timeless wonder she felt each
time she entered one of Egypt's great temples or palaces. She had arrived at
the gate shortly after leaving her companions and requested an audience with
Nefertari. One of the guards recognized her from her previous stay at the
palace and remembered the favor she held with the queen. He had immediately
sent word to Nefertari, and now she was only minutes away from a reunion with
the most powerful woman of the Egyptian world.

After making
several turns down side corridors, they arrived at a set of polished bronze
doors mounted between a pair of stone columns. Burly guards armed with spears and
swords stood on either side of the doors. Taylor recognized this as the
entrance to the personal quarters of the queen. But even if she had not, both
columns were imprinted with Nefertari's own cartouche that read:
Lady of Two Lands and Great Wife of Ramses,
Nefertari
. The slave girl, Tuahla, spoke briefly with one of the guards
then raised the decorative knocker and rapped softly on the door. Without
waiting for an answer, she opened it and ushered Taylor inside. Exquisite
furniture and tapestries adorned the receiving area. Chairs, sofas, and tables
painted in a multitude of bright colors were tastefully positioned about the
room, some of them inlaid with decorative squares of turquoise, gold, and onyx.
Finely embroidered rugs and mats were strewn across the floor to accentuate the
richness of the apartment. Sheer curtains made of Trojan silk dyed gold and
blue hung in gauzy folds on the walls.

Nefertari was
standing on a balcony overlooking the inner courtyard of the royal harem. Her
back was to them, but as they entered she turned and gave Taylor a warm smile
of greeting. She was dressed in a pleated white garment of silky texture banded
at the waist with a blue sash. The elbow-length sleeves were wide, with golden
threads running through the cuffs. The front of her gown was open to the waist,
revealing the inner contour of her breasts. A narrow band of gold adorned with
the royal cobra diadem held back her long dark hair. Her lips were stained with
cherry rouge and her almond eyes glowed with warmth. Taylor had almost
forgotten how stunning she was. It was little wonder that historians of her
time had recorded her as 'Nefertari of the Beautiful Face.' She came forward
with open arms. "Taylor! It has been too long since you last visited our
court."

The two women
embraced warmly, then held each other at arm's length. Under ordinary
circumstances it would have been forbidden to touch the queen, but Taylor held
a special position in Nefertari's court. As one of the biographers of Ramses's
life and times, she enjoyed many freedoms that other courtiers did not. Such a
position had placed her well within the inner circles of the queen's daily
life, and a special friendship had developed between them. Of course the royal
family did not know that the real writers of their legacies were actually men
and women who lived three thousand years in the future, and that Taylor was
simply the bearer of first-hand information that fueled their writing skills.

"You are more
beautiful than ever,
Your
Majesty."

"Nonsense!"
Nefertari admonished in mock indignation. "You are just flattering someone
whose seasons are passing much too quickly. But tell me of yourself! Where have
you been these last few years?" She led Taylor to a sofa near the balcony
where they sat down.

"Across the
desert, traveling in Babylon, Troy, and other places," she replied. "But
you have never been far from my thoughts, Your Majesty. When I was lonely I
always remembered the friendship you showed me while I was a guest in your
court. It made my heart feel glad to think of you." She squeezed the
queen's hands and continued to hold them.

Nefertari looked
deeply into Taylor's eyes. She remained silent for a while then
said,
"I see trouble in your face, Taylor. There is a
sadness there that I have not seen before. What is it, and what can I do to
help?"

"Your
perception is very keen, Majesty. I desperately need your help to find someone
who is lost. The lives of many of my people may depend upon locating this
man."

Nefertari sat back
and regarded Taylor closely for several seconds. Then she clapped her hands and
Tuahla appeared from another room. "Bring refreshments, Tuahla. Taylor
will stay and dine with me." When Tuahla had gone she said to Taylor,
"Now, tell me the story."

Taylor sat in
silence for a long moment, then looked at the queen and began her story. "Some
time ago astrologers in my land observed a star fall from the sky. Because of
their great knowledge they were able to ascertain that it fell to earth
somewhere in Egypt, most probably in the Valley of the Kings. A marvelous stone
of untold importance to my people was buried in the heart of the star. It is a
stone of unsurpassed beauty that glows with green fire."

At mention of the
stone Taylor saw a perceptive look cross Nefertari's face, indicating that she
knew something about the stellarite. At that moment Tuahla returned with the
food. Though she had no reason to mistrust the queen’s handmaiden, she did not
continue the story until the girl had set the tray of delicacies on a table and
departed. "My people use the power of such a stone to carry out many great
feats of science," she went on. "It is so important to the very
fabric of our civilization, that our scribes sent a group of our most learned
citizens to find and recover this one from the Valley of the Kings. The people
we sent did not return, so we sent others to find them. But when they arrived,
they found that someone had already removed the stone, and that all but one of
our envoys had been killed. The survivor has disappeared and no one knows where
he has gone. Inside the diggings was a necklace with the cartouche of the
pharaoh. One of his personal guards must have accidentally dropped it during
the excavation. It is for that reason I have come to you. I wish to know if the
stone is here."