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Authors: Max McCoy

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BOOK: Indiana Jones and the Secretof the Sphinx
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Often he was near enough to recognize the sound of her voice, sometimes he could catch a fleeting glimpse of her face, but never was he close enough to actually touch her. His frustration was compounded because a part of him knew it was just a dream, and that he could never catch up to her.

"Who's Alecia?" Faye asked when Indy woke.

"Pardon?"

"You were talking in your sleep," Faye said. She was sitting at the table, eating breakfast from a plate of fruit that Pascal had brought. "I don't mean to pry, but she seemed awfully important. Is she your wife?"

"I've never been married."

"Your girlfriend, then."

"No," Indy said.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Just after dawn," she said. "I went outside a little while ago. It's beautiful, now that the storm has passed."

"Where's the lieutenant?" he asked.

"Still asleep," Faye said. "So is Mystery."

"Why aren't you?" Indy asked.

"Never could sleep in," she said. "Are you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"About Alecia."

"Why should I?" Indy asked.

"Because we're friends," Faye said. "Because we have been through a life-and-death ordeal together. Because we're glad to be alive. Because I want to know, and because you want to tell me."

"I don't."

"Are you in love with her?"

"I was," Indy said.

"But not anymore."

"Look," Indy said. "I'll give you the short version, okay? I once knew a woman named Alecia. We made each other miserable. Then she died."

Faye was silent.

"Satisfied?" Indy asked.

"No," Faye said. "Can you talk about it without being angry?"

"You're making me angry."

"I don't think so," Faye said. "You're angry about this woman, and you have been angry for a long time. I just didn't know until now what you were angry about."

"Look, this has nothing to do with me anymore—"

"It has everything to do with you," Faye said. "Think about it. People just don't drop everything and take off for a foreign land unless they are unhappy or unfulfilled. I know—I speak from experience."

"Kaspar was unhappy?" Indy asked.

"He didn't ask me to follow," she said.

"Then why do you search?"

"Because I love him," she said. "Because Mystery needs her father—or, at the very least, needs to know what happened to her father. And because I'm sharp enough and strong enough to find him, and I could never forgive myself if I didn't try."

Indy coughed.

"This is making you uncomfortable," Faye said.

"It's not the sort of thing that fellows talk about with their friends," Indy admitted.

"We'll stop," Faye said.

"Good," Indy said.

Faye reached down and picked up the Bible.

"Saying your prayers?" she asked.

"Reading about the Staff of Aaron," Indy explained. "I understand why Kaspar was fascinated—it was the original magic wand. It could find water, bring plagues, smite your enemy. As long as Moses held it up, the Israelites could not lose in battle."

Faye smiled.

"When I was a child," Faye said, "I would close my eyes, open the Bible, and read a verse at random. It seems pretty silly now. But the verses always seemed to make sense."

"But no longer?"

"No," she said.

"What do you think has changed?"

"I have," Faye said. "I grew up."

"Children are given to magical thinking."

"You don't believe in magic, Dr. Jones?""

"It depends on your definition," Indy said. "If you mean the kind of entertainment that requires a willing suspension of disbelief from an audience that should know better, then the answer is yes, I enjoy it."

"No," she said. "I mean real magic."

"If science has taught us anything," Indy said, "it's that there's no such thing. Magic, superstition—these are things of the past."

"Science is just another belief system," Faye said. "It is a good system, but it is not the only system. Nor does it explain everything. Do you believe in God, Dr. Jones?"

"Yes," Indy said.

"Good," Faye said. "At least that's something. You suspend your belief in science to allow room for faith in something you cannot prove exists, but which you posit because of a conviction that goes beyond the rational. Would it be so hard to admit that magic may work as well?"

"If there were proof," Indy said.

Faye smiled.

"That's what Kaspar was looking for," she said. "Others might seek the Staff for the riches or the power it could bring, but Kaspar was after something else. He wanted an affirmation that magic worked, that miracles could still happen."

"The original magic wand," Indy said.

"Yes," Faye said.

"But it's hopelessly lost to antiquity," Indy said. "It may even be a myth."

"If it is," Faye said, "it is a particularly well-documented myth. The Old Testament mentions it often. In Exodus, it turns into a snake and gobbles up the serpents conjured by Pharaoh's magicians. It turns the Nile to blood and helps to call down the ten plagues upon Egypt."

"Frogs, gnats, and swarms of flies," Indy said. "Boils, fiery hail, and locusts. Cattle die. Darkness upon the land. Death for the firstborn of Egypt. But even if you found it," Indy asked, "how would you know it was
the
Staff? If it survived, it would be nothing but a dried-up old stick by now."

"You mean how could you tell it from a fake?" Faye asked. "The Bible describes it as a rod, made of almond, with Aaron's name on it. And then, of course, how many dried-up old sticks can perform miracles?"

"You can't be serious," Indy said.

Faye returned his unblinking stare.

"Well," Indy said, "if it works, then I guess it would settle the question of magic once and for all."

Faye smiled, and was about to add something when Mystery burst into the room.

"Dr. Jones!" she said. "Mother! Come quickly. There's an airplane in the lagoon."

Indy and Faye followed Mystery outside. The brilliance of the sunshine on the beach made Indy blink.

Sitting in the middle of the lagoon, like a lone duck on a farm pond, was a massive flying boat. It had four engines mounted on its single, overhead wing. The fuselage was shaped more like the hull of a boat than an aircraft, an effect that was reinforced by a series of portholes. On the nose, below the cockpit windows in black lettering, were the words
Pan American.

From beneath the wing of the plane the crew was launching a small boat.

Pascal appeared at Indy's side.

"I did not expect you to be up so early, considering your ordeal yesterday," he said.

"When did the flying boat arrive?" Indy asked.

"A few minutes ago," Pascal said. "I made contact with the
Augusta
this morning," he explained. "They, in turn, contacted the flying boat."

"I didn't know Pan Am had passenger service in this part of the world yet," Indy said.

"They don't," Pascal said. "Their Clippers are limited to South America, I believe. But the radioman on the
Augusta
said they were testing a new aircraft."

As the boat neared the beach, Pascal became uncomfortable.

"If you don't mind," he said, "I have the morning's duties yet to perform."

"Thank you," Indy said.

"Thanks is not necessary."

"Oh, I think it is," Indy said and held out his hand. Pascal paused, then grasped Indy's hand in his.

"We won't forget your kindness," Indy said.

Pascal nodded, then disappeared into the cavern of the church.

The boat pulled up to the beach and the crewman rowing shipped the oars. A tall man in a blue jacket stepped from the bow into the surf.

"I understand you've had rather a tough go," he said.

"Just a small typhoon," Indy said.

"We were lucky enough to avoid it," the man said. "My name is Ed Musick. I fly for Pan American, as you can see, and we've been performing tests on the Sikorsky S-42. Beautiful, isn't she?"

"I'll say. I haven't seen one in years."

"Pardon?" Musick asked. "The S-42 just went into production."

"I mean, a flying boat," Indy said.

Musick smiled.

"We've also been exploring some airways and harbors for a possible China route next year," he said. "We received a radio message asking us to rescue some storm refugees."

"That would be us," Indy said. "Captain Musick, this is Faye Maskelyne and her daughter, Mystery."

"Ladies," Musick said and tipped his hat. "I'm afraid we can't return you to the States, since we're not equipped yet for passenger service. But our next stop is Calcutta, and from there you should have no problem getting passage back."

"That would be a great help," Indy said.

"Is your party ready?" Musick asked. "The radioman said there were four of you."

"We're almost ready," Indy said.

"What do we do with the lieutenant?" Faye asked.

"We can't leave her here," Indy said. "We'll take her to Calcutta and drop her off at the Japanese embassy."

"A Japanese national?" Musick asked.

"The only other survivor of our boat," Indy said.

"I'll go untie her," Faye said.

"She's tied up?" Musick asked.

"Wait," Indy said. "After you meet her, you'll understand."

As the flying boat ascended into the blue sky above Lazarus Island, Indy sank into the well-cushioned seat and pulled the brim of the fedora over his eyes. Faye and Mystery were gathered at the window, looking down at the azure lagoon, but Indy had been in so many airplanes that such sights had become routine. Instead, he was thinking about how he would phrase the telegram to Marcus Brody when they arrived in Calcutta, and where they would stay until the money arrived.

On the other side of the aisle, with her hands bound but her eyes bright and sharp, was Musashi.

She was planning as well.

6
Jadoo

Indy pulled Musashi by the hand through the crowds that choked downtown Calcutta, with Faye and Mystery at their heels. Above the confusing mix of Bengali, Hindi, and Urdu—which everyone seemed to be speaking as loudly and as quickly as possible—there were the shrieking horns and growling engines of the incessant buses, the tread of tens of thousands of feet, and the universal cry of the curbside beggars.

"This is the noisiest city I've ever heard," Faye said.

"It's also the poorest," Indy said. "Thousands of these people sleep on the streets because they have nowhere else to go. Most of those fortunate enough to have a home live in the
bustees,
the slums, where there is no running water and no sewers. Starvation and disease are rampant."

"After the Depression hit, I thought Oklahoma was rough," Faye said. "But the more I see of the world, the more fortunate I feel to be an American."

"Don't forget that feeling," Indy shouted back.

After asking at every corner they came to, they eventually found the Japanese embassy, hidden from the teeming masses by an iron gate guarded by a pair of Imperial soldiers.

"Okay," Indy said as he untied the rope that bound Musashi's hand to his, "this is it.
Sayonara."

She stood in front of the gate, rubbing her wrist.

"Hey!" Indy shouted as he waved his arms at the guards.
"Hai!
Come and get her. She's one of yours!"

"You should have killed me when you had the chance," Musashi said.

Indy leaned close to her.

"There's still time," he said.

The guards unlocked the gate and Musashi stepped inside. She immediately began barking orders in Japanese and pointing at Indy.

"They wouldn't dare—," Indy said.

"They would," Faye said as the soldiers came toward them.

"Run!" Indy said.

In a moment they were lost in the crowd. The soldiers stopped at the end of the block, unwilling to get out of sight of the embassy.

"Cowards," Musashi hissed when they returned.

After haggling with a pawnbroker for twenty minutes, Indy succeeded in pawning his wristwatch for ten dollars. Then, at the Western Union office next door to the pawnbroker, he sent a telegram to New York. Its briefness was dictated not only by the precarious state of their finances, but by Indy's reluctance to explain:

TO: MARCUS BRODY, AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY.
FROM: INDIANA JONES
IN CALCUTTA, NEED MONEY QUICK. STOP. NO QUESTIONS, WILL EXPLAIN LATER. STOP.

At Travelers Aid, they asked about the cheapest and safest place to spend the night. They were sent to the Atlas House, a somewhat run-down but still respectable hotel that catered mostly to middle-class English-speaking merchants. The Atlas charged two dollars per night, with board. They signed for two rooms.

As the desk clerk looked at their names, his eyebrows went up.

"Something wrong?" Indy asked.

"No," the clerk said. "It's just that Maskelyne is a name you don't see much. Had a Maskelyne stay here three or four years ago, as I recall."

"Kaspar Maskelyne?" Faye asked.

"I believe so," the clerk said.

"Are you sure?" Faye asked. "It's very important."

BOOK: Indiana Jones and the Secretof the Sphinx
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