Origins (31 page)

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Authors: Mark Henrikson

BOOK: Origins
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Chapter 47:  Retribution

 

Hastelloy’s hearing must
have improved because he was able to detect a disturbance off in the darkness.  Soon he saw the faint glow of lit torches.  Lots of torches and they were coming closer.  An angry mob was approaching, and judging by the tone, they were out for blood.

Tomal’s self-satisfied look melted away to an expression of sheer panic.  Thanks to the Nexus, dying wasn’t his real concern.  The pace and manner in which he died was the issue.  He must have suddenly realized his helping murder Pharaoh, along with his gods, wouldn’t be very popular.  Judging by the look on his face, he had no idea what to do next to get out of his situation.

“Oh, boy.  That sure sounds like trouble,” Hastelloy said while trying to convey a concern for Tomal’s safety that he in no way felt.  Deep down he wanted to see Tomal get knocked back down to size, and an angry mob in search for the man who erected the obelisks that killed their gods was just the device to do it.  The problem was he still needed Tomal in an influential position for the next phase of his plan to work.

“What do I do?” Tomal asked as he franticly looked around for a place to hide.  Hastelloy watched with satisfaction as panic set in while the mob rapidly approached.  Pharaoh’s brother, Nofru, was leading the crowd and Hastelloy noticed immediately the brother was wearing a different headdress and necklace now.

The change didn’t go unnoticed by Gallono either, “Looks like there’s a new Pharaoh in town.  That sure didn’t take long did it?  Do you think he’s coming to give you a big hug for erecting the obelisks that killed his god and brother, Tomal?”

Hastelloy let his engineer squirm around in dismay a few more seconds before offering his guidance.  “Still only thinking one move ahead aren’t you?  Fortunately I can see a bit farther ahead and planned accordingly.”

Hastelloy inclined his head to the left, which drew Tomal’s attention to a smaller group of people approaching led by Mosa. “You’re about to owe her a humongous favor.”

Nofru was the first to reach Tomal.  Without a sound, the new Pharaoh raised a bent arm into the air and then straightened it out with his middle and index fingers pointing right at Tomal.  Immediately four guards ran forward, knocked Tomal to the ground and raised him up to be on all fours with his neck exposed for a quick beheading.

Pharaoh wasted no time.  Without breaking stride, he drew his sword and laid it to rest on the back of Tomal’s vulnerable neck.  At first Tomal strained against the men holding him down, but soon resigned to his fate.

“You!  I treated you like a brother,” the new Pharaoh shouted.  “I plucked you from the slave ranks and gave you everything you could ever
want, and how do you repay my kindness?  You engineer a device that murders my brother and my gods.”

Tomal looked up from his helpless position.  “I constructed the monuments as I was asked to do.  I . . .”

“Silence - Pharaoh speaks.  The mouth of a murderous traitor will spew no more lies.”  Without further adieu, Nofru raised his blade and made ready to strike the deathblow.

“It was my god who used the obelisk monuments to destroy the false gods,” Mosa boomed.  “It also was my god who turned the mid day sky dark and sent the burning rain.  You are now Pharaoh, Nofru, so my demand to free the slaves or face further consequences from the divine being falls to you.”

Pharaoh stopped his decapitating swing and turned to meet his sister’s determined stare.  He looked ready to turn the blade loose on Mosa, but the fear of her powerful god must have been enough to hold him back

“I will have your answer on this, Nofru,” she demanded.  “Neferhotep’s delay cost him his water supply, his livestock, even the sun in the sky, and finally his life.  What torments are you willing to endure before you give in to the inevitable?”

The glow of power and self-confidence Pharaoh brandished moments before vanished and were replaced by the look of a meek child facing the discipline of a parent.  Finally, Pharaoh spoke in a weak and pleading voice.  “Your god does nothing but cause death and destruction.  Why do you serve such a being?  The great Anubis gave us all the tools and guidance to build a great empire.  He is worthy of worship and praise.  Your bringer of destruction is only worthy of contempt.”

“No one should have complete control over another.  To dominate a person’s free will is amoral and must be opposed.  Your empire was built on the backs of slaves, and slavery is evil.  I serve a being who seeks to rid the world of such evil.  My god’s harsh measures come from Pharaoh’s refusal to meet his demands.  Neferhotep’s stubbornness brought this suffering to the kingdom, now you have the power to lift it.  Will you free the slaves?”  Mosa demanded.

Pharaoh hung his head low for a few moments.  The consequences of Mosa’s demands were unthinkable, yet the backing of her god made them undeniable at the same time.  Eventually he looked up and as his head rose, so did the aura of omnipotence he projected.  Hastelloy observed Pharaoh’s confidence return, and he didn’t like the smirk that crossed his lips.  “Let us strike a bargain, sister.  If the slaves stay and complete a monument in Neferhotep’s memory, any choosing to leave the safety and sustenance my empire provides may go at that time.  Those choosing to stay will no longer be slaves, but citizens of the great civilization they were instrumental in founding.”

As usual, Hastelloy didn’t understand all the words spoken, but he deciphered enough through his limited vocabulary and keen analysis of body language to understand the situation.  Pharaoh was technically giving into Mosa’s demand but was buying himself enough time to win over the slaves with kindness to induce them to stay.  It would be interesting, Hastelloy thought, to see how many choose to stay with the torment they knew versus following Mosa into the unknown.  Hastelloy was not a betting man, but the smart money was on most of the slave
s staying with what they knew, especially with the incentive of ascending to the working class of society. 

On the surface, the distinction between slave and working class was almost imperceptible.  Both labored all day in exchange for food, shelter, and clothing.  The difference was workers earned a wage and purchased the things they needed while slaves earned no wage but had the necessities given to them. 

Below the surface though, slaves and workers were light years apart. Workers could choose to work more hours and earn more pay.  Or they could learn to perform more skilled or complex tasks so they could earn an even higher wage.  Either way, workers controlled heir own lives and had avenues to improve them.  Slaves, on the other hand were trapped with no hope of deliverance – ever. 

At first Hastelloy couldn’t see the distinction.  In fact, most people couldn’t.  Mosa’s keen sense of dignity and decency did, even from her privileged position.  If more people with Mosa’s moral compass inhabit the planet, the Sigma species had a very bright future ahead.

Hastelloy’s attention came back to the moment at hand as Mosa spoke again. “If your kingdom is truly so magnificent, you have nothing to fear from the slaves electing to leave.  There is no reason to delay your offer of freedom to the slaves.  Announce your great gift to the people tomorrow at mid day.  Those who want to leave will do so immediately, those choosing to stay will begin work on Neferhotep’s monument at a fair wage.”

A faint sneer touched the corner of Pharaoh’s mouth before he proclaimed his response, “Agreed.”

With the bargain struck, Mosa walked over to where Tomal was held.  She brushed off the arms of the four men holding him and helped Tomal to his feet.  “Have your chief engineer ready the plans for the monument.  Neferhotep, despite his flaws, did great things.  Our brother should be commemorated for all eternity; we need to remember who he was and what he accomplished.”

Chapter 48:  Good Old Locusts

 

Hastelloy awoke in
the middle of the night to a shrill buzzing sound.  He rolled over and pulled one of Tomal’s fluffy pillows close and bowed it over his head to cover both ears.  He hoped it would somehow curtail the volume of the ringing inside his head.  To his great surprise, there was a noticeable decrease in volume.

Encouraged by the results, Hastelloy pressed even harder on the pillow with his hands and the nauseating sound fell completely silent. He loosened the vice grip on his skull and the buzzing instantly returned.  Suddenly it dawned on him that the noise was not the same as the incessant ringing he managed to fall asleep with
in his ears.

Before Hastelloy could give the matter much more thought he felt a fluttering sensation on his leg.  He rolled over onto his back and looked down to see what was tickling him.  Hastelloy never considered himself much of an entomophob, but the sight of a six inch long bug on his leg made him lurch to an upright sitting position. 

Quickly, he brushed the large insect away and looked around Tomal’s enormous tent.  Tonwen, Valnor, and Gallono still lay undisturbed on the floor in their respective bedrolls, but Tomal was wide awake and sitting up in his bed listening to the haunting hum in the air.

“What the hell are those things?” Tomal managed.  “They’re huge.  There must be millions of them out there to make such a racket.”

“Locusts,” Hastelloy said quietly.  He leaned over and gently nudged Tonwen causing the science officer to wake.   “The final plague is here.”

The science officer slowly sat up and rubbed his eyes.  When he finally put his arms down behind him to brace his sitting position he took in the view and sound.  “Ah, so it is.” 

Tonwen gingerly plucked one of the large bugs from the tent wall to have a closer look.  While holding the specimen between his thumb and forefinger he examined every centimeter of the insect’s six inch long body and equally large wings and hind legs. “The swarming insects are quite large on this planet, though most things seem to be proportionally bigger here.”

“Wait a minute.  You know what these monstrous things are?” Tomal asked.

“The term locust is not the name of a particular insect, but rather a generic term for a swarming insect population.  Every planet with sentient life has a swarming insect, it’s part of what makes the ecosystem work.  By themselves these insects are not dangerous in the least. See?”  Tonwen extended his hand with the locust still in it.  The insect calmly sat still waiting to be released. 

Next Tonwen reached out with his free hand and grabbed another locust and held the two insects next to each other.  “When they come in groups it is another matter.  Observe.” 

He made the hind legs of the two oversized insects touch and soon they began kicking, and frantically flapping their wings, which created a low buzzing noise.  Gradually both insects began changing color from a bright green to pale brown.

“Swarming behavior is a response to overcrowding.  Increased tactile stimulation of the hind legs increases the serotonin levels.  This causes the locust to change color, eat significantly more, and breed incessantly.  On some planets swarms of insects have been known to cover hundreds of square miles with billions of individual insects all working themselves into a feeding, breeding frenzy.”

“That’s just wonderful.  If you know so much about their behavior then tell me, why are they here?” Tomal asked.

“In a word – food.”

“Great.  Sounds like the worst of all your plagues,” Tomal exhaled with resignation behind his breath.  “They’re going to eat what little food is left in this city and the people will have absolutely nothing to keep them alive.”

“On the contrary, this is a good thing.” Tonwen countered.  “They will of course consume some of our food, but mostly they will find the flies and gnats all around us and feed on them.  Once the flies are gone the boils and sores caused by their bites will go away in time, as will the spread of pestilence among the animals.”

Hastelloy added his input to the conversation.  “My navigation unit indicates the last of the poisoned water will finally flow past the city on its way back out to the sea just in time for Pharaoh’s announcement tomorrow afternoon.”

Hastelloy got to his feet and walked over to the entrance flap of the tent.  Abruptly, he threw it open to reveal that the flaming pieces of rock from the volcanic eruption were starting to thin out.  What was once a constant barrage of fiery streaks in the sky dwindled to just a handful.

“The fire storm is coming to an end and the ash cloud will thin out starting tomorrow to allow sunlight through again.  All of this is coming together very nicely for Pharaoh’s announcement tomorrow don’t you think?”

“Close the opening,” Tomal roared as dozens of locusts took advantage of the brief opportunity to enter the tent.  Hastelloy complied and casually walked back to his bed roll on the floor.

“It is coming together very nicely indeed,” Tonwen added.  “Clean water will allow the frogs to leave.  The locusts will devour the flies in no time and move on leaving the land completely free of all plagues.  So when you think about it, the locusts are really the plague to end all plagues.”

“That sounds all well and good, but what will the people have to eat when everything is said and done?” Tomal asked.

Tonwen looked down at the two locusts still in his hands with a thankful expression.  “Dry them out or cook them over a fire.  Either way these large insects will make a decent meal.”

Tomal looked at the bugs with disgust, “I can’t wait.”

“But you will be nourished,” Tonwen finished.

**********

“Ah yes, the famous plague of locusts,” Dr. Holmes stated as he looked up from his notepad.  “A story involving ancient Egypt just wouldn’t be complete without it.”

“My dear Dr. Holmes, it sounds like you’re doubting my story?” Hastelloy asked feigning great offense to the statement.  “Isn’t the typical therapy technique for you to pretend you believe my story until you ask enough questions and poke enough holes in it to make me realize the story simply can’t be true.  If you’re choosing to go against this time tested convention then I must say your method of treatment is very unorthodox. ”

Jeffery was once again surprised at the awareness of his patient.  “Touché.  In kind though, I am forced to point out that your take on the plague of locusts being a good thing for the people of Egypt is equally unorthodox,” Jeffrey rebutted.  “You can’t seriously think a swarm of giant grasshoppers could undo all the plagues of ancient Egypt?”

“You forget who you’re talking to doctor.  I was there, I saw it,” the patient insisted.  “There is no thinking involved at all; I am simply restating the facts.”

“Of course,” Jeffrey replied, not able to hide even a trace of his skepticism.  “You’ll have to forgive me.  For a moment I thought I was listening to a fantasy novel reading and not an autobiographical account of events that happened some five thousand years ago.  Silly me.”

Dr. Holmes held his patient’s stare for a few moments and took the time to compose himself.  All the while Hastelloy stared at him with a look of great amusement.  Jeffrey was having difficulty believing this patient was not part of some elaborate prank.  He fought off the urge to look outside his office door to see if Ashton Kutcher was there waiting to exclaim ‘you’ve been punked’.  He needed to get the patient focused on the story again.

“Tell me, whatever came of the monument the new Pharaoh insisted on building?”

“It only became the most famous statue ever to exist in the history of mankind,” Hastelloy responded flatly.

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