They moved past the Valley Temple and up a dirt walkway until suddenly the giant cat-like stone figure sort of appeared in front of them, towering over them with the Great Pyramid behind it.
“Oh, wow,” Craig said, stopping and staring up at the towering carving. It was a man’s head on a lion’s body, with huge paws extending away from the body. Clearly the air and time had done a lot of damage to the Sphinx, since its nose and part of its face was missing. But it was still very, very impressive.
“Nose fell off about a thousand years ago,” Ed said.
“Napoleon’s artillerymen were rumored to have used the Sphinx for target practice as well,” Ernie said. “When only its head was sticking out of the sand.”
“But for most of its life, it was buried,” Ed said. “The sand around its base, in fact, was just cleared away twenty years ago.”
Danny’s mind just didn’t want to accept that the huge stone creature in front of him was even real. But yet it was.
For the first time, Danny was starting to understand his father’s passion toward archeology. So many questions, so few answers.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
August 20, 1970
Giza Plateau, Egypt
“I’M GOING TO keep an eye out for our friends,” Bud said. “You enjoy the tour.”
The short kid turned and just silently vanished behind a huge stone before Danny could even agree that it was a good idea. He couldn’t imagine how the men could follow them from the airport to here, but anything was possible. Better to have Bud watching their backs.
The twins led the way into what they called the “Valley Temple,” a series of tall blocks to the left and in front of the Sphinx.
Over what looked like a main entrance to the temple was a stone placed between two other stones. Carved into the stone were a series of hieroglyphs.
Ed pointed to them.
“What does it say?” Craig asked, staring up at the very old writings.
Danny had a hunch what it said because he could see a number of snakes seemingly flowing together.
“What many think it says is simply a blessing for those entering this temple built in the 4th Dynasty,” Ed said.
“But Danny,” Ernie said, “your father believed it meant something else, and that the stone was put there to mark the entrance or the general location to the Hall of Records.”
Ed nodded. “It says, basically, that knowledge is protected by many snakes and the ten great puzzles of life.”
“Hydra League,” Danny said softly.
“The term Hydra is commonly thought to have an ancient Greet origin,” Ernie said. “But the idea of snakes was common along the Nile, and they were often worshipped or feared as evil spirits or powerful gods, depending on the time. So this is not out of place.”
“Ten puzzles?” Craig asked.
“This saying,” Ed said to Danny, “got your father started putting together what he believed was ten clues called the Hydra Journals.”
“Clues,” Ernie said, “actually riddles that would lead to the location of the Fountain of Youth. And from there, maybe even the exact location of the Hall of Records.”
“The Hydra Journals are a series of riddles?” Craig asked. “Great. I hate riddles.”
“These riddles are as old as time, and your father had found three of them,” Ed said.
“We have company!” Bud said as he came running around a large stone and skidded to a halt in the sand. “The three guys in the cab from the hotel just pulled up out front and parked next to a tour bus and a few other cars that just arrived. I don’t think they saw our car.”
“How did they follow us to here?” Craig asked, looking stunned.
Danny felt just as stunned as Craig felt.
“They know the details of your father’s work,” Ed said.
“This would be a logical place to check out,” Ernie said.
“That’s right, they may not know we are here,” Bud said. “They weren’t acting like they did.”
Ernie pointed up at the second pyramid, talking quickly to Bud. “The main road comes in on the north side of the Pyramid of Khafre. There is a side road that runs up near the Western Cemetery. Think you can get the cab without being seen and meet us there?”
“I can,” Bud said, nodding and again vanishing between the large stones.
“We need to head to the north and into the cover of the Eastern Cemetery,” Ernie said.
“Isn’t there a causeway the Pharaohs built between here and the Pyramid of Khafre?” Danny asked, remembering some of his reading about these pyramids.
“There is,” Ed said. “But it is too exposed and we would be seen easily.”
Danny nodded. “Lead the way.”
At full run, the boys headed out through the stones, staying as low as they could as they moved behind the Sphinx. There was on open stretch of sand between the back of the Great Sphinx and the first blocks and mounds and small pyramids of the Eastern Cemetery.
Just the run along the length of the Sphinx had Danny sweating and breathing hard. The heat was intense, and he had no doubt that he and Craig couldn’t stay out in this very long.
Ernie motioned for them to stay in the slight shade of the back of the Sphinx and quickly climbed up its side, moving like he had done it a hundred times in his sandaled feet. Danny was impressed. Clearly the twins were a lot stronger and in much better shape than they looked.
And they were used to working in the intense heat of the desert.
Ernie found a spot where he must have been able to see back toward the temple and the parking lot. With one quick look, he came scrambling back down.
“The three men are going into the temple,” Ernie said. “We have to run now!”
He led the way out into the sun and across the hot sand, with Craig right behind him and Danny following his best friend very closely. Ed seemed to almost be pushing Danny from behind, and clearly wasn’t working as hard as Danny was.
Running in the sand was like a football coach’s dream for how to torture his high school team. As sophomores, their football coach had had them run sand dunes for exercise one day. Danny had hated that, and he hated running in the sand now.
It seemed to take an eternity for them to reach the tall stone blocks of the cemetery. And when they finally did, Ernie didn’t even slow down. He turned to the west, staying between the smaller pyramids and stone funeral structures of the cemetery. He led them toward the southern edge of the Great Pyramid.
Up close, Danny couldn’t believe the size of the blocks that the pyramid was constructed out of. They were taller in places than he was. He couldn’t believe people used to climb them for sport.
The four of them ran along the hardened tourist path that framed the south wall of the Great Pyramid, then on around to the west side. They ducked into the cover of the Western Cemetery, finally stopping in the shade near the north side of the Pyramid of Khafre.
Danny worked to catch his breath, and he could feel the heat making him light-headed.
“We’re going to need water,” Craig managed to choke out between sobbing breaths.
“Only if we live,” Danny said, his throat feeling like sandpaper had been scraped along the inside of it.
Suddenly, in a cloud of dust and sand, a cab appeared, bouncing off the main road and fishtailing over the dirt toward where they were hidden. Behind the wheel, Bud grinned like a kid enjoying a new Christmas present.
They all piled in almost before Bud had slid the cab to a stop. A moment later, he was accelerating out of the western parking area, headed toward the main road.
Danny had climbed into the front seat this time, and he turned to Bud. “Did they see you leave?”
“Nope,” he said. “They were up in the temple area and I doubt they even heard me start the cab.”
Danny leaned his head out the window and let the hot wind cool him some. Was this going to be the rest of his life? Staying just a few steps ahead of sure death and the han
ds of the Hydra League?
He hoped not, but if that was what it was going to take to save his father, then so be it.
“Now,” Bud said, shouting over the wind so everyone could hear, “anyone got a problem getting back to the bazaar? I have to get out of this cab before the police spot it. I have no desire to spend the next twenty years in jail while you four go on and find the treasure without me.”
“We’d visit you,” Craig said.
“Yeah,” Danny said, taking a deep breath and trying to get himself to relax a little. “As long as we’re alive.”
Continued next month…
As two of the other stories in this issue, this story had a short flash of a previous life in a small newspaper magazine that died right after this story was published and very few people saw the issue or the story.
And since the story fits the theme of this issue perfectly, I wanted to bring it back to life here.
In romance terms, this is a “meet-cute” story. The alien helps.
LOVE WITH THE PROPER NAPKIN
HELLO, SERIOUS AND BEAUTIFUL woman across the bar.
The drink is my treat and the bartender will point me out. Remember that old joke about an alien being a piece of paper and the paper is making love to your fingers? Well, it just came true for you. Honest.
Don't laugh.
The bar napkin that this message is written on is an alien called a Roggen. It snuck into the human area through the supply section of the hotel here on the station. It has the ability to split itself into thousands of little bar napkins as a disguise to watch and study humans. At this very moment it is making love to your fingers and I can tell from clear across the bar you are enjoying it.
Have fun,
Anna
ps...hope you enjoy the drink.
#
Dear Anna,
Thank you for the drink and introducing me to these great little aliens. What planet did you say they were from? I'd love to go there some day.
Enjoying the feel,
Carla
#
Dear Carla,
The alien this is written on says your name is beautiful.
The alien said the sun their planet circles is called BAC 151. Damned if I know where that is.
He said he revealed himself to only a few of us so as to not cause too much commotion around the human section of the hotel. He also likes the beautiful dress you are wearing and I agree with him.
Trying not to stare,
Anna
#
Dear Anna,
What do you suppose would happen to the poor alien if I stuck him down the front of my dress? Can he turn himself into anything???? Oh, the possibilities are endless.
Thank you for the nice compliment and I hope you enjoy the drink in return.
Staring back,
Carla
ps...don't you think the bartender is going to mind passing all these notes back and forth?
#
Dear Carla,
The bartender loves it. I'm giving the poor kid twenty hotel credits every time. He'll deliver notes until doomsday for that.
By the way, the alien says doomsday for this hotel isn't for a few thousand years. Good to know, huh?
Notice the guy next to me. He thinks I'm weird because I talk to bar napkins. He should talk. His cologne smells like it was scraped off a well-used saddle.
Holding my breath and trying not to laugh,
Anna
ps...is that an empty stool there beside you?
#
Dear Anna,
I don't think you're weird. In fact, I kind of like what the bar napkins are doing to my fingers. Would you call it "paper sex?" Just the thought has me hot.
I'm afraid the seat next to me is taken by my current date, who happens to be off talking to some friends about something boring like rebuilding a cargo ship or something stupid like that. At least he doesn't make me sit and listen to it.
Stroking the alien,
Carla
#
Dear Carla,
Did you see that guy who just asked me to dance? God, what are they letting into the hotel these days? Some of these humans belong over in the other sections, I am sure.
The alien told me the guy only wanted to chew on my panties. I guess the alien can read minds or something like that.
He told me the guy next to me wants to do something kinky with ropes. Can you believe that?
Ask your alien a question. Go ahead. He'll tell you inside your head. No one will hear.
Go ahead and try it,
Anna
#
Dear Anna,
My God, you were right. I damn near fell off my stool.
I asked the napkin what your last name was and this little voice inside my ear said "Hartzell." Is that right????
Then I got afraid to write on one of them and the napkin said to go ahead. He said he loved it. I thought I had seen everything the galaxy had to offer. I guess not.
Gone completely nuts,
Carla
#
Carla,
I was watching and laughing.
Yes, my last name is Hartzell. The alien says you want to know if I'm a lesbian. I'm bi, just like you. (The alien told me...no secrets with these little white things around, huh?) Is this place getting crowded and loud or what?
Is your boyfriend ever coming back? I want to see this guy.
Waiting and drooling,
Anna
#
Anna,
The napkin says the fool who is my date (or I am the fool for being his) is over at a table by the dance floor talking to a young woman named Brenda Dare. The napkin says this Brenda is totally drunk, has already spilled two drinks and my date is staring down her dress.
I think he deserves her.
What do you think?
Annoyed,
Carla
ps...this alien napkin says my now ex-date hopes to get both me and Brenda in bed together. Hah! What a joker he is.
#
Carla,
How about me? In bed, that is?
How's that for forward?
The alien said my skin temperature went up a half degree just writing that first line. See what you do to me from clear across the bar. Damn, I wish these napkins were bigger and this bar not so crowded.
Wondering what your voice sounds like,
Anna
ps...the alien said he would be happy to be any size I wanted. Too bad I can't find a man that flexible.
#
Anna,
Why don't you come on over? If that jerk of a date returns, I'll tell him to take a walk out an airlock without a suit.
And bring as many of those napkins as you can. This alien told me that with enough of his old self in one place, he could reform quickly into something that just might please both of us. He showed me an image of what he would look like and I agree.
Stuffing napkins in my purse and pockets,
Carla
#
Carla
On my way.
I tipped the bartender a hundred credits to deliver this last note and let us take as many napkins as we can carry. The alien showed me the same image and I damn near melted off my stool. What do you say we head for somewhere much quieter and far less crowded, such as my room?
Almost too excited to walk,
Anna
ps...the alien told me that the more napkins we take, the bigger he will be able to reform. I've got an armload. How about you?
USA Today bestselling writer, Dean Wesley Smith, returns to a not-so-distant future in his acclaimed Seeder’s Universe series of novels and stories.
Mattie Silks must team up with the most unlikely of partners to save the sector from a ruthless dictator. Her only problem, besides saving the galaxy, comes from the man she must work with. She can’t keep her hands off him.
And he can’t seem to keep his hands off her either.
But with or without
love, the two of them must save the galaxy.
SECTOR JUSTICE
CHAPTER ONE
MATTIE SILKS SLIPPED through the milling crowd of the Bodie Station shopping mall and put her back against the wall of what looked to be an arcade of games to keep the kids of the shopping adults entertained. She then moved down along the wall to an area between the arcade and a dress shop divided by a small group of strange trees whose leaves seemed to move in an unseen and unfelt breeze.
At five-two, crowds bothered Mattie just about as much as anything bothered her. As a trained enforcer, one of the best in Sector Force Three, she feared almost nothing physical, if she saw it coming. But in crowds, she couldn’t see over the top of anything and with all the movement it was hard to sense when something dangerous was about to attack.
She liked having her back against a wall. That way she could see, but often would never be noticed. With her lack of height in a society that thought six foot tall almost short, she was noticeable in a crowd. Against a wall next to some decorative trees, she just looked normal and could blend in.
In fact, her tan slacks, tan vest over a plain blouse almost blended perfectly with the paint of the wall. She had on hard-toed, but comfortable, flat shoes that she could both run and fight in. Over the years she had stopped a few fleeing criminals with a simple kick.
She studied the people going past. Not a one of them seemed to even glance her way. Perfect.
Standing that close to a kids’ arcade also helped her blend in since her blouse kept her breasts pressed close and her thin frame made her sometimes seem more like a teenager. She had often used teenage disguises to get close to a target.
The people streaming past were all dressed for vacation in bright colors and flowered patterns, many wearing shorts as if this station was a place in the tropics somewhere. It seemed like a painter had tossed into a flowing river a bunch of bright, primary colors that weren’t blending.
Smith's Monthly #5 Page 8
