However Nectanebo was a man to be reckoned with.
According to legend, with the aid of his magical powers, Nectanebo roundly defeated the great Persian king Artaxerxes, an astonishingly unexpected result, and then succeeded in ruling the land of Egypt for a considerable time in peace.
Until the day came when scouts arrived to warn him of a powerful confederacy of eastern nations who had united with Persia and were marching against him under the command of Artaxerxes himself.
Nectanebo is reported to have laughed at the news and dismissed the attackers scornfully. With the services of Greek generals Diophantus and Lamius at his side, he had already won out once before against formidable opposition, crushing the Persians. Now he felt himself to be invincible.
In his typical fashion he took himself alone to his chamber, and there, filling a special bowl with water and employing the use of wax ships and men to control his enemies, he raised his ebony rod above the bowl and recited great words of power.
But it was time for Nectanebo’s luck to unravel.
As he stared at the wax figures, he saw to his dismay that the tide of fortune was turning and unseen forces were steering the enemies’ ships, and leading their soldiers to war against him.
He saw the writing on the water, realising that the sovereignty of Egypt was doomed. He is said to have quit the chamber hastily, shaved off his hair and his beard and taken ship in flight.
Untrue, Anson thought. Nectabeo engaged Artaxerxes in battle and fought valiantly, though in the end he was outnumbered and had to flee.
Why didn’t he abandon it in Egypt? Perhaps he hoped to return to Egypt to expel Artaxerxes. Perhaps the disc of power played a part in his plans.
Sunrise splintered light over the rim of the earth and into the temple doorway.
Anson, Neith and her party of New Agers stood among a throng of visitors who waited in the pre-dawn chill of the Great Temple of Abu Simbel in Egyptian Nubia.
“Here it comes!” someone in the crowd whispered.
Light beams ran a gauntlet of sixty metres between a double line of eight Osiride pillars in the image of Rameses the Great bearing flails and crooks in their crossed arms, to penetrate the holy of holies, where a group of divinities sat enthroned in darkness.
There were gasps and sighs from the international assembly of visitors.
Gasp away, Anson thought. Not in awe at the mighty works of Rameses, nor in wonder at the achievement of temple axiality and the symmetry of sun and stone that for thousands of years had produced this phenomenon on just two days of the year. But rather, in dread at what the moment symbolised.
The excitement of temple-invading birds rose to fill the sacred spaces of Abu Simbel’s roof, echoing, high-pitched squeals and screeches. He imagined the sound came from the statues at the back of the sanctuary, waking from their sleep and moving stiffened joints - stone shrieking on stone.
Ptah. Amun. Rameses. Ra-Horakhty.
Over the minutes, as all watched, sunlight transmuted stone into gold - the flesh of the gods - bathing three of the images in turn, while the fourth, Ptah, a deity of darkness, remained in shadow.
Pharaoh Rameses, flanked by Amun and Ra-Horakhty, transformed in front of their eyes from stone into fire and glory. The brightness made Anson blink.
The solar drama, taking place in front of this audience, was meant to celebrate a glory beyond the earthly variety, greater even than the scenes of triumph carved on the walls of the temple that showed Rameses smiting a multitude of foes.
This was a physical enactment of divine illumination, the moment of man seizing godhood, and this event of sublime transfiguration lay at the heart of the peril that the world now faced.
The warning came back to prod him.
History will soon be made. A new dawn for humankind approaches. The beginning of the end for today’s world order is at hand as a force of hidden power will emerge and precipitate the fall. Hear this prophetic warning to all the nations. On this day, the roots of the old ideology will wither and die and a new order of the ages will commence. Rise to a new illumination.
Crank prophecy? Or a real threat to today’s world?
Did it refer to the Sekhmet relic?
Neith stepped out from the group and moved into the shaft of light.
It transformed her naked head, turning it into a burning orb.
Anson gaped at the spectacle.
She smiled about her as if she had orchestrated the temple’s solar synchronism personally.
“A new dawn, friends and delegates. Not only for Rameses, but also for our understanding of the past and our vision of the future. Thank you for being a guest of journey into an ancient past and a New Age.”
Chapter 30
ANSON LISTENED to the sounds of the two-masted antique houseboat, a sleek, forty-five-metre long dahabiyyah yacht that was wafting him gently down the Nile.
Amazingly, there was no sound.
He looked out at the throngs of palms and acid-green fields sliding by and further in the distance the caramel hills of the desert. Compared to the normal cruise boat, it was like watching a travelogue with the sound button switched to mute, showing a timeless vista.
No, wait, there were sounds if he listened carefully… There, a rope creak and the flutter of a lateen sail in the breeze and there the soft slurp and swish of the prow as it sucked at Mother Nile.
Further back, a soft buzz of conversation, a female laugh. The Chantresses of Amun were out on the upper sun deck worshipping Ra, their bodies anointed with costly oils and high SPF creams and offered up in bikinis bountifully filled for the god’s satisfaction. Or delectation.
Very distracting when there was a view on offer like this, Anson thought. I hope they don’t come to my first talk on board dressed like that. It was hard enough for him to focus his mind when his senses were surrendering to the languor of river travel under sail.
Hard for them too, he supposed. Why go below deck to listen to some guest speaker banging on about ancient Egypt when history was whispering to you on a blue-green river?
This mode of travel was about more than getting from A to B or from Aswan to Dendera, it was a transport of the senses. Hypnotic.
Yet they were keen to hear him, Neith had assured him and, over a breakfast of guava juice, coffee, eggs of their choice, pancakes and honey, the discussion had been about little else.
He recalled how, true to her word, she had taken him along to a three-hour meditation in the holy of holies, in the sanctuary of Isis at the island temple of Philae at Aswan.
The group had held hands and chanted sacred vowels along with many repetitions of the name “Isis, Isis, Isis” in a chamber dominated by her altar and images of the goddess carved in relief on the walls, holding an ankh and a papyrus staff, her sinuous form bathed in a greenish tinge by strip floor lights.
Afterwards, alone, he had used the opportunity to probe.
Tell me something, Neith. Why did you pick me for your cruise? There must be a dozen alternative alternatives, people who are a lot more fringe than I am. What do you really want from me?”
“Just the fruit of your mind and for you to share your theories on a subject that’s of burning interest to our group - Sekhmet-Hathor and her role in the fiery cleansing of the earth.”
As he stood on the deck of the dahabiyyah, two feluccas, lashed side by side, worked their way slowly upriver, decks laden with newly made clay pots.
It was good to be on the river again.
Historians argued about how the ancient Egyptian civilisation had managed to last for millennia, while others, at best, lasted a century or two, and yet the answer was right here, sliding past.
The Nile.
Egypt was the first civilisation connected by a superhighway, a network of networks linking sites of temples, palaces, government, markets, industry, construction and education. It was a physical Internet and engine of economic, religious and technical growth, and of continuity.
The
voice of Boy Wonder behind him broke into his thoughts.
“We were wondering. Should we start to head to the lounge for your talk?”
Chapter 31
THE CHANTRESSES of Amun had dressed for the occasion after their sun worshipping ritual, he noted, and he felt an air of expectation fill the lounge as the passengers gathered in chairs and couches. Neith sat in a wicker chair nearest him, her long legs folded.
They’d set up a PowerPoint projector and screen in the room, the colonial main lounge, a large salon with exposed beams and wooden columns supporting the deckhouse roof.
He drew an object out of a pocket and tossed it casually in the air.
He saw their faces tense.
The fragility of an egg in the air did that to people as they waited for the collision of friable shell with hard wooden floor.
He caught it, tossing it higher and higher and catching it each time. He’d purloined the egg at breakfast.
“The egg. Ironically, the eight chaos gods chose, in contrast to the turmoil of creation, to produce the calmest shape in the universe, the ovoid, or egg, round yet oriented, latent yet pointed, at once architectural and organic… perfection. Imagine this is the original egg of creation that gave birth to the first golden dawn… an egg with a yellow nuclear heart… the birth of the sun god Ra.
“Of course this is a hen’s egg and chickens were unknown in ancient Egypt. So this would have been a duck’s egg if you were juggling an egg back in those days. But if you can imagine this to be the egg of creation, then you can probably make the stretch from hen to duck.”
He caught the egg gently and held it up between in his fingers.
“The egg was a powerful symbol to the Egyptians that they would drop a clay egg from the prow of a skiff in the marshes, charged with the power of the egg of the Ogdoad, to overcome that archetypal creature of watery chaos, the crocodile…
“How do you like your egg, folks? Pick any creation theory you like and this ovoid or circular shape lies at the heart of it.
“There’s the Ogdoad story of the eight swimming creatures, snake- and frog-like beings, who created the primordial egg.
“There’s the Big Bang theory… around 13.7 billion years ago, our whole universe was bounded like an atomic egg in the orbed mass we call a nucleus, in the moment before creation when space and time did not yet exist... and then…”
He tossed the egg up high, but instead of cupping his fingers to catch it, he pulled his hand back. The egg hit and crunched.
“….the so-called ‘ineffable explosion’ occurred.”
There were a few gasps and nervous laughter.
“A small bang in this case. And no mess. It’s hardboiled, out of consideration for the cleaning staff. The circular egg shape even lies at the bottom of Genesis. The texts suggest that the pre-existent firmament lay in a bubble - another egg of a sort - in the midst of the waters, before God divided the waters that were under the firmament from the waters above.
“We might also see echoes of Darwinian evolution in the eight egg-laying reptilian creatures that crawled out of the primordial slime, but that’s another story of creation.”
He pressed a button on his remote and an image of the eight gods of the Ogdoad appeared in illustrated form, men with fog-like heads, women with the thin necks and the squat, diamond heads of snakes.
“It’s also interesting to note that the same four elements of creation embodied in the four male and female pairs of the Ogdoad are evident in the opening descriptions of Genesis - darkness, water, wind and the infinite. Other Egyptologists have noted the parallels. Nun and Naunet, who personify the primordial ocean, corresponds to the Hebrew word for ‘the deep.’ Kek and Kauket, personify the darkness attending the primordial state, like the Hebrew ‘darkness.’ Heh and Hauhet echo the boundlessness and infinity of the Hebrew terms for ‘formlessness’ and ‘emptiness.’ Amun and Amaunet, personify air and wind and parallel the Hebrew ‘mighty wind.’ Amun who transcends the eight, is depicted as the wind that stirs up the water and darkness of the void to begin the coagulation of matter in creation.
“Why my egg juggling act? To get your attention. But also to turn your thoughts back to a primordial time, the First Time and to the age of Ra. Let’s now talk about Sekhmet-Hathor and the birth of a new holocaust sun of chaos.”
The lobbyist Kraft joined Anson, Scott and Neith at table in the dining salon over dinner of duck and salads.
Kraft leaned forward, frowning, as if he found the table an unwelcome barrier between himself and Anson opposite.
“Your talk today failed with me,” he murmured.
“Sorry. I didn’t convince you about the dangers of an apocalypse?”
“Oh, you did fine there, but then I am already convinced about dangers from the ancient past, about loci of power, techno-shamanism, execration texts and the rest. No, you failed to convince me why we should care a fig about this event, a necessary step to a new world order.”
“I suppose world mayhem would make things easier for you if you lobby for the military-industrialist complex.”
“You think that’s my motivation? You think I’m some kind of anarchist or nihilist?”
“Then to the beat of which drum do you march? Certainly not to God’s, I take it. And the devil’s? You probably laugh at him too.”
“There exists a hierarchy of beings, Masters who are leading humankind in a new direction. You must know that.”
“And let me guess, Christianity has no role in this new direction, to be replaced by the mystery religions. Democracy - that’s gone too. It will be rule by a new elite. Do you include yourself among them?”
“I can hope, but I have my doubts about you.”
“Good. And please don’t bother to keep me a place in your new world order.”
“We must respect the fact that Anson has his own ideas,” Neith said in a soft tone to defuse the tension. “Although I’m hoping to prise his grip off some outdated belief systems.”
“Anyone want to say Grace?” Anson said.
“Why do you imagine the god of Abraham and Moses would be so hostile to magic?” Kraft asked. “And please don’t give me the Sunday School answer: ‘because the Bible tells me so’. The Bible also tells us that the three Magi, root of the word magic and magicians, came to visit the Christ child and that they found their way to him by no other means than astrology, following a star. Joseph of the multi-coloured-coat managed to rescue himself from prison in Egypt by the powers of dream divinisation… and so on. Not until the end of the Renaissance did the world see magic as dangerous superstition. In fact the Egyptians may have believed that magic was an antecedent to creation. Spell twenty-six of the Coffin Texts, says that magic, or heka, existed: before duality had yet come into being. Or, as the old dictum goes, God was a latecomer to the history of religion. Presumably, as a theorist you value the power of imagination. Yet ‘imagination’, like the word ‘magic’ and ‘magnetism’ comes from the root word ‘mag’, so your imagination is nothing more than alchemical mind magic, turning base material into gold. Do you suppose God hates that too?”
“I don’t know. His mind is not entirely transparent to me.”
Space Invader, pressing against the table, went on.
“It is time that the world broke the hold of old tyrannical belief systems. How can people believe in such an inconsistent concept as God?”
“Inconsistent?”
“Yes, in the Old Testament, he appears as a vengeful, bloodthirsty ogre, while in the New Testament he becomes a god of love and forgiveness. How do you explain that?”
“The civilising influence of religion.”
“Funny.”
“I suppose man and God were operating under a different covenant. In the Old Testament, there was the law and when you broke it you were punished. In the New
Testament, a redeemer took the world’s sins on himself.”
“Why the patch job? Couldn’t God see that a redeemer was going t
o be necessary? Presumably you would think of God as being all powerful and all knowing?”
“That would be a reasonable characterisation,” Anson said.
“Then why does he keep botching everything? He places man in the Garden of Eden and what happens? Man breaks his commandments and eats the apple of knowledge. Whoops, didn’t see that coming! All knowing? Does your god have severely compromised powers? Then you have a severely compromised religion.”
“The only thing that’s compromised is our understanding,” Anson said. “You can shake elements of theology, attempts to know the unknowable, but you’ll find it a bit harder to shake the idea and reality of the Nazarene.”
Kraft switched his attack.
“You believe that this Sekhmet artefact, the Atenet, is a dangerous artefact?”
“That’s my theory.”
“Yet you’re determined to find it, believing what you do? Have you considered the consequences?”
“I haven’t got that far.”
“But you must have thought it through, man!” He surprised Anson by dropping his knife and fork onto his plate and holding out his hands dramatically, meaty hands grasping an imaginary disc, a light of challenge in his eyes. “Imagine it. You’ve got it right now, in your hands, a disc of gold, your holocaust sun. What now?”
“Maybe he’ll sell it on the illegal antiquities market,” Boy Wonder said, as if Anson were not there.
“I’m no antiquities thief.”
“Maybe his interests are academic, and that’s what he is at heart.”
“I’m certainly no academic.”
“You would unleash its contents on the world so you can write a blog, or a book?” Kraft said in a scornful manner, leaning in close. “You claim to be one who takes ancient beliefs seriously. But then you pursue this quest, regardless of who may suffer the consequences, and you look down on academics because they are dispassionate people who do not engage experientially with such matters. What are your real motives?”
THE HATHOR HOLOCAUST Page 20
