Rakitaki: A Jonas Quartermain Adventure

by Lee Alexander

  “Vlad Tepes.”

  “Yes, I have heard of you. Or rather, your nickname. The Impaler, as I recall.”

  Vlad nodded, then gestured at him.

  “And you are?”

  “My name is…” he started. He had gone by many over the years. One of his favorites was a diminutive of his own. “Takh.”

  “Welcome to Wallachia, Takh. What brings you here?”

  “I have been travelling for a very long time, looking for people I can trust.”

  Four thousand years, in fact. He looked out the nearby window of the castle across the landscape. Wallachia was beautiful, so lush and green compared to the sands of Egypt. The new calendar used by the Romans claimed the year to be 1452. He turned back to the man.

  “I bring a gift. Something that can make use of your talents. In exchange, you must give up something, but I can assure you, you will not miss it.”

  Jonas removed the bracelet and put it into the right-hand drawer of his desk. He wiped his brow, trying to clear the sweat from watching memories for over an hour. He felt sick to his stomach. The horror that Atakheramen had become escaped captivity, imprisonment, and even entombment dozens of times. Each time his pyramid was improved. He had been burned, hacked to pieces, devoured, skewered, dropped in acid, shot, even crushed flat. Every time he had returned to the horrific imitation of life.

  “How? How am I supposed to fight something like that?”

  He grabbed a mug of coffee from his personal pot, not caring that it had likely been cold for a day or more. He slugged it back, relishing in the bitter taste. It centered him, bringing him firmly into his present.

  “Mister Quartermain?” Calhoun called from just outside the tent.

  Jonas nearly dropped the mug. He shot a look at the drawer holding the bracelet, then weakly replied.

  “Y-yeah?”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Yes, sir.” Jonas sighed heavily. He had to find a way to explain his state to his mentor. Calhoun opened the heavy flap and walked in. He looked around at the orderly tent, then at Jonas standing next to the desk.

  “What happened? You were supposed to have a nap.”

  “I had bad dreams. I’ve uh… been having a hard time lately,” he replied. He was shocked how easy the lie came. He supposed it was close enough to the truth that the difference hardly mattered.

  “It looks like you’ve been crying. Miss home?”

  Mutely, Jonas nodded. Again, it was close enough to the truth. He stared at the sludgy coffee in his mug. His stomach turned, and he dumped the remains into the pot, then walked around Calhoun to toss the liquid into the sand outside his tent. He returned to the coffee maker and set about making a fresh pot.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Jonas stared at the percolating coffee maker, shaking his head. Then he started to speak, hardly realizing it.

  “I feel like I’m in way over my head. Not one, but two major finds in a short time. But I’m having trouble with the… the paperwork.”

  “That’s understandable,” Calhoun said. He sat on the edge of the cot that served as Jonas’ bed. “There is a hell of a lot of it.”

  Jonas nodded again, starting to feel like a bobble head. Another minute passed and there was enough coffee in the pot for a fresh mug. Trying to be kind, he offered the first to Calhoun.

  “Oh, no thanks. I’ve already had my fill today,” he said as he waved his student off with his hand then patted his stomach.

  Jonas nodded and poured his cup. He sat in his chair, unconsciously looking at the drawer as he did so. He took a sip and hissed as he burned his lip and tongue.

  “Damn, too hot.” He blew on the coffee, watching the steam rise, then spoke again. “What should I do?”

  “We’re almost done with all three digs. There hasn’t been anything new found at the old sites in some time. This one is just about tapped as well, with the ruined city excavated. As soon as the palace is cleared out, we’ll do the paperwork to save it as a historical site and probably never see it again. All we have to do is last the week, then turn everything in to the museum.” Calhoun looked at Jonas across the desk.

  “I can manage that.”

  “We should get back to the dig, do our jobs as supervisors. Take your time, but not too long. Clean yourself up too.” Calhoun brushed his legs off, then stood. He nodded once and left the tent.

  “Thanks,” Jonas said to the empty tent. He looked at the drawer again, then down at his coffee. He slowly drank the rest of the mug, then washed his face before leaving the tent and returning to work.

  52

  The rest of the week flew by. The palace was excavated by a team of diggers. The outside of the low-building was in rough shape, and Jonas marveled at it. The Ancient Egyptians were masters of building long lasting structures. The city was a sight to behold, though they never did find the other wells. Even in the memories granted by the bracelet, he never learned what happened to them. He guessed the wells had collapsed from disuse, instead of being capped like the one that remained.

  He stood on the rise outside of the city and looked over it, his right hand playing with the lighter. More than a hundred buildings had been uncovered. Sunrise made the sight even more impressive, but he didn’t have time to wait. He reflexively stretched his left hand. It was still stiff, though the burn was healing well. Calhoun still made him change the bandage daily, even though it hadn’t discharged anything in two days. He put the lighter away and made his way back down to his tent to finish packing.

  “I can’t believe it’s over. Back to Cairo, a day or two left there, and then home. I can’t believe it’s May already.” Jonas sighed as he put the last of the paperwork into a legal box for the trip back to the city. Calhoun moved boxes from the tent to a van outside. He looked pale, though not sweaty. Jonas brushed it off, thinking the man might feel a little under the weather. The van was idling outside and men were waiting impatiently to dismantle the tent he had used as an office. Calhoun grunted, then lifted two boxes stuffed with paperwork and carried them out to the van.

  It was early morning, the sun threatening to spill over the horizon at any moment. Jonas grabbed the last box and hurried after Calhoun. Once the paperwork was secured, they got into the van. Daylight broke across the sandy horizon, illuminating everything at once.

  “Beautiful,” he remarked.

  Calhoun sighed, then nodded. “Let’s go,” he said in his characteristic growl. The van lurched as it was put in gear, then they were speeding off across the sand and toward the city. The ride was relatively quiet, despite jostling over rough roads with squeaky shocks. They arrived at the museum first.

  “Mister Quartermain, please go let Mister Korekiyo know we have arrived with the paperwork. He will send someone out to unload.”

  Jonas nodded, then opened the sliding door. Calhoun watched through the window as he shut the door, then sat back and opened a newspaper. Jonas climbed the steps to the museum and walked into the lobby. Despite the early hour, it was already busy. He approached the information desk and waited his turn. When he was finally addressed, he asked for Souka. The young woman behind the desk nodded then picked up a phone and spoke into it briefly. She gestured off to the side and asked him to wait.

  A minute later Souka showed up and greeted Jonas warmly.

  “Jonas, what a pleasure to see you.”

  “You as well, Souka,” he said as he shook the man’s offered hand. “I have paperwork waiting for you in the van.”

  “Ah, yes. I’ll have someone attend to that. Is your Professor Calhoun around as well?” Souka asked as he signaled for the woman to call someone to unload the files.

  “Yeah, but he stayed behind. Maybe he’s not feeling well? He looked a little pale this morning.”

  “Too bad, he could have joined us on the quick tour I’m going to give you. The exhibit has come a long way!” Souka excitedly talked about how it had shaped up thanks to Jonas’ team. They walked through the lab
yrinthine hallways, chatting amiably, until they arrived at the familiar red curtains. He held the divider open for the younger man, then followed him in. The lights were already on, and the exhibit was awe inspiring.

  They had a wax statue based on one of the slaves that had been unearthed in the well in one corner. Elsewhere, the stuffed jackal from his first trip had been joined by a pack and circled a campfire. Pottery of a dozen different types sat behind gleaming plastic or glass barriers. Jewelry glittered on a mockup of the fallen wife. Jonas was surprised how close to reality the depiction had come. Her nose was subtly wrong, the jaw not quite as he remembered, but her eyes were perfect.

  “Who was she,” he asked of his friend.

  “We don’t know. Royalty, as I’m sure you know. But she was never buried, and as such we have no idea what her name was.”

  “That’s sad. Forgotten like that,” Jonas said as he reached out toward the glass. She seemed almost alive.

  “I don’t think that’s true. She may have been forgotten for a long time, but now she will live on as a prominent figure in the exhibit. Her jewelry was exquisite.” Souka pointed at the woman’s arms and neck as he spoke.

  Jonas looked over the jewelry. The crown was not in evidence, but he saw the collar, nearly all the bangles and bracelets, and even the rings. One bracelet was missing, though, and he knew why. His hand idly touched the bangle through the fabric of his vest. He hadn’t let it get far from him since he discovered it showed him the past.

  “You know, I never did figure out what happened to that other body that was supposed to be delivered here,” Souka said offhandedly.

  “What body?” Jonas turned to look at the other man. He was so lost in his thoughts he couldn’t understand the sudden change of topic.

  “One of the bodies from the well at the Murdus site. Your report listed seven found, four lost. Oh, and two others from the first dig- the pyramid site.”

  “Yeah, the well collapse was…” he trailed off and shuddered at the memory. “But what do you mean you were expecting another? Did you not get three from the recent dig? Did anybody say what happened to them?”

  “Well, one of our workers claimed one body fell to ashes in his hands. Of course, that’s not how it works at all. Bodies, even ancient ones, don’t just crumble away.” Souka turned and continued walking through the exhibit hall, examining displays as he talked over his shoulder.

  “Yeah, I had that happen too. I haven’t been able to explain it, but I can confirm that at least two bodies fell apart like that.” Jonas had a sinking feeling.

  “Interesting, Jonas. I will re-evaluate the statement of the event. The employee was fired and charged with fraud. We thought he brought someone’s aunt’s ashes and sold the real body for a tidy profit.” Souka waved his hand. “It’s fine, we’ll manage without the three bodies.”

  “Do you still have the ashes?”

  “No, they were disposed of with proper hazmat protocol.”

  Jonas shook his head. “Follow up on that. I bet they’re missing.”

  Souka stopped and looked at Jonas.

  “Why do you say that? What do you think happened to them?”

  Jonas looked around the empty hall. Then he lowered his voice to a whisper. “I think they’re being sold as a drug.”

  Souka nodded sagely. “Yes, I recall you mentioning a drug. You think it is the ashes from the bodies?”

  “Yeah, I think so. I mean, back in Ancient Egypt they regularly used mummified remains to take power. What if that was more literal than we thought?”

  “And you think people are doing this recreationally?”

  “Well, Hatem, the man who invited me, had the symptoms of Rakitaki overdose. He and the dancer burst into flames a few minutes later, on the road. Sunlight killed them.”

  “Well, there are two problems here. One is that this sounds like a fantastical imagining. Hardly believable, but I get the feeling you’re telling me the truth as you see it.”

  “And the second?” Jonas asked.

  “Who had the means, motive, and opportunity to steal the ashes from the first dig, let alone a second or third time?”

  “There were diggers obviously. There could have been a group of them stealing the ashes. That doesn’t make much sense though, with how terrified they seemed to be of the Pharaoh. I think I was the only person at the site all three times… except one other.”

  “Let me guess,” Souka said. “Calhoun.”

  “Professor Calhoun,” Jonas said at the same time.

  53

  Souka shook his head. “No, I don’t think Calhoun would do that. He is a rough person, for sure. But he does not lack honor.”

  “Don’t get angry with me for this,” Jonas said haltingly.

  “Angry with you for what?”

  Jonas slowly withdrew the bracelet. Souka’s eyes bugged out.

  “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Yes. I… ‘borrowed’ the bracelet to investigate it further. Man, I’m going to sound totally nutso when I say this.” He sighed. “It shows me memories.”

  Souka looked at him in shock.

  “It’s true. I actually know her name.”

  “That is impossible,” he said as he crossed his arms.

  “It’s Madsenen.”

  “That… that could actually work. It was a woman’s name a long time ago. I think you better tell me everything.”

  “Is there somewhere we can grab a coffee? It’ll probably take a while. And there’s Calhoun to worry about.”

  “Let me worry about that. Follow me to my office, we can talk there.”

  They quickly walked out of the exhibit hall, down another set of hallways, and through a doorway. On one side was the opulence of the museum, a set meant to impress, while on the other was the stark reality of business. White-washed walls and simple doors led to offices. Some had a single plaque, while others held up to a dozen. They arrived at the door labeled ‘M. Korekiyo’.

  Souka opened the door with a key, then gestured to the empty chair in front of the desk. Instead of taking the seat behind the desk, he turned his phone around and spoke briefly to someone on the other end. Then he sat in the other guest chair and looked at Jonas.

  “Alright, coffee will be here shortly. I think it’s time you told me the full story. I don’t believe I listened very well last time.”

  Jonas began hesitantly. The more he spoke, however, the faster the story tumbled out. Souka listened quietly, patiently. He didn’t interrupt often, and only to clarify a jumbled word or concept when he did ask questions. It took ten minutes to cover the basics. A knock sounded on the office door and Jonas jumped in his seat. Souka put a finger to his lips to signal for silence, then a hand with palm down for stillness. He stood and opened the door, careful to shield Jonas from outside.

  He said something, then turned around with a coffee mug in each hand. He gently kicked the door shut, handed over a mug, and sat down.

  “Please, continue. I am starting to understand.”

  Jonas launched back in. He would often break to sip from his coffee, an action that brought him comfort. He spoke for ten more minutes before he arrived at Souka handing over the business card for Toran Tufekci. He then explained running into Professor Souleiman during the second meeting.

  “I have worked with Professor Souleiman many times over the past decade, and had more than a few dealings with Mister Tufekci, and yet I never knew they were well acquainted.”

  Jonas put his coffee cup down, then took the bracelet out again. He’d held onto it, but he had yet to get the strength and courage to put it on since seeing Atakheramen meet with Vlad Draculae. Romania’s vampire legend appeared truer than ever, and it was because of the vile being that had created the bangle.

  Souka noticed Jonas fidgeting with the bangle, and understood what the young man had said about taking it. He began to form the question, then stopped. Jonas explained anyway.

  “When I touched her hand, it broke off.
The bangle touched me and I felt a surge of energy. Kind of like when I was on the raki.”

  “I see. You mentioned before that you were shown memories?” Souka looked pointedly at the bangle in his hands as he asked. Jonas handed it over, then began to recount the memories he had seen.

  As he listened, Souka examined the bracelet. The craftsmanship of the bracelet was extremely high quality. Few artifacts had been recovered of the same level of quality. He turned it over to look at the inside of the band and paused.

  “Jonas, have you translated the cuneiform on the inside of the band?”

  Caught off guard, he faltered in his retelling. After a pause, he spoke. “I translated the hieroglyphics around the ruby, they say everlasting life.”

  That caught Souka off guard in turn. “Are you sure it doesn’t mean ‘afterlife’?”

  “Positive. The glyphs are wrong for that. It means immortality, if you want a looser definition.”

  “Interesting. However, I was talking about the cuneiform runes.” Souka turned the bangle and pointed at the wedge-like runes impressed on the inside of the band.

  “Is that what that is? Can you read it?”

  He shook his head sadly. “I can’t. We don’t have a cuneiform expert here currently. Interesting to see Sumerian script on an Egyptian artifact. Seeing them used together is unusual.”

  “I wonder what it says,” Jonas mused. “Anyway, do you want to hear the rest of the memories?”

  “Oh, yes, of course.” Souka handed the bangle back to the young man. Jonas thanked him and tucked into his vest, then went to take another sip of his coffee and realized it was empty. He looked at it sadly, then sat it on the desk as well. Souka grabbed the handset for his phone and requested more coffee. Once he put the phone down, he gestured for Jonas to continue.

  “Right. Where was I?” Jonas mulled over what he’d already told. After a moment of thought he launched back into his narrative. He covered the dozens of times he’d witnessed Atakheramen escape captivity and death. He faltered when he came to the latest memory. Then, before he could lose his nerve, he blurted it out.