Oasis of Eden
By Genella deGrey
Resplendence Publishing, LLC
http://www.resplendencepublishing.com
Resplendence Publishing, LLC
2665 S Atlantic Avenue, #349
Daytona Beach, FL 32118
Oasis of Eden
Copyright © 2011, Genella deGrey
Edited by Jennifer Erwine and Veronica Petroelje
Cover art by Les Byerley, www.les3photo8.com
Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-296-9
Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Electronic release: May 2011
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.
Acknowledgement
It’s funny how things happen every now and then. It seems that some of our greatest blunders end up being inevitably fortuitous. Such is the story you are about to read of Jade Anne Poole.
On a completely different note, I’d like to thank Theresa Stevens, the first industry professional to encourage my writing.
Chapter One
Just north of Karnak, Egypt, 1923
What Jade wouldn’t do for a flask of gin and a hot Dixieland tune to erase the boredom right about now. Sadly, the only item available from her wish list was “hot”. The sun was relentless in the Sahara, even in February. She shifted in her seat, the backs of her legs sticking to the leather, and tightened the scarf which held her straw hat in place. The least they could have done was send a covered car. She never saw value in how the sun affected her skin, no matter what Coco Chanel and her tan did for fashion.
Jade shook her head. She must have had a momentary lapse in judgment when she’d decided to leave Chicago for a trip to Egypt to pay a visit her late father’s find. What was I thinking?
Oh, yes. Now I remember. This little hobby of Pop’s was threatening to deplete his entire estate—her entire estate—of funds. Although Pop had provided her with an ample allowance in the four years before his death, now she was in charge, and this silly sifting around in the sand needed to stop.
“Not long now,” the weathered driver said in Egyptian. “Another hour or so.”
Jade gave the driver a half-hearted smile.
Mum had passed on years ago, and when Jade had come of age, Pop had decided not to take her with him to dig up his trinkets and such. So she’d been left to dawdle about at the University of Chicago—she grinned in retrospect—where she took her sweet time with her studies and danced at the rubs as often as possible. She’d burnt her corset, shimmied her way around campus, and made time with the boys. Ah, the carefree life of a flapper. Primly folding her gloved hands in her lap, she tapped her toe to a catchy ragtime number that popped into her head.
Jade’s pleasant thoughts skidded to a halt like a needle scrapping across a phonograph record. Her gaze focused on the dessert, and her lips twisted into a sour pout. Two things needed to happen during this impromptu North African excursion. She was determined to break up the current dig and send everyone home.
Her other assignment, given to her by her girlfriends put a smile, on her face every time she thought about it. “Poolie,” Each of their gang had a handle, a nick-name, and Poolie was hers. “You simply must have a bit of fun with some foreign cuddler. And take notes, honey. We’re dyin’ to know how they’re doin’ it in Egypt these days.” But just where she would find a petting party full of acceptably handsome flaming youths here in no man’s land was beyond her.
Smothering a wicked giggle with her gloved fingertips, she thought of the illicit parties she and her girlfriends had attended. Life had been utterly dull before college. There were few pleasures in life, and the sparse fare set before a body should be scooped up with both hands—at least, that had been her philosophy since moving into the girls dormitory her first year at U of C.
She glanced at her driver and suffered a shudder of revulsion. No pleasurable opportunities were to be had in the near future, that was for certain.
* * * *
Almost an hour later, they pulled off the main road. It was dusk by the time she was shown to a private tent across the way from her late father’s former colleague, Doctor Harper. Looking out over the encampment, she noticed that it simply buzzed with activity, all paid for by her father’s estate. She really hated to be a wet blanket anywhere, but bringing an end to the dig was critical for her survival, and better sooner rather than later.
At a small porcelain basin in her canvas quarters, Jade washed the desert floor from her skin, then set out to find a bite to eat and, hopefully, some distillate libation in the mess tent. She wasn’t really a corn fiend; liquor, or giggle juice as she and her little gang of gals called it, had a way of banishing the doldrums—and if there existed anything duller than this, she’d be quite surprised.
“Doctor Harper. So lovely to see you again.” Jade smiled, although she was bone-weary and too tired to chew the food set before her.
“Dear Jade Anne. I’m so glad you’ve arrived safely. Was your journey pleasant?” he asked, using the name he and her father used to call her when she was a little girl. He took the seat opposite her. The same age as her father, Doctor Edward Harper sported thin white hair over red, parched skin, with a set of fuzzy cheeks and chin to match. His kind brown eyes regarded her like a loving uncle’s.
Pleasant? Not remotely. More like boring. “Yes, it was.” And can we get this over with as soon as possible so I can get back to misbehavin’? Jade considered herself an expert at saying one thing and hiding her real thoughts at the same time, which she considered a necessary evil in life. She didn’t do it to deceive him, merely put the older man at ease. There was no reason to tell him she craved more stimulating company than what she’d suffered in the last week or so.
“And how are your studies going? Hark!” He cupped a hand to his ear. “Is that the familiar strains of Pomp and Circumstance I hear?”
She couldn’t help but smile at his dry, intellectual humor.
He chuckled and continued. “Before your father passed, he told me you had not only excelled, but were filling in for professors here and there.”
Darling Pops. Her father never failed to talk her up. “Aw, he exaggerated, really. I filled in twice for Doctor Grant in Egyptian, and only once in his hieroglyphics class.” She shook her head. “Truly, it was nothing.”
He laughed and reached for a piece of flat bread. “Not many people can do that, you know.”
Jade shrugged. “Not many people learned their alphabet along with deciphering Egyptian hieroglyphics, either.”
“Yes, well you were no ordinary child.”
Her cheeks heated from his praise as if the sun was at its apex—something which normally didn’t happen unless hours of spooning were involved. Time to change the subject. “Dr. Harper, I understand you found something of significance.”
“Oh, indeed. We believe it was to be a temple of sorts.”
“Of sorts? You mean you’re not sure?”
“Yes and no. The reason for the ambiguity is due to the fact that we can’t seem to decipher exactly what the point of attraction is.”
“But you do think it’s a temple.”
“Indeed.”
“What do the glyphs say?”
“From what we can tell, they speak of visitations, of teaching, of doorways to other worlds and the uniting of similar beings—everything is quite sketchy,
and there are definite gaps we have yet to fill in. The hieroglyphics do not follow the same patterns and are not as precise as sites we’ve uncovered in the past.”
“And yet you got temple out of all that?”
“It seems the room itself is set up as if it were a place of worship with a quadro-pillared dais and empty floor space which circumvents the perimeter. There are artifacts, a few pieces of jewelry and such, displayed in presentation style. It’s practically Hebrew in design.”
Jade sat back in her chair as she absorbed the information. “Wow, swell rumble.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, sorry. Very interesting news.”
“I agree. We’ve had many give up on the project by reason of contradictory views—not to mention the press isn’t interested.”
“Why wouldn’t they be interested? Not enough sparkly things to garner any serious lettuce?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him.
Dr. Harper chuckled. “Oh, there is some gold, but it seems Mr. Carter’s extensive find far out-shines our little insignificant room.”
Poking a corner of flat bread into her mouth, Jade chewed while mulling over Dr. Harper’s information. Perhaps if she saw it for herself, it would be easier to tighten the screws and talk him out of pursuing further research on the site.
A server ducked into the tent and set something onto a table which could very well have been a full bottle of prohibited—at least in the States—refreshment. Once the server departed, Jade turned to Dr. Harper and smiled. “Will you show me tomorrow?”
He nodded. “First thing.”
Jade scooted her chair back, and Dr. Harper stood when she did. “Good night then.” She grabbed a handful of flat bread and, as she past the little table, took up the bottle. Without looking back to see if the good doctor had noticed, she made for her tent.
* * * *
“This is amazing,” she murmured to Dr. Harper, thankful only one torch provided light in the temple room. Last night, she’d finished off half the bottle of what must have been bathtub gin and was paying dearly for it now. She shrugged aside a subconscious reprimand. There were always consequences the next morning.
“We’ve already dusted and catalogued the items on the dais, the adornments and the four pillars—how would you like to help out with the glyphs?” He held out a brand new journal and a sharpened pencil to her.
Jade’s gaze landed on Dr. Harper’s offering. Her fingers itched to fill the blank pages of the book with her very own hypotheses. Assisting with the dig was certainly not on her agenda. However, the lure of deciphering the mysterious hieroglyphics enticed her the same way a tall, cool bell-bottom in his dress uniform did. “Dr. Harper, you could tempt a nun to debauchery.”
He smiled and relinquished the journal to her. “No, only the daughter of Doctor Anthony Victor Poole to a room full of ancient Egyptian artifacts.”
* * * *
It had taken several hours to go over every inch of the small room. When she finished, she’d handed the journal to one of Dr. Harper’s assistants and returned to her tent to collapse onto her cot.
With a brief half-hour nap under her belt, she emerged from her tent and stretched her arms toward the late afternoon sky, working out a few kinks in her neck and shoulders. The heat hadn’t lingered, thank goodness, and the temple room where she’d studied for the better part of the day sat just below ground, keeping it cooler than the outdoor temperatures. Still, it would be heaven to take a bath and sleep the rest of the afternoon and evening away. Not that she’d find a bath anywhere—
“Jade Anne!” Dr. Harper called to her not two steps from her tent. “I read your findings.”
“Come on in, Doc,” she said with a sigh.
He pushed his way through the entrance flap. “My dear, aren’t you the least bit excited?”
“You mean because of the blanks we filled in today?”
“No! Because you found the room itself to be pre-dynastic! Not a single ruler’s name, on record or otherwise, could be found on the walls of the temple room.”
She waved a hand. “Oh, that. Haven’t there been other pre-dynastic findings?”
Dr. Harper shook his head. “Nothing like what we have here. This is the first—or should I say yours is the first.”
“I see,” she said with far less enthusiasm than he displayed. What she hadn’t logged was that the glyphs may have been the work of some fanciful Egyptian, and this room was the first fiction novel ever written. She would bet a thirty-inch string of black pearls that this room was a hoax, a farce, an ancient practical joke someone had played and forgotten to dismantle. The pattern to which the information followed circled the painted scenes in loops and didn’t follow a vertical flow as did other hieroglyphs. There were travelers—beings from the sky mentioned—which she imagined caused the others involved to claim “conflicting views.” Had she the time, she’d wait until the Church muscled their way in and shut them down for heresy.
Interrupting her thoughts, Dr. Harper placed his hand on her shoulder. “Tonight we celebrate. The entire camp has been called out to enjoy dinner in costume and,” he dropped his voice low, “several celebratory barrels of aged French cognac are on their way as we speak.”
This perked Jade up like nothing else had since she’d set out on this little excursion. She couldn’t pass up a great party. It just wasn’t in her to do so. Perhaps she’d let the good doctor in on her personal theory tomorrow. “Er, Dr. Harper, is there any way to get a bath sent to me?” She smiled and batted her eyelashes.
He grinned. “Anything for our star archeologist.”
* * * *
The costume Jade had come up with, whilst draining the remainder of the bottle of bathtub gin she’d pilfered the night before, was nothing less than scandalous. And she refused to feel guilty about raiding the inside of her own tent for the items she’d gathered. It was her money they’d acquired the goods with, after all. Two nearly sheer panels of narrow white linen draped over her shoulders to sweep at the tops of her sandaled feet. If one looked close enough, one could detect her nipples through the material—good thing the warm desert weather held its end of the bargain. She’d fashioned a loin cloth with the same thin fabric and fastened everything at her waist with a soft leather sash Her hair hung over her shoulders to the middle of her back, having rejected the popular bob every single one of her girlfriends had. She looked as if she’d stepped off of the walls of the temple she’d been studying all day. The only thing she needed to complete her outfit could have been purchased from Tiffany & Co. Unfortunately, she didn’t have access to her favorite jewelry store in Nowhere, Egypt.
Snapping her fingers, she recalled the pair of gold bracelets on the table in the temple. Dr. Harper and the others wouldn’t mind if she borrowed them just for tonight’s little soirée.
Jade dashed over to the entrance of the temple and took the lit torch from the wall outside. She made her way down a few stone stairs and into the room. She hiccupped and giggled aloud at the echo she’d created. Placing the torch in the wall sconce, she stepped upon the dais.
Circling the table, she eyed a matching pair of gold bracelets that glowed back at her in the dim light. They looked about the size of her wrists and would reach to mid forearm. “Tres chic,” she whispered and picked one up to study it. The hammered bracelet sported intricate roped edges. Depicted in the center was a beautifully detailed winged sun. The same suns vertically adorned each of the four foot tall obelisk pillars set at the four corners of the dais.
With a grin she slipped her wrist between the gap and glanced up at ancient artwork upon the wall. The figure in the painting had placed the seam at the front of his wrist, but Jade didn’t think it displayed the item to its advantage that way. She donned the other bracelet, and her eyes wandered back to the walls of the temple. She had stared at the figures for the better part of the day, but now she felt a sort of appreciation for their plight. She backed up a couple steps to get a better view of the wal
l upon which her torch sat. Living in the desert was nothing short of crazy. Why people settled here all those years ago was beyond her.
Jade shrugged. It was none of her business anyway, and she really needed to get to that party. Intending to step down from the dais, she misplaced her foot and fell through the air. With a shriek, she braced herself to meet the ground. However, the ground she expected never came.
Chapter Two
Forcing a whoosh of air from her lungs, Jade’s bottom landed upon soft, cool sand. She groaned. “Damn bathtub gin,” she murmured and came to her knees. Her gaze lifted to the brilliant night sky packed with so many stars, she couldn’t decipher a single constellation.
Reaching up, she dragged a hand through her hair. “How in the hell did I end up outside?” Along the horizon line, there was nothing but flat desert as far as she could see. A tremor of panic grabbed at her stomach. She stood and whipped around, spotting the torch-lit camp in the distance. Her hand clapped down upon her chest in relief. On wobbly legs, she vowed to stay away from distilments made by Egyptian peasants. With determination, she strode toward the shimmering lights.
Jade kicked at the sand as she made her way up and over the low dunes, angry with herself for imbibing alone like some pathetic gutter-puss and for losing her way because of it. But it wasn’t just that. She felt guilty for having to pull Dr. Harper’s financing. Perhaps with a bit of gumption and a dash of luck, he could alert a newspaper in some wealthy part of the world where dozens of philanthropists were just salivating to invest in a treasure hunt.
Soon she found herself in the middle of Harper’s camp, but not a single tent looked familiar. She should have taken some time to explore the camp upon her arrival.
“Excuse me,” a tall, broad-in-the-belly man addressed her. “Are you new?” He spoke Egyptian, but an odd accent with harsh vowels accompanied his language.
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