The Cult of Osiris nwaec-5

by Andy McDermott

  Nina waved a dismissive hand. ‘Oh, God, no. The jerk.’ She turned back to Osir. ‘So. You have a yacht, huh?’

  Macy paced back and forth beside the rental car, looking anxiously along the lake at the castle for any signs of activity - or Nina. She saw neither. More pacing - then finally she couldn’t take any more and opened the door. ‘How can you just sit there?’

  ‘ ’Cause it’s more comfortable than standing?’ Eddie offered.

  ‘You know what I mean! It’s your wife in there! Why aren’t you worried about her?’

  ‘I am worried about her.’

  ‘You don’t look it! What is this, some British stiff upper lip thing?’

  ‘Just get in and sit down.’ Sulkily, Macy climbed in and slammed the door.

  In truth, though, he was worried about Nina. As he’d told her in Paris, meeting Osir in person was like not only walking into the lion’s den, but doing so wearing a jacket made of meat and a T-shirt reading Lions are pussies.

  But she had her own arguments: that letting Osir raid the Pyramid of Osiris would be an archaeological tragedy; that a dangerous cult getting its hands on a vast fortune could only be a bad thing; that after everything Osir and Shaban had put them through, didn’t he want the chance for some payback? He couldn’t deny that the last had a certain appeal.

  Which still didn’t mean he liked her plan. But now that it was in progress, all they could do was wait.

  ‘How do you stand it?’ Macy said, breaking the silence.

  ‘Stand what?’

  ‘Just . . . waiting!’

  ‘There isn’t much else I can do, is there? And you backed her up about going in there in the first bloody place. Did you think she was just going to knock on the door, say “Hi, I’ve come to see your zodiac”, then walk right back out?’

  ‘But she’s been in there over two hours! Oh, my God, what if something’s happened to her? She might be—’

  ‘She’s not,’ Eddie said firmly, hoping he was being truthful. ‘Okay, you want to know how I stand waiting around like this? Because I’m used to it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Being a soldier isn’t all running about and shooting at people. Ninety-nine per cent of the time, it’s boring as fuck. You go to a place, then you wait for something to happen. Mostly, you eventually get orders to go to some other place, and wait again.’

  ‘So what do you do to keep occupied?’

  ‘Nothing. Know why?’ She shook her head, curious. ‘Because when you do something to take your mind off the boredom, you also take your mind off what you’re supposed to be waiting for.’

  ‘Which is?’

  A thin smile. ‘Trouble. If you’re chatting with your mates, or listening to your iPod or whatever . . . that’s when some arsehole with an AK’ll pop up and blow your head off - and you won’t even see it coming.’

  She looked unhappy at the prospect. ‘Oh.’

  ‘So yeah, waiting around doing nothing in a combat zone’s a pain in the arse. But that’s how I stand it, ’cause it means that when something does happen, I’m ready for it.’

  ‘I get you. Although I really don’t think I’m cut out to be a soldier.’ She cocked her head. ‘Wait, so why are you chatting to me now?’

  He grinned. ‘ ’Cause this isn’t a combat zone.’ A glance towards the castle. ‘Yet.’

  She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but the trilling of Eddie’s phone immediately took both their minds off the subject. He switched it to speaker mode. ‘Nina! Are you okay?’

  The reply was a hurried whisper. ‘Yeah. I think Osir believed me.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘Well, he didn’t have me killed on the spot! Look, I can’t talk long - I’m in the bathroom and they’ll get suspicious.’

  ‘Did you see the zodiac?’ Macy asked.

  ‘No - it’s not here.’

  Eddie looked at Macy in dismay. ‘Bugg—’

  ‘Don’t even start,’ said Nina, cutting him off. ‘It’s on his yacht in Monaco. That’s where we’re going. He’s got a private jet at Geneva airport.’

  ‘How am I going to find you if you’re on a bloody boat?’

  ‘I don’t know! Maybe I can - dammit, gotta go! I’ll see you soon, I love you, bye!’

  ‘Love you too,’ said Eddie, just after the line closed. He looked at Macy, who had put a worried hand to her mouth. ‘Well, that’s fucking marvellous.’

  ‘You . . . you know how you didn’t want her to go in there, and I was all, “No, we have to find the pyramid before he does”?’ she said. ‘Now thinking: ’kay, might have been wrong.’

  ‘Bit late,’ Eddie growled. He banged a fist on the steering wheel. ‘Shit. Monaco’s over three hundred miles away. It’ll take us at least five hours to drive there through the bloody Alps. Probably more with all the grand prix traffic.’ A clattering rumble reached him: a helicopter flying up the valley, heading for the castle. ‘And they’ll be there in less than an hour.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘Get there as fast as possible and wait for her to call us,’ he said grimly, starting the car. ‘Nowt else we can do.’ He pulled out, and with a crunch of gravel spun the car round to head south.

  14

  Monaco

  Though hardly the only micro-state to dot the map of Europe, the Principality of Monaco is by far the wealthiest, at least in terms of income per head - and also the most glamorous. The tiny country’s location on the French Riviera near the Italian border gives it a warm subtropical climate, and its royal family and casinos add an air of expensive mystique . . . to say nothing of its tax haven status, which makes it a magnet for the super-rich.

  It is, however, arguably most famous for its annual motor race, million-dollar vehicles screaming through the twisting streets at over 180 miles per hour. From the foredeck of Osir’s huge yacht, the Solar Barque, moored offshore beyond Monaco’s outer breakwater, Nina couldn’t see the Saturday qualifying session as the drivers steeled themselves for the Sunday race - but she could hear it, the roaring wail of ultra-high-performance engines echoing off buildings as cars speared along the harbour front before looping back into the city and making the steep ascent to Casino Square.

  ‘Wow,’ she said to Osir. ‘Must be distracting if you live there and you’re trying to watch TV.’

  The cult leader was, in fact, trying to watch TV. ‘I think anyone who lives in Monaco and doesn’t like the noise of racing cars can afford to take a vacation for one week each year,’ he said, eyes fixed on a live broadcast of the qualifying session. ‘But then, anyone - no!’ He muttered an Arabic curse.

  ‘Someone else has beaten Virtanen’s lap time?’ asked Shaban from a nearby lounger with mocking indifference.

  Osir glared at him. ‘By over a tenth of a second! We’ll be lucky to have a car in the front half of the grid at this rate.’

  ‘We shouldn’t have any cars at all. It is a huge waste of money.’

  ‘It helps spread the Osirian Temple’s name around the world,’ said Osir. ‘I consider it worth it - and I am not having this discussion again, Sebak.’ His brother scowled and stood, retreating inside the yacht.

  Nina turned away from the sunlit vista of the city to Osir. ‘You know, I wouldn’t have thought they’d let religions sponsor cars.’

  ‘Technically, the Osirian Temple is not sponsoring anything,’ he said, keeping a close watch on the screen. ‘All the money comes from the Osiris Investment Group.’ A new set of numbers appeared. ‘Ah, that’s more like it! That should put us on the third row.’

  ‘Sponsoring racing teams, running this enormous yacht . . . the Osirian Temple’s not really like other religions, is it?’

  Osir eyed her over his sunglasses. ‘You sound disapproving, Nina.’

  She shrugged. ‘Not my concern. I’m just sayin’.’

  ‘My clever accountants worked out a way for the Solar Barque to cost me absolutely nothing, thanks to some loss-making subsidi
aries and carefully crafted leaseback agreements with OIG. Since I can have it, I may as well enjoy it. And you may as well too.’ He pushed an intercom button on his lounger’s arm. ‘Nadia? Two martinis, please.’

  ‘I’m okay,’ said Nina, holding up a hand.

  ‘I insist. On a beautiful day like this, you should take the maximum pleasure from every one of your senses.’

  ‘I’d rather be working on the zodiac.’

  ‘When it’s ready,’ he said, to her disappointment. ‘My experts are making sure it is as perfectly reassembled as possible. It will still take them hours, but I don’t want the slightest clue to be missed.’

  She couldn’t stop herself from saying, ‘Then maybe you should have left it on the ceiling of the Hall of Records.’

  He smirked. ‘Now you really do disapprove.’

  ‘Moving it wouldn’t have been my first choice - especially since your brother and that asshole Diamondback tried to kill me while they were doing it.’ She shot a venomous look at the deck above. Diamondback was leaning against the rail, surreptitiously keeping an eye on her. ‘But it’s done. So I might as well profit from it.’

  ‘And you will, Nina. We both will.’ He smiled, then turned as a lithe young Jamaican woman in a bikini arrived with a tray. ‘Nadia, thank you.’

  Nadia handed the tall glasses, ice clinking, to Nina and Osir. ‘Is there anything else you want?’ she asked in a suggestive tone.

  Osir grinned. ‘Always, my dear . . . but not just now. Perhaps after the party at the casino.’ He gave her backside something between a brush and a swat as she turned to leave, making her giggle.

  ‘You got a hunky guy in Speedos for me?’ Nina asked. She had seen several other young women in similar states of near-undress since boarding - along with numerous green-blazered guards, some armed with silenced MP7 sub-machine guns.

  ‘I’m sure we could arrange one.’

  She got the feeling he wasn’t joking. ‘So, tell me,’ she said, wanting both to change the subject and to pass the time until she could legitimately go for another ‘bathroom break’ - her first attempt to contact Eddie from the yacht had failed because the head she chose had zero cell phone reception, ‘how does a guy go from being a baker to founding his own religion? With a spell as a movie star in between, too.’

  Osir sat up and muted the flatscreen, pleased at the opportunity to talk about his favourite subject: himself. ‘I said in Switzerland that I like to gamble, yes? Well, I became an actor because I took a gamble. I was only fourteen, and a movie was being shot in my town. From the moment I saw the actors, and the crew attending them, I knew I had to be a part of it - somehow. But they were only on location for three days before going back to the studio. So every day I sneaked out of school and hung around the shoot, talking to people between takes - including the lead actor, Fadil. I tried to convince Sebak to come with me - he was twelve - but he was afraid of being caught, and thought our father would be furious.’

  ‘And was he?’

  Osir smiled. ‘Oh, yes. But I’ll come to that. On the last day, they were shooting a scene where the two leads get out of a car and go into a hotel, and they needed some extras in the background. Because one of the people I had befriended was the assistant director, he called me over.’

  ‘And so began a movie career,’ said Nina. For all her distrust of Osir, with his rich voice and expressive face she couldn’t help warming to him as a storyteller.

  ‘Not quite,’ he said. ‘Skipping school was only a small gamble. The big gamble was when I gave myself a line during the take.’

  ‘Ooh. I bet the director was mad.’

  He smiled again, no longer looking at Nina but somewhere off into the sky. ‘I can still remember it - Fadil was having trouble getting a big case out of the car. I saw that the director was about to say “Cut”, so I stepped forward and said, “Help the gentleman with his case? Only ten piastres,” and held out my hand like Oliver Twist!’

  ‘And what happened?’

  ‘The director was so surprised, he forgot to call for a cut,’ he said, laughing, ‘and Fadil, since he knew me, improvised rather than getting angry. He said, “If you take all the lady’s cases, I’ll give you twenty!” Everyone laughed, and the director decided to keep it in the film. I even got paid! You will never guess how much.’

  ‘Twenty piastres?’

  ‘Out of Fadil’s own pocket. So that was my big gamble, and my first screen appearance. Of course, Sebak was incredibly jealous, so he told my parents what I had done. And yes, my father was furious. But a few days later he got a letter from the director. After he saw the dailies from the location he realised there was a later scene where he could follow up my little joke in a way that helped build Fadil’s character. To do that, though, he needed me again . . . so he asked if I would come to Cairo to shoot the new scene.’

  ‘Wow,’ Nina said, impressed. ‘It really did pay off.’

  ‘More than I could ever have dreamed. My father took a little persuading, but I got my way; there are advantages to being the first-born son! So I went to Cairo, and since I was working at the studio, I needed to sign a contract. My birth name, Khalid Shaban, was the same as another actor’s, so they asked me to pick a stage name. I chose Osir - after Osiris, of course. I thought it would bring me luck.’

  ‘And it did.’

  ‘It certainly did. By sixteen, I was in regular work as an actor - small parts at first, but building my skills and making friends on both sides of the camera. By eighteen, I had starred in my first film, which was quite successful by Egyptian standards. The studio wanted more, but I was due to start my three years of national service in the army. So the studio head, who had friends in the government, pulled a few strings.’

  Nina sipped her martini. ‘And got you out of military service?’

  He nodded. ‘I would have done it, but I’m glad I didn’t have to. I was having too much fun! I was only eighteen, but I was famous, making lots of money, travelling - and meeting many beautiful women.’ Osir smiled broadly - a smile which, to Nina’s surprise, quickly faded. ‘All this only made Sebak even more jealous . . . and then he had his accident.’

  ‘What happened to him? I mean, he obviously got burned, but . . .’

  ‘It happened in the army.’ Osir shook his head sadly. ‘Unlike me, he was conscripted. So he was already angry about that. Then, only a few weeks into service, he was in a truck that crashed and caught fire. He was in hospital for two months, with one side of his face, and more, burned away . . . then he was made to go straight back into his unit to serve the rest of his three years. He was understandably bitter.’

  ‘I’m not surprised.’ The revelation did nothing to make Nina more sympathetic to Shaban, but she could understand his constantly simmering rage at the world.

  ‘When he came out of the army, I did what any elder brother should, and took care of him. I found him work as my assistant, and when I established the Osirian Temple I made him a key part of it.’

  ‘How did you establish the Osirian Temple? Setting up a religion isn’t exactly something you can buy a Dummies’ Guide for.’

  Osir chuckled. ‘I made a movie called Osiris and Set, eighteen years ago. I played Osiris; it was destined, I suppose! It was very successful - it even had a release, a small one, in America, which is very rare for Egyptian films. Because of it, I was for a time the biggest star in Egypt. Everyone knew me, everyone wanted to hear what I had to say . . . it was like being worshipped, just as I had been as Osiris in the movie.’ He regarded Nina knowingly, clinking the ice in his glass. ‘You’ve been famous - in a different way, but you know what it’s like. And how it is . . . addictive.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that, exactly.’

  A sly smile. ‘Oh, Nina. The first time you saw yourself on television, the first time you saw your own face on a magazine cover . . . wasn’t it a thrill? The world was watching you, listening to you. There is no feeling like it. And no one is immune to its siren song - not
even a scientist. You can’t tell me that after having experienced those heights, you are happy to fall into obscurity.’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind, so long as it’s wealthy obscurity,’ Nina said, playing her role. But she reluctantly had to agree that he had a point.

  Osir saw her doubt, and smiled again. ‘But as for me, I wanted more. Not just as an actor, or even as a star. I wanted to be loved,’ he thumped his heart, ‘here. To have people believe in me, follow me—’

  ‘Worship you?’

  ‘What can I say?’ He raised his hands in mock apology. ‘Yes, I wanted to be worshipped. So I quit acting, and founded the Osirian Temple - and, more quietly, also founded the company that would become OIG.’

  ‘Another gamble,’ said Nina.

  ‘The biggest of my life. I am a Muslim, after all,’ Nina noted that he used the present tense, ‘and to Islam’s more fundamentalist followers, who are unfortunately growing in strength in Egypt, apostasy is a crime that deserves death. I received my share of threats. Which was why I put Sebak in charge of protecting me, and the Osirian Temple as a whole. He is very good at his job.’

  ‘Maybe too good,’ Nina said. Shaban was now talking to Diamondback on the upper deck, a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Again, I apologise. Events got out of control.’ Something on the screen caught his eye, and he jabbed at the button to unmute it. ‘Second fastest! We are on the front row!’ He looked back at Nina. ‘Yet more apologies, but this is extremely good news.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ she said, putting down the glass. ‘I need to take a quick break anyway.’ She headed into the ship to find another bathroom.

  ‘Where are you?’ Eddie said, answering the phone.

  ‘In Monaco,’ came Nina’s whispered reply. ‘I’m on his boat. Ship. Whatever the dividing line is. Where are you?’

  ‘On an autostrada in Italy.’ He was speeding, doing thirty over the 130 kilometre per hour limit, but this being Italy impatient locals were flashing past him.

  ‘Italy? What the hell are you doing there?’