Indiana Jones and the Secretof the Sphinx

by Max McCoy

"They won't kill you," Sallah said, "but for a day or so they make you wish they had. Where are we now?"

  "The room of the two guardians," Indy said, then held the torch aloft. "Meet the guardians."

  The desiccated corpse of a warrior was tucked into a niche in the east wall. His skin had shrunken against his bones, his armor was tarnished, but his spear was still tightly grasped in a skeletal hand.

  On the opposite side was a priest. His white tunic had rotted away, and his head had fallen backward from his shoulders, while his jaw had dropped down to rest on his sternum. Yellowed teeth bristled from the gaping mouth. In his hand he held a copper adze.

  "How do we proceed?" Sallah asked.

  "Very carefully," Indy said.

  Indy stepped forward, paused, then took another step forward.

  "Anything?" he asked.

  "Nothing," Sallah said.

  "Good," Indy said, taking two more paces. "How about now?"

  "Everything seems... too easy," Sallah said.

  "You're right," Indy said.

  The torch flickered, its flame kissed by the slightest of breezes.

  "Get down!" Indy shouted.

  Indy hugged the floor as a copper disk with razor-sharp edges dropped from the ceiling. The disk swung low enough to slice through the back of Indy's leather jacket, then swung up over Sallah's arched back and returned to the ceiling.

  "You okay?" Indy asked as he picked up the torch.

  "I think so," Sallah allowed.

  "Good," Indy said. "The next chamber, the fifth, should be a well room."

  With Sallah at his heels, Indy walked cautiously down the passage to the entrance of the next chamber. As predicted, there was a pit in the middle of it, surrounded by four massive, square pillars. The pillars were decorated with stylized depictions of crocodiles and baboons.

  Indy sat on his heels for a moment while he studied the room. Then he took a pebble from the floor and tossed it into the pit.

  A few feet down, it bounced sharply on stone.

  "We walk across it," he said.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Don't touch the pillars or the floor," Indy said as he stepped down into the pit and walked across the flagstones to the other side.

  "What will happen if I do?" Sallah asked.

  "I don't know," Indy said, "but it won't be good."

  Indy stepped up on the other side of the pit, then waited for Sallah to join him.

  "In a typical tomb," Indy said, "the next chamber would be the burial chamber—unless the tomb was extended to a second course, in which case the chamber would become the 'Chariot Hall,' a sort of war memorial."

  They stepped into the next room, which was a large chamber decorated with scenes of warfare: phalanxes of soldiers, thundering chariots, rows of decapitated enemies. In the middle of the room, centered among the pillars, was a flat-topped stone monument with rows of ankhs on each side. Unlike the previous rooms, there was no obvious exit.

  "There must be a second level," Sallah said.

  "All we have to do is find the entrance without killing ourselves," Indy said.

  "A worthy goal," Sallah said.

  Indy searched the floor and the walls by the light of the torch. There was a confusing array of paintings and reliefs and, along the north wall, a series of oval cartouches containing the names of pharaohs.

  "Look at this," Indy said.

  "The names of every king to rule Egypt since Menes in the First Dynasty," Sallah said as he held his torch close. "And look, the names go all the way back to the Thirtieth Dynasty in the Late Period."

  "That's impossible," Indy said incredulously. "This labyrinth could not have been built before the Middle Kingdom."

  "Yet," Sallah said, "here are the names. Even I can read them."

  "They must have been carved here during the restorations," Indy said.

  "Let us hope so," Sallah replied. "The alternative is too frightening to contemplate."

  Indy turned from the wall to examine the stone monument in the center of the room.

  "Perhaps this is a burial chamber after all," Sallah suggested.

  "This is too small to hold a mummy," Indy said.

  "What if it holds the body of a child?" Sallah asked. "Or a temple animal, such as a baboon?"

  "I don't think so," Indy said as he rapped it with his knuckles. "It sounds solid. Say, how far do you think we've gone?"

  "Into the earth?" Sallah asked.

  "No," Indy said. "Distance."

  "It is hard to say," Sallah replied. "I was not counting the steps, but I would say it has been several hundred meters, at least."

  "And in which direction?" Indy asked.

  "Southwest," Sallah said.

  "That's what I thought," Indy said as he jumped up on the flat surface of the stone monument. "We're underneath the Great Pyramid. We don't go down—we go up!"

  Indy held the torch close to the ceiling and probed with the fingers of his other hand. Then he pushed with his palm, and the ceiling seemed to give upward.

  "Help me," Indy said. "I think it's cantilevered."

  Sallah clambered up the other side of stone monument and, holding the torch between his teeth, put both of his meaty palms against the ceiling and pushed.

  With a creaking groan, the ceiling swung open as a fine layer of red dust sprinkled down. A narrow flight of steps led upward.

  "Another first corridor," Indy said as he pulled himself into the atticlike space. Then he extended a hand down and helped Sallah struggle up into it.

  "I've never seen anything like this," Sallah said, excitement showing in his eyes for the first time. "What did the ancients call it?"

  "I don't know," Indy admitted. "This is a new one for me. But we have gone deep within the earth, and now we are starting our ascension—it must have religious connotations. Let's call it the Shaft of Redemption."

  "What do you suppose we will find at the end?" Sallah asked. "Think of Carter's discovery of the tomb of Tutankhamen—and he was a minor king! Think what we might find here!"

  "I'm afraid to," Indy said. "Be careful—these stairs are steep, and the dust makes them slippery as well."

  After thirty steps, with no landing yet in sight, Sallah braced himself against a wall and wiped the sweat from his face with a kerchief.

  "I'm sorry, my friend," he said. "My wind is failing me."

  "No problem," Indy said, pausing. "I can use a rest myself. Let me know when you're ready to go on."

  Sallah held a finger to his lips.

  "Did you hear that?" he asked. "A rustling, almost as if someone were following us."

  "These tombs sigh and moan like living things after they're opened," Indy said. "It's the change in atmospheric pressure, and the limestone drawing moisture from the air."

  "This was something else," Sallah said. "Footsteps, I believe."

  "Your ears are more sensitive than mine," Indy said.

  "It is the Bedouin in me," Sallah said and smiled. "You go ahead. I am going to remain here for a few minutes, to make sure that we are not being followed."

  "I'd feel better if—"

  "Indy?"

  There was a light at the bottom of stairs, and Mystery climbed lithely into the corridor. She was holding a battery-powered lantern, and she still had the coil of rope slung over her shoulder.

  "Up here," Indy called. "Be careful."

  When she had joined them, Indy told her: "Next time you go tomb-hopping, carry a torch with you. The flame will tell you when you've hit a pocket of bad air."

  "I don't plan on a next time," Mystery said.

  "Is your mother all right?" Indy asked.

  "She sent me to check on you," Mystery said. "It seems like you've been gone an awfully long time. But seeing the darts and the pits, I can understand why."

  "You shouldn't have tried to negotiate them alone," Indy said in his best adult voice.

  "I'm here, aren't I?" she asked.

  "Well, you're just going to have to come
along," Indy said. "I'm not sending you back by yourself."

  "Go on," Sallah said. "I need my rest, and you need to work as quickly as possible. Dawn is not so far away. If there is trouble, I will shout out."

  Indy clasped his old friend on the shoulder. Then he turned to Mystery. "Follow me," he said, "but do so carefully." With that, he resumed his ascent of the stairway.

  Faye saw Jadoo's shadow, cast by the light of the full moon low in the sky, on the sand at her feet. She pushed the sleeves of her robe back to reveal her arms, brushed her dark hair away from her face, then turned to face the surprised magician.

  "I knew you would come," she said. "But I have to admit, I was expecting something a little more artful than your simply sneaking up behind me."

  "Ah, but it is effective," Jadoo said, regaining his composure. "Particularly when I bring an armed company with violence in their hearts."

  Sokai and Lieutenant Musashi dropped down into the Sphinx enclosure, followed by Warrant Officer Miyamoto and a half dozen Japanese soldiers armed with submachine guns. Miyamoto barked orders and the soldiers trained their guns on Faye.

  Jadoo closed the distance between himself and Faye and snatched the Staff from her hands.

  "I never dreamed it would be in such fine shape," he exclaimed. "It has such weight still, and the wood has such a wonderful texture, almost as if it were part of a living tree." He brought the Staff to within inches of his nose. "The smell of fresh almonds!"

  Faye crossed her arms and regarded Jadoo with scorn. A gentle wind came from the east, sending old newspapers and other trash skittering across the sand while gently stroking Faye's hair. Jadoo did not remember her hair being so shot full of gray.

  "Tell me, have you attempted to conjure with it?"

  Faye was silent.

  Jadoo held the Staff in front of him, unsure of what to do next. Then he pointed it at the sky and commanded it to produce hail.

  Faye laughed.

  "No matter," Jadoo said. "I will find the words."

  "I see that your little band of misfits has done much of the work for us," Sokai said as he approached. "I am particularly grateful that Dr. Jones has volunteered to test the passage for pitfalls. Tell me, are his fat friend and your tomboy daughter with him?"

  Faye shrugged.

  "So brave," Sokai commented with feigned sadness, "and yet so foolish."

  "I have always listened to my heart instead of my head," she said.

  Sokai parted his trench coat and drew his samurai sword from its folds. He leveled the sword at Faye, placed the tip right beneath her chin, and pushed just hard enough to draw a drop of blood.

  "If you so much as call out," he said, "these soldiers will kill you. And if you cause trouble here on the surface while I am down there, I will without the slightest hesitation kill your brat. Do you understand?"

  "Yes," Faye said.

  "Good," Sokai said as he sheathed his sword. "Warrant Officer Miyamoto, keep a close watch on this American bitch. Lieutenant Musashi, follow me."

  The stairs ended in a small room with no decoration. A small, square hole in the ceiling led to a long shaft.

  "Give me a boost," Indy said.

  Mystery put her hands together to make a stirrup for Indy's right boot, then helped lift him up to the ceiling. He put his hands on either side of the chimneylike shaft, but the pain from his injured shoulder made him wince and give a small cry.

  "Let me," Mystery said.

  "No, I can do it," Indy said as he dropped back down. "I just need a minute."

  "We don't have a minute," Mystery said as she adjusted the coil of rope. "Let me, and then I can lower the rope for you. This is my type of thing, Dr. Jones."

  "Too dangerous," he said.

  "How dangerous do you think it will be when you fall twenty feet and land on this rock floor?" she asked as she jumped up and grasped the lip of the shaft, which only projected out a fraction of an inch, with her fingertips. She hung there for a moment, and then pulled herself up into the shaft, with her back to one wall and her feet against the other. She kicked off her shoes.

  "All right," Indy said. "But be careful. Go slowly, and don't touch anything that looks suspicious. If you feel anything move, get out of the shaft quick."

  "Don't you think I know anything?" Mystery asked.

  "Yes, I do," Indy said. "I've just gotten kind of used to having you around, is all."

  "I see a beam up above me," Mystery said as she made her way higher. She gave no sign that she recognized Indy's expression of fatherly sentiment.

  "Is it wood or stone?" Indy asked.

  "It's metal," she said.

  "What kind?" Indy asked. "Copper?"

  "Nope," Mystery said. "It's iron."

  "It can't be iron," Indy said. "The structures at Giza were built before the Iron Age."

  "Sure," she said. While Indy debated whether she should touch it, she grasped the beam and swung up into the next chamber. She tucked the lantern under one arm as she tied the rope around the beam. "It looks like iron, it feels like iron, it's as strong as iron, but it's not iron."

  "Don't touch it," Indy called.

  "Too late," Mystery said as she dropped the coil down the shaft.

  Indy put his torch in his teeth, grasped the rope, and fought his way up the shaft to the beam to join Mystery. He found himself in a fairly spacious chamber of finished limestone, with no feature other than the beam—which Indy had to admit was iron—and a doorway to the north.

  "Good job," Indy said.

  "Thanks."

  "The next chamber," Indy said and nodded toward the doorway. "The Hall of Truth. If the book truly exists, it will be in there. Are you ready?"

  "I've been ready since I was twelve," Mystery said.

  The entrance to the room was flanked by two massive marble columns; the one on the left was black, while the other was a brilliant white.

  Indy held the torch aloft and stepped through the doorway, followed by Mystery and her electric lantern. There was a wavering musical chord, a major chord.

  Mystery switched off her lantern.

  It wasn't needed.

  The room had become illuminated by some diffused, unseen light source. The floor, walls, and ceilings of the room were polished, rose-colored granite. In the middle of the room was a black granite pillar, and in relief on the pillar were a number of characters from various ancient languages—Sumerian, Egyptian, Sanskrit, Coptic, Greek, Chinese, and a couple that Indy did not recognize. The only character that Mystery recognized was the Greek one.

  On the pillar was a book, or something that resembled a book but wasn't quite like any book either of them had ever seen: The pages of the book were of a highly polished, silvery metal, and they rippled—in time to the wavering music set off by the disturbance of the air that Indy and Mystery had caused merely by entering the room. The pages turned upon a golden spine, but they also went down inside the pillar, so that the book appeared endless.

  "The Omega Book," Mystery said.

  "Now I know I'm dreaming," Indy said.

  "Does this feel like a dream?" Mystery asked as she pinched his forearm.

  "No," Indy said, rubbing the spot.

  "Then quit talking nonsense," she said. "My father said the book existed, and he was right. But this looks more like a machine or something than a book."

  "The Ancient of Days, perhaps?" Indy asked as he tossed the torch onto the bare rock floor of the room behind them.

  "What?" Mystery asked.

  "The divine... something that gave mercy and bread to the Israelites each morning," Indy said. "Some people have said that the Bible's description of it sounds a little like a Stone Age people attempting to describe an automobile—eyes for headlights, a mouth for the radiator, that sort of thing."

  "What do you think?"

  "This could be it, and I wouldn't know."

  "I wonder where the light is coming from," she said.

  "From recessed mirrors or polished plat
es or crystals in the walls or ceiling," Indy responded. "I've seen some barrows in England which achieved nearly the same effect with light from the midwinter sun."

  "Dr. Jones," Mystery said. "It's night outside, remember?"

  "That is a problem with my theory," Indy said. "Anyway, be careful. There have been no traps or pitfalls so far to speak of on the second level, but there must be something deadly here."

  "Maybe it's the book," Mystery said.

  Indy nodded as he walked over to the pillar. He leaned down to examine the book, and the force of his breath turned the shimmering pages. On the right side, new pages rose to take the place of those that had disappeared into the base of the pillar.

  "Are we on the wrong side?" Mystery asked. "Is the book upside down?"

  "No," Indy said. "These ancient languages generally read from right to left."

  He gently lifted a page between the thumb and index finger of his right hand. The page was so thin and light that he could not feel it between his fingers. The characters, which were about the size of newspaper type, were somehow cut into the page. There was a rainbow of colored sheets of the same material on top of the pillar.

  "Can you read it?" Mystery asked.

  "No," Indy said. "It doesn't make any sense to me. I wonder what these other sheets are for."

  Mystery picked up the red sheet that was on top.

  "This stuff is amazing," she said. "You bend it, and it springs right back into shape."

  She experimented a moment with it, then crumpled it in a tight ball between her hands. When she released it, the sheet unfolded back into a perfect, uncreased page.

  "I had this game when I was a child," she said. "It was a code book, and to read it you had to put a colored page over it. I wonder if it works like that."

  Indy took the red sheet and slipped it behind the page.

  "I'll be," he said. "Look, Chinese and Sanskrit and some other language I don't know."

  Indy took the next sheet, which was blue, and slipped it behind the same page. Three columns of text appeared—one in Egyptian, one in Coptic, and the last in Greek.

  "This is incredible," Indy said. "I've never seen anything like it—the world has never seen anything like it, at least not the world we know. We'll have to rewrite history. This is the archaeological discovery of the age."