Gary Gygax - Dangerous Journeys 2 - Samarkand Solution

by Gary Gygax

  "Which track, Magister? It seems as if we are standing at the cross-roads between oases!"

  Inhetep nodded. "There are too many marks, I agree. Yet I think when we are finished, it will be Absobek-khaibet we will track—and that one will lead us to the mastermind behind the false trails."

  "My men are hunting Absobek now," Tuhorus said. "You think the uab priest will talk so readily?"

  "Not at all, Inspector. I am betting he'll avoid capture."

  Before more could be said between them, however, they were interrupted by the arrival of Aufseru, purported aide to the dead governor.

  He came in with tight lips and an expressionless face, standing stiffly even when told to sit by the police official. "Come, come, Aufseru," Tuhorus chided. "You'll get nothing from such behavior. Make it easier on yourself, man and perhaps ..."

  "Hsst! What's that you say, Aufseru?" demanded the priest-wizard as Chief Inspector Tuhorus trailed off. Something about the prisoner had made the detective cease his speech, and then the aide to the murdered prince had spoken. Inhetep repeated his question. "What did you say?"

  "I am a dead man . .." Aufseru said in a whispering monotone.

  "That's likely," Tuhorus said brusquely, "yet there might—"

  "Stop!" the magister interjected. "Listen to him!"

  "... the Samarkand Solution," rasped from Aufseru's throat. "Only the gods can save you from the same fate unless you turn away now and close the case."

  "Gods! What are you muttering about? Are you drugged? Tell us about the 'Samarkand Solution,' and forget threats," the policeman ordered sternly.

  Magister Inhetep moved around to better view Aufseru, and he was immediately struck by the sight. Aufseru was unnatural and zombie-like. Not only was he rigid and expressionless, but something in his eyes bespoke mindlessness, and his skin was pale and seemed to have a putre-scent luminosity to it. Tuhorus had been too intent upon learning the truth to bother about such things. One pass using heka, however, showed Inhetep that there was more than that to consider.

  "Careful, Inspector! He is a dead man— literally!"

  That made the policeman draw back slightly, and he stared from Aufseru to the magister uncertainly. "Dead! Then what is controlling him?"

  The ur-kheri-heb continued his magickal work even as Tuhorus spoke, using both the arts of the mage and the priest to scan the strange prisoner for clues as to what perils might lurk within the man. The phosphorescence of Auf-seru's skin brightened, but more evident to the priest-wizard was his inner core of energy which urew and brightened at the same moment. "Look out! Avoid him on your life, Tuhorus!" the magister shouted just as the Aufseru-zombie turned to a shimmering form of near-incandescent brightness and then flung out its arms, one in Inhetep's direction, the other toward the policeman. Globs of something flew, but the ur-kheri-heb was well out of range by then, and Inspector Tuhorus had dived to shelter behind his desk.

  As suddenly as the thing had flared, a blackness replaced that furious energy. Aufseru's body seemed to be a lightless void, then it simply disintegrated into nothingness, pale gray ash drifted down to litter the floor where he had stood. "There are footprints burned into the sandstone!" exclaimed Tuhorus.

  "So much for Prince Ram-f-amsu's aide," Inhetep said with an air of resignation. "Let's save the ash, Inspector, for analysis of it might tell us something."

  "But by Bright Ra, man! I was nearly killed by that .. . that . . . thing!"

  "So you were, Tuhorus. It attempted to send a part of that death at me as well—seems that whatever controlled the corpse didn't really expect that we'd listen meekly and close the case, so it was prepared to snuff us out."

  "That would only bring in more men to investigate the matter—a hopeless tactic."

  "Not so, dear Inspector. Any number of things might have resulted, including the assumption that Aufseru was the culprit and we all died apprehending him. No matter, for we won't know now what wheels would have been put in motion to cover this up had we died. The plan failed, so we are going to keep right on sussing out the evil behind this little act in the drama, Tuhorus. After we get this down, and the remains of the fellow are swept up, let's see about jobo Lasuti. I think that the Nubian alchemist must have some very interesting information for us."

  "You're a cool one, Utchat-neb. I think I am beginning to understand how you've earned your reputation. What about the 'Samarkand Solution' business, though? It keeps coming up."

  Magister Inhetep shook his head. "Samarkand—by any name—has long been known as a stronghold which refuses surrender to invaders. Three times the city has done so, been besieged, and eventually fallen. The victors have then razed it, but eventually a new city bearing the old name springs up, as does the phoenix from the ashes of the fire which consumed it."

  "The place last fell centuries ago," Tuhorus responded, "and Samarkand is now a rich and important trading center, a city-state of import in central Azir, yet . . . how is any of that connected with the governor's plot and these murders?"

  "There might be something linked to destruction—I'm not yet sure," the magister admitted.

  Those who try to stand before the force which is involved here seem to meet annihilation, but ..."

  "Yes, and a very strong 'but' seems appropriate. The link is thin." The inspector paused and considered a few moments. "Still, there are easterners involved, for we have the Parthians, their shaman calling himself Tengri Ataman, and the virtual destruction of each of those who might have been able to shed light on the matter."

  Inhetep shook his head this time. "That doesn't lead anywhere, for it doesn't tell us why the prince was originally assassinated, Tuhorus. We have to look behind the screen of events which now surround us like Darfur's jungle walls, so that we might get a glimpse of the sinister figure who is masterminding all."

  "Jobo Lasuti is?"

  "Something which is neither vegetation nor the lurker it screens. You'll see my reasoning, Inspector, in a few minutes."

  As if in answer to a cue, the Nubian alchemist was brought into the office. Seeing the signs of Aufseru's recent demise, Lasuti asked, "Demonstrating parlor magick for your associate, Inhetep?"

  Tuhorus was surprised by the magister's reply. "Address me as 'Lord,' you inferior black dabbler. Remember, I am an ur-kheri-hep-tepi," Setne sneered. "We aren't at some formal gathering of dweomercraefters now, where I must be polite. You are a Nubian savage on trial for your life, Lasuti. I think you will prove inadequate to the challenge."

  "All you bloody Egyptians have such a distorted view," the alchemist shot back, referring to Inhetep as 'bloody' in combined sense, for the term was used by separatists to describe both skin color and the methods used by the ^Egyptians in the past. "I have made such discoveries, ineffectual priest-mage, as you kheri-hebu and all the rest who think they know heka have yet to have dreamed of, and my work will not be in vain even if you personally end my life now! Nubia will be free!"

  Inhetep waved a hand arrogantly. "Bah! You rant as might a newly-caged baboon. The Oversight already has too much autonomy, its people are too generally considered equals to their betters. I think it is time to remove undue privileges—and recognize that you are a boastful savage, no more able to make discoveries than the ape I likened you to," the magister added snidely.

  "Then explain how your fellow aristocrat died," Lasuti jeered, his face a mask of rage. "A great ur-kheri-heb-tepi, an utchat-neb can surely manage something so simple!"

  "You poisoned him, Nubian ape, and for that you will die," magister Inhetep replied coldly.

  Lasuti laughed in the tall man's face. "You couldn't be more mistaken. I merely supplied Ram-f-amsu with a draught which destroys all traces of magick, a discovery . . ." The alchemist's words suddenly trailed off as he realized what he had just said.

  "I thank you, lmprimus, for that confession. While I suspected something of the sort, I had no means of proving it, of course. Your work was too good. Now, with that confession, we can move ahead.
"

  "May you rot in the darkest and most damned regions of the Duat, Inhetep!" the Nubian snarled.

  "I think not—nor will you, Jobo Lasuti, for you are a man of principle and conviction, albeit a misguided one. Did you hope that by assisting Prince Ram-f-amsu's plot, the Oversight would gain independence?"

  "Not would—will! If not now, eventually. You are oppressors and tyrants who must one day be driven out of Nubia."

  Even the policeman had to object to that. "Come now, Lasuti," the chief inspector said.

  "Nubia is as much a part of the kingdom as the three divisions and Phillistia. There have been Nubian pharaohs! There are many in the royal household who have Nubian blood in their veins, princes and officials of the land who are pure folk of your race. No one in all the Oversight has greater or fewer rights than in the rest of /Egypt. How can you speak of sundering our nation thus?"

  "He is mad," Inhetep said flatly. "Despite his misguided sense of nationalism and his irrational hatred for those not Nubian, Imprimus Lasuti had made great contributions to the art of dweom-ercrasfting and the profession of alchemy. I think his past accomplishments will earn him a reprieve from execution, Tuhorus. Confinement and treatment might serve to eventually cure him of his derangement."

  "Judge, jury, and Pharaoh are you, Inhetep?" the alchemist snarled.

  The magister shook his head. "No, but I think I can speak for the latter in regards to your case, Jobo Lasuti. Besides, there are, unfortunately, others of your ilk, and /Egypt needs no martyr for such a cause as you champion. You'll eventually come around."

  The alchemist fairly frothed at that. "Your fellow kheri-hebu will use drugs and mind control to make me into a puppet, eh? Well, I'll kill myself first, and thus all of you will be shown for what you are!"

  "I think he means that, Tuhorus," Magister

  Inhetep said to the policeman. "Be sure he's searched carefully and confined under constant watch in a special cell." Tuhorus nodded, and the wizard-priest spoke to Lasuti again. "Tell us about the stuff you supplied to Prince Ram-f-amsu."

  The alchemist compressed his lips. When Inhetep and the police inspector tried to elicit more from him, Lasuti remained stubbornly silent, even when the magister pointed out that the alchemist's home and office could be searched and the secret potion or substance discovered. After a few minutes they gave up, charged Lasuti with the whole list of crimes involved, and had him removed.

  "Why did he go silent?" querried Tuhorus after the alchemist had been physically carried to a cell, refusing even to walk.

  "He was angry—as much with himself as with us—at being goaded into mentioning his alchemical discovery. That information is what we need to resolve this case, I think."

  "At least the murders," Inspector Tuhorus quipped.

  "Very astute, my dear Chief Inspector," Inhetep responded with a slight smile. "But once we can demonstrate how the murders were done, it will be an easy enough thing to discover the agency behind them."

  Tuhorus cocked an eyebrow. "Is that so? Well, Magister Inhetep, I'll accept your word on that. Are you now going to tell me what it is you've been holding to yourself so that I too can be so sure?"

  "Directly after we complete this business with the conspirators, Tuhorus, as I promised. Then we must also see about the uab, Absobek-khaibet— a most convenient name that, isn't it?"

  Rhetorical or not, the blocky detective responded to the priest-wizard's query. "I hadn't considered it, but 'Shadow of Sobek's Heart' is indeed an ominous name, and an unusual one for a priest of Set, even though the red lord is allied with the crocodile-headed Sobek. What do you make of it?"

  "That we shall see when we return to the Temple of Set, Chief Inspector. I think we should speak to the three Parthians now."

  "Very well, I'll have them brought in immediately."

  When they learned the charges, General Sa-caxes grinned. "Those are indeed serious concerns for the others, good sirs, but not of any interest to me or my men. It is easily proved that we had only one meeting with the dead governor, and that neither my nation nor we three are party to any conspiracy. There is no crime in discussing the furnishing of mercenary troops."

  "Your associate, Tengri Ataman, can be charged with murder. He is a shaman, and Prince Ram-f-amsu's words implicate him as the one responsible for the crime."

  "What? What's this you say?!"

  Tuhorus pointed at the Parthian. "What I said is quite sustainable, as the Lord of the Pharaoh's Own Service, Utchat-neb Inhetep can testify to. Prince Ram-f-amsu spoke to him of that before he died."

  "Inspector Tuhorus is telling you the truth, General Sacaxes," the magister confirmed. "It need not be pointed out that the shaman is your man, so you too are guilty, my lord."

  "As a Parthian—"

  "A plot against Pharaoh denies you any such convenience, General. Certain others of your c abal also attempted to claim immunity."

  It seemed that all three wished to speak at once, but the shaman silenced them by simply staring down the general and the warrior called Vardin. "I assure you of our full cooperation, sirs," Tengri Ataman announced then. "In exchange for that, we will leave immediately after this."

  "What do you know that makes such an exchange worthwhile?" asked the policeman, looking uncertainly from the shaman to General Sacaxes and back again. "It seems quite plain that your involvement was strictly as mercenary troops bent on sundering this land."

  "On the contrary," Tengri Ataman said. "The prince was not simply out to acquire the services of wandering companies so common in our homeland, Scythia, Azir Minor, and the states around Grecia. Nor did he come to us in such a manner. Ram-f-amsu actually sent his agent to our own king to offer an alliance between Parthia and his to-be-formed kingdom—one which proposed a division of territory which would bring our land both westwards to the Middle Sea and southwards to include Bactro-kush and Farz."

  "So? What difference should that make?" Tuhorus asked with irritation. "It only stresses—"

  "He points out something highly embarrassing to /Egypt, Inspector," Inhetep interjected. "Even if Ram-f-amsu was a rebel and can be proven such, there will be great suspicion in the minds of the heads of the nations concerned. Such matters might be better left undiscovered, as it were." The ur-kheri-heb then addressed himself directly to Tengri Ataman. "Isn't that your implication, shaman?"

  "My openly stated avowal,' the Parthian responded with a hard tone.

  "Ah, but my magickal sir, what of the murders? What part did your spells have in the killings? The claims of assassins are not held in esteem by any sovereign. . . ."

  The magister's suggestion was such that the shaman couldn't brush it aside. To be linked to any one of the murders would consign all three to death, and nobody would pay attention to whatever else they might claim. "You could, of course, falsify evidence," Tengri Ataman admitted. "Yet we came to On only a few days ago. That is known widely and easily provable, so your connection of us to the whole scheme would be tenuous. Likewise, any physical or magickal involvement on our part in the deaths, for none of us knows how the killings were accomplished."

  "The whirlwind—both as the dead prince spoke of and as witnessed by Magister Inhetep— that's something!" the police official accused.

  "Circumstantial—and as puzzling to me as to you." The shaman shrugged. "Whatever castings or other powers were involved in Ram-f-amsu's murder came from some source beyond anything possible to me or any other mage of Parthia I know. It will be just as puzzling to others who investigate the case. General Sacaxes and I are by no means blameless in regards to certain aspects of this unfortunate business, but—"

  "But you are demonstrably not the true culprits, I know," the priest-wizard supplied. "Tell me one thing: what do you know of the 'Samarkand Solution'?" Inhetep asked, watching for deception in the reply.

  "Nothing," Tengri Ataman said simply. "I have been to the city of Samarkand in the last year, and I haven't heard it spoken of either. General? Vardin?" Both of
the other Parthians shook their heads and murmured similar negative responses.

  It was so, and the two policemen knew it. Inhetep then inquired, "What of a cleric, a simple uab priest named Absobek-khaibet, who was an assistant to the Hem-neter-tepi Matiseth Chemres. Have any of you knowledge about him?"

  "We met the high priest of Set only briefly. That was two days before the meeting in the palace where Prince Ram-f-amsu was killed," said the Parthian general. "We had no reason to visit Set's place of worship."

  Vardin spoke up for the first time. "I recall the fellow with the priest called Chemres—another servant of Set, from his garb and trappings. Wasn't he named Kibbet-something?"

  "Absobek-khaibet," Tuhorus corrected.

  The general didn't recall him, but Tengri Ataman snapped his fingers. "Yes, Vardin, I think you're right. It was at night, sirs. He was wearing some sort of headdress, and said little; but I do remember the high priest speaking to him, calling him Absobek-something."

  "Can you describe him?" Inhetep urged.

  "No—only as tall, slender, and possibly darker of complexion than Matiseth Chemres. It was dark. . . ."

  The magister and Tuhorus exchanged glances. "Well," Inhetep then said to the Parthians, "I believe we can now send you off to your return to your own land, although . . ."

  "Although?" queried the shaman.

  "Yes, there is a caveat. You must return all monies paid over to you by Ram-f-amsu or his associates or agents before I'll agree to your being freed." They objected to that, naturally, but eventually General Sacaxes grudgingly scribed a note to a Shamish banker in the city, ordering him to turn over all sums held in the general's name to the Metropolitan Prefecture upon demand. "Good," said the magister, smiling. "Here, Inspector Tuhorus, take this to whomever here is responsible, and have them get the funds and bring them back to be counted. When all is done, I'll have passes waiting for these three so that they can depart /Egypt immediately for their long journey home."