chair.

"Interesting. First he claims my child and then my apartment."

Auset walked around the table with the frying pan, ladling yellow-white curds of egg onto each plate.

Rekemheb stared with concentration at his plate. Perched behind him the Ba held the same intense expression on its tiny man face. After a few minutes, the Ka sat back in his chair as if nished dining, and the Ba began to preen his feathers.

Derek looked in disbelief at the untouched plate and then put a forkful of the uneaten egg in his mouth. He grimaced, swallowing reluctantly. "It tastes like...nothing. He ate the avor!"

Valerie paused in chewing toast. "Ah, that would explain a lot about ancient food offerings."

Auset chuckled. "A man who can eat his cake and still have it. I like that." She stirred her coffee and studied him, seeming to see him for the rst time. "Sooo, to what do we owe the pleasure of this...

visitation?"

The Ka listened as the question was repeated in Egyptian, folding his hands like a schoolboy on his lap. "The scribe said I should not rest, but be brought forth by a child of my lineage. That the Aton should rise in the west and that, in the hundredth generation, I should witness the Balance and the Book and the bearing of the Child." He smiled down at the swelling between Auset and the breakfast table.

"Well, that's a pretty complicated program. And the 'bearing of the Child,' I take it, is my contribution. Well, I can tell you right now that I am absolutely not-" A knock at the door forestalled the ultimatum.

"Oh, that will be Yussif." Auset got up from her chair.

She returned in a moment, and the Arab followed stif y behind her, carrying a folded newspaper and a manila envelope. He greeted Valerie and Derek, glanced furtively at the glowing Ka and Ba, and sat down at the maximum distance from them. Without introduction, he handed the envelope to Valerie. "I ask my friend to make good ones very large. I hope is okay."

She tore open the envelope and leafed eagerly through the package of photos. "Artifacts...good. Furniture...good. Osiris statue...not too bad. Wall paintings...really good. Oh, look. This is the best." She handed it to Derek.

An earnest young woman stood at a three-quarter angle before the wall of artifacts. Her frayed shirt, its sleeves rolled to the elbow, * 108 *

revealed the dirt of the day's work. Shoulder-length hair was pulled back carelessly behind her head, and strands of it hung over her ear.

Discernible behind the objects was the painting of the Barque of the Sun; a practiced eye could make out the gure of Seth with his hand raised. On the other side of the frame, one end of the sarcophagus could be seen, open and empty.

"This is the one I'll send to Brussels," she said with satisfaction.

"This one will bring Misterdoctor Vanderschmitt's hijacking to a screeching halt."

Yussif looked down at his hands on the table. "Maybe not." He slid the newspaper over to her, without glancing up.

"What's this?" Valerie slowly unfolded the Cairo Times onto the table.

There were two stories, side by side. The bigger story, four columns wide, grabbed her attention rst. TOURISTS ATTACKED AT KARNAK, it read , and she automatically skimmed the rst paragraph. A European tour group was set upon by three Sudanese terrorists. Several fatalities among the tourists. Two assassins captured by Luxor security forces; the third escaped.

The story held her interest for a moment, until her eye traveled to the right of the page. In two columns, over the full-faced photograph of Volker Vanderschmitt, a smaller headline declared: BELGIAN ARCHAEOLOGIST FINDS SEALED TOMB .

She exhaled slowly, laying her forehead in her open hand. "He couldn't wait."

"Is more. Please read whole story," Yussif said, his eyes still on the table.

She read on, tapping softly with the knuckles of her tightly clenched st as she read the details. She read the nal paragraph aloud.

"'The Supreme Council of Antiquities Of ce has called a televised press conference on Tuesday at 11:00 a.m. at which Dr. Vanderschmitt is expected to provide a detailed description and photographs of the discovery.'"

Everyone at the table fell silent while the clock ticked in the living room. Finally Derek reached over and took hold of Valerie's forearm.

"Don't do it, please. You're playing with re."

"Putain," she murmured at the newspaper.

* 109 *

* 110 *

CHAPTER XVII:.

A WORD TOO FAR.

The building on the Sharia Fakhri was as imposing as the name of the organization it housed: The Supreme Council of Antiquities. The long avenue running from the guarded entry gate to the splendid grand portal gave the arriving visitor ample opportunity to appreciate it. Four stories of successive archways in pale stone curving over glass windows suggested enlightened authority that looked back over time.

In the cavernous interior, the four oors were laid out in galleries around a central hall that rose up uninterrupted to the roof. Pale limestone walls and marble balustrades on all sides reminded of both cathedral and fortress and were clearly designed to inspire awe in the beholder.

Valerie was in no mood for awe. She hurried up the marble staircase to the second- oor conference room where a young man in a white uniform checked credentials at the door. With a faculty ID card from the University of Brussels she brazened her way in. Vanderschmitt had just nished his presentation-with drawings only, she noted-and the rst question was posed. "When do you expect to nd the burial chamber of the tomb?"

Vanderschmitt blanched noticeably as, stepping over video cables, the breathless Valerie joined him at the head of the room. Respectfully, congenially, as if the two colleagues had worked together for years, she turned the microphone toward herself.

"Dr. Vanderschmitt, please forgive me for arriving late. But I will be pleased to answer that question." The chairman placed his hand over the microphone and whispered, "What the hell are you doing?" There was a murmur of confusion in the room.

* 111 *

Ignoring his hand and the pressure of his arm against her shoulder keeping her from the podium, she continued speaking. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I am Dr. Valerie Foret. My colleague Dr. Vanderschmitt has perhaps neglected to mention that I was the archaeologist in charge who made the discovery of the tomb some days before he arrived. I am pleased to announce that in the meantime, while Mr. Vanderschmitt was on his way here, my team has uncovered the burial chamber as well."

There was a buzz of approval; two or three people applauded.

Vanderschmitt's hand slid from the microphone and he stepped back, defeated.

"As we had hoped, the burial chamber also contains a large number of ne funerary objects although, extraordinarily, the sarcophagus was empty."

Hands shot up with questions but Vanderschmitt interrupted, seizing the microphone. "Thank you, Miss Foret, but I have already discussed the artifacts of the tomb and their New Kingdom date."

Valerie walked away from the podium, drawing the cameras and the eyes of the audience along with her. It didn't hurt, she knew, that a young female archaeologist made better copy than a pedantic pear-shaped man. With the voice she was accustomed to using over the clatter of shovels on limestone, she continued her report. "The entrance to the burial chamber was through a mechanically sophisticated device concealed within the tomb wall. This would explain why Dr.

Vanderschmitt in his brief visit overlooked it. The importance of this nd cannot be overestimated. It not only provides a tomb household comparable to that of Tutankhamun, but also reveals something about New Kingdom technology and engineering."

Vanderschmitt was silent.

Flashbulbs ickered and a voice called out. "How do you account for the empty sarcophagus?"

Valerie continued in the same tone of authority. "The mummy seems to have been removed centuries, if not millennia, ago. While the absence of a mummy is unusual, it is not unheard of and can be attributed to any number of events-dynastic rivalry, local rebellions, etc. In any case, the artifacts, of incalculable value to the Egyptian government and to the world, remain untouched."

A second journalist stood up. "Dr. Foret. Why a single isolated tomb out in the desert and so far from the Valley of the Kings?"

* 112 *

"One ought not to speculate at this early date, but rivalries at court could account for the tomb being set so far away from known tomb areas. Personal enemies could still harm a man after his death by destroying his mummy and thus depriving him of the afterlife."

"Dr. Foret!" another voice called. "Could you identify the tomb owner?"

"Yes. The tomb inscriptions and paintings indicate that the entombed man was a lector priest, that is, a chanting priest-and a Nubian. An unusual combination. More details will of course emerge in the coming weeks. There is a fascinating story here, ladies and gentlemen, right at our ngertips."

Vanderschmitt held a frozen smile.

From the rear of the room a young Saudi in a red khaf a stood up.

"Given the richness of the tomb, would you say you are this decade's Howard Carter?"

Valerie suppressed a smile of her own. "I would never presume to. However, there is an interesting parallel with Mr. Carter's discovery of Tutankhamun-in that in both cases the initial discovery was made by an Egyptian child. Mr. Carter's water boy Hussein was the rst to uncover a stone slab of the tomb, and at my excavation, Ibrim, the son of my foreman Ahmed Nassar, came upon the rst limestone step.

Unlike Howard Carter, however, I have collaborated with my Egyptian assistant to catalog the artifacts. After all, the treasures belong to the Egyptian people, don't they?"

"And what does that treasure consist of, Dr. Foret?" The Saudi, who looked familiar, seemed to enjoy holding the oor.

"Now we're getting to the point, aren't we?" Valerie held up the manila envelope she had brought in with her. "I have prepared a list of the objects discovered in the burial chamber as well as a series of photographs of both rooms. I will of course leave these at the disposal of the Council of Antiquities along with the names of the Egyptian workers who were indispensable to the discovery." She walked back to the head of the table where the President of the Council sat.

Fuad al Rashidi was a man of about sixty, rotund and balding. A face that probably had once been handsome had become eshy from age and too many state dinners. No wonder his wife had lost interest in him, she thought.

"Dr. Rashidi. These photographs give you a rough idea of the contents. In addition to the usual funerary items, there is also a splendid * 113 *

golden sun barque." She handed over the pile of photographs. While Rashidi leafed through them with little grunts of admiration, Valerie allowed herself to glance over his shoulder. The president's wife sat demurely in a cushioned chair against the far wall. Glancing back at her, Madame Rashidi smiled and fondled the end of a necklace that hung over her discreetly covered bosom.

Valerie studied the Saudi journalist who had just spoken and sat down again. Under the precisely trimmed goatee the man's face was youthful and smooth, and it bore a remarkable resemblance to her own.

President Rashidi stood up and took the microphone. "The Council wishes to congratulate Dr. Vanderschmitt and Dr. Flora on their discovery. While the University of Brussels has had our full support in this undertaking, I am pleased to hear our friends con rm that antiquities remain always and ever under the control of the Egyptian people. My position is well known, and the Egyptian government will vigorously enforce this policy so that the pillaging of the previous century will never be repeated." He paused for a moment to look at the top picture of the golden barque.

"Given the obvious value of the newly discovered objects, my of ce will immediately dispatch a team to secure them. To you journalists I would say feel free to publicize, through this of ce, the progress of the excavation, but make clear to the world that security will be extremely tight. Access to the site will be permitted only with governmental authority, and any effort to remove objects of any sort will be severely dealt with."

He turned to where Vanderschmitt had been standing and, brie y befuddled at not seeing him, turned back to Valerie. "Once again, Dr.

Flora, congratulations." He held out his hand.

"Uh, that's 'Foret.' But I thank you, President Rashidi." She accepted the handshake. "I am sure that Mr. Vanderschmitt would be glad to accompany your team to the excavation site. I myself must return to Brussels for a few days. A...family emergency. But I should be able to return shortly, and I look forward to working with your team.

It is my opinion that there are no additional chambers to be discovered, although Mr. Vanderschmitt may wish to determine that himself."

She looked around for Vanderschmitt, but he seemed to no longer be in the room. No one remarked on his absence, and the entire audience * 114 *

of journalists and governmental of cials clustered around the table where the photographs were spread out. She edged through the crowd and eased out of the room.

Just outside the door, she felt a sleek hand take hold of her upper arm, and she looked over her shoulder. "Jameela." A pleasurable warmth spread through her.

"Congratulations!" The president's wife leaned over and placed an ambiguous kiss at the edge of her lips. "But you were here just three days ago. Why didn't you tell me you had found something? And now even your colleague has left without explanation. What was going on in there?"

Madame Rashidi's lips were lipsticked with precision in the color of feverish, swollen esh. Valerie couldn't take her eyes from them.

"Mr. Vanderschmitt's arrival was unexpected. A complication...that I must still deal with." Valerie glanced around, still saw no sign of him.

"I have urgent business, but I should be back in a few days, a week at the most. Can I call you?" she added in a quiet voice.

The beautiful lips came together in an O of regret. "I am sorry, Valerie. I would so love to celebrate with you, but I am rather tied up right now. You understand." Jameela's glance slipped sideways in the general direction of the conference room where the Saudi journalist was visible.

"Yes, yes. I understand. Of course." Valerie raised a hand in agreement.

At that moment, Fuad Rashidi summoned his wife back into the conference room, and Valerie stood in the empty corridor. It was a good moment to leave. She strode toward the central hall and reached the top of the wide marble staircase.

A familiar white suit blocked her way. Volker Vanderschmitt's face was tight with rage, and his normally thick lips were compressed to pale, thin lines. "What the hell did you think you were doing in there?"

"Doing? You mean, taking credit for the discovery which I and my team had in fact made?" She walked around him and took the rst step down.

Hovering over her, he said, "You forget that you and 'your team'

work for me. This little mutiny will have repercussions, I can assure you."

* 115 *

"You are threatening me?"

"You cannot remain part of an institution whose authority you defy.

The proposal was to dig at Qaret el Dahr, but on your own initiative and without permission you moved the excavation. Such behavior is not professional."

"Discovering the richest tomb in eighty years sounds pretty professional to me. It seems to me that the problem is not my failure, but my success." She took the next step down.

Abruptly he seized her by the arm and spun her back around to face him. "Your success?" His eyes narrowed. "Success is earned, not stumbled upon. You ounce in expecting washing facilities and security while you blunder about, and now when you get lucky, you want sole credit." He snapped his ngers loudly. "You demand your little rights, then bypass all authority. Well, I am the authority here, and you will not bypass me. I have had it with your sort."

She shook her arm free of his grasp. "My sort? So this has nothing to do with the excavation, and everything to do with me. A woman has invaded the wilderness of manly men and taken away the mystery. And the prize."

His glance traveled from her face over her canvas jacket and down her eld trousers to her boots. "Dressing like a man does not make you one. And stumbling upon a nd does not make you a scientist. You are unnatural and a corruption of the profession."

"How charmingly obsolete you are. Claiming to know what is natural and unnatural. Technology is unnatural; so are clothing and medicine. Civilization itself is 'against' nature. Your biblical argument is pathetic and you are pathetic."

His hand shot out suddenly and cracked against the side of her face.

Astonishment and sudden bright pain radiated through her head.

For the second time in three days, she held her hand over a ringing wounded ear.