CHAPTER
FORTY
“Marty,” François said. Had a million years passed, or twenty seconds? “Marty, the king.”
The king. Narmer.
With François’s help, Marty stood.
Around him, he heard warriors shouting victory cries. Some wept.
The rain was washing away the last of the puddle of goo that had been Seth. Its crushed standard-bearer lay dead in a pile of jewelry and clothing, gripping the standard.
Marty picked up the carved staff and was finally able to see the detail; its head was shaped like a stylized animal’s head. The bottom end of the staff was forked.
Involuntarily, he whistled. He ripped away the infinity-symbol banner and cast it aside. In the corner of his vision, he saw warriors seize the flag and tear it into shreds, hollering as each man claimed his trophy.
He stayed focused on the staff. This was the was scepter, a symbol of royalty used by millennia of pharaohs. Like many ancient Egyptian practices and symbols, its origin was shrouded in the mists of time.
The hooting and yelling calmed, the crowd of men parted, and Narmer approached. His step was vigorous and steady; he looked calm, while Marty felt broken.
He carried Marty’s banner in his hand, and he planted it now in the mud beside Marty.
“A proud flag for a mighty king,” Narmer said.
Marty looked up at Narmer and shook his head. “How can you have healed so completely in such little time?”
Narmer winced as he crouched to look Marty eye to eye. “I am not yet fully healed. Often a leader must show strength, even when he isn’t strong.” He clapped his hand on Marty’s shoulder and grinned. “Though I can say that I am much better than when you last saw me, despite my foolish priests and soothsayers. Whatever it is that your people did”—he nodded grimly—“it worked a miracle. Because I could see myself from above my bed the moment I stopped breathing. I still felt the power of the ankh coursing through me. And then something happened that pulled my ka back into its body and I began to breathe again. And now here I am.”
Marty handed the was staff to Narmer. “Your Majesty, this is for you. I know this as a scepter of power, a proper emblem for a king.”
Narmer hefted the staff. He smiled and nodded. “Thank you.” He pointed at the other items and motioned to Marty. “The rest is yours. I am content.”
Marty looked at what remained. The oversized kilt and sandals likely had no real value. On the other hand, he saw earrings, rings, bracers, pendants, and other jewelry. Some had been Seth’s, and some was worn by the herald.
He turned to François. “We don’t need this, but . . . the men.”
“I’ll handle it,” François said.
Narmer looked at Marty and asked, “Are you content?”
“I have lost much today, Your Majesty.”
Narmer nodded. “Brave companions have laid down their lives. But you have saved me, Your Majesty, for what that is worth.”
Which meant that Marty and the crew had kept history on track. Was history inevitably on track? Or had Marty been born into the Earth timeline in which he had saved Narmer, allowing him to unify Egypt?
He knew there were no definitive answers. What had Lowanna said? Something about chasing their own tails down theoretical alternate universes, but at the end of the day, having to make their choices and live with it.
“It’s worth a lot,” Marty said. “Perhaps I’m not content, but . . . accepting. However, there is one thing we will need to talk about. I know you don’t like the idea, but my crew and I still want to visit the tunnel.”
✧ ✧ ✧
They buried their fallen comrades in the rain, in separate graves. Gunther spoke words over the graves of Udad, Munatas, and Tafsut, and then sang “Poor Wayfaring Stranger.” Marty didn’t know the words, so he hummed along.
Narmer pronounced a blessing.
Then the people of Ahuskay and Jehed sang their own songs.
When the singing was done, Surjan and Marty stood alone. Marty looked over all the graves—over a hundred—and felt stunned.
He had failed them all.
And Carlos and Pedro, and their families?
Surjan wept over Tafsut’s grave for hours.
The rain stopped the next morning, and Marty’s visions stopped with it. It took three days for everyone to recover some semblance of health. For the entire three days, Marty had pleaded with Narmer to take them to the tunnel and show them its operation.
Marty and Narmer walked within sight of the Nile, the other members of the crew trailing not far behind them.
Marty turned to Narmer and said, “The people who came with me. Some will return to their homes across the deserts. Others would like to stay with you. Not all of them are warriors. There are merchants and other good people in the group.”
They had all fought beside him. They were all family.
Narmer nodded and waved in the direction of the Nile. “The gods will provide. They are all welcome at my table. You are also welcome. You know I believe the tunnel is a death sentence.”
Marty took a deep breath. “The tablet said this would be a battle, and it certainly was. The tablet also said there would be a contest for all of our people.”
Narmer frowned. “What tablet?”
Marty laughed as he spotted stone markers ahead. “One second.” He jogged toward the complex circle of stones and marveled at what good condition they were in. “In my day, this place is called Nabta Playa. It’s in ruins . . . when I’m from.” Marty ran his hand over the stones. “The weathering is only barely noticeable.”
Narmer nodded. “This is very old. We know it to show the summer solstice, and the rising of Sirius, and other important days.”
Marty waved Gunther over. The rest of the crew came with him.
“Hey,” Marty asked, “isn’t this where you found the tablet?”
Gunther stared wide-eyed at the stones. “Wow.”
“So you read in a tablet that you would fight for all our people,” Narmer said.
“I think it’s the whole human race,” Marty said. “I don’t know what the Builders wanted or who they were, but I think we’re supposed to be the champions of mankind. And I think we’re the very last, so we have to take our stand on behalf of humanity.”
“Even if it means being reduced to dust?” Narmer asked. “Even if there’s no real chance.”
“Yes,” Marty said.
“Yes,” the others agreed.
Narmer motioned to the west. “Come, we’re not far from the tunnel.”
Marty was close to tearing up when Narmer led them through the chamber to the tunnel. There was no hydraulic ramp, but a wide descending ramp, and then a massive wall, all obscured in the twenty-first century. Lowanna’s face was streaked with tears; they all stared.
Narmer motioned for the crew to follow and said, “I cannot tell you how much I do not want you to participate in this act. I know what you’ve said, and I know what has been passed down to me from my father and my father’s father.”
They entered the tunnel, which glowed dimly with light from some unseen source.
“The contest you speak of is like the test my father repeatedly taught me about. The heroes that are brought forth must endure tests to weigh the worthiness of us all. The Builders organized this contest to weigh our worthiness, and from all that I have seen happen in this tunnel . . . we are not worthy of anything but death. I implore you. Do not do this.”
Marty looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Last chance.”
“I’m in,” Lowanna said.
“We all are,” Surjan added.
“Amen,” François finished.
Kareem and Gunther just nodded.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Marty said. “We’re committed.”
Narmer nodded and led them to the blank wall at the end of the tunnel. The wall was clearly made of six slightly different colored panels, as it would be five thousand years later.
Narmer reached up and touched the top left corner of the first colored panel of the wall.
Marty glanced down at the tunnel wall and noticed a blank unengraved spot.
No instructions to himself.
Did he risk paradox by adding those instructions now? Did he risk paradox if he failed to add them? Was paradox even a relevant risk?
“Your Majesty,” he said. “Will you tell me the operation before you do it?”
Narmer obliged.
Removing his ankh from his belt, Marty crouched beside the unmarked spot. He took a deep breath and remembered Grandpa Simcha guiding his first motions with a wood chisel over a block of cherry. Steadily, calmly, Marty himself engraved the instructions that he’d end up following over five thousand years later. The guitars, the ballpoint pens, and the other images emerged easily, the stone peeling away like sculpting butter.
Narmer then touched all the panels in the prescribed order.
The six stone slabs blinked out of existence with a sound like the crack of a whip, followed immediately by a strong gust of dust-laden wind. Beyond lay a round, domed chamber.
Marty clasped forearms with Narmer. “Thank you for everything. All life, prosperity, and health to you, Your Majesty.”
Narmer smiled and patted Marty on the shoulder. “Life, prosperity, and health to you. And in these battles you believe you will face, I wish you . . . victory.”
Marty turned to the crew and grinned. “I suppose I’ll see you guys on the other side.”
Lowanna put her hand into his and he clasped it tight.
Narmer watched as the six walked into the dimly lit chamber. The moment they lined up next to one another, there came a brilliant flash of light, the chamber made a loud snapping sound, and the room sealed itself shut.
The king stared, then cocked his head to one side.
The adventurers, mankind’s would-be champions, had not been reduced to ash, as he’d expected.
He rubbed his hand across the smooth wall. What had happened?
Gingerly, Narmer touched the top left corner of the first panel and continued on through the sixth and final panel.
Nothing happened.
He tried once more and again nothing. For the first time, the chamber was sealed, even to him.
“Your Majesty.”
Narmer turned to see his lector priest, bowing his head. “What is it?”
“The path to Lower Egypt. The armies stand ready. They await your word.”
Narmer turned back to the wall and stared. If he could no longer open it, then he was no longer responsible for this thing that he had been burdened with.
A feeling of relief washed over him. “I am ready. Let us go forth. We shall rid the Two Lands of any remaining Children of Seth, and we shall make Egypt one.”
Marty walked into the round chamber holding Lowanna’s hand. He noticed six darkened spots on the ground he had missed before. He took his place on the leftmost mark as the others walked in; Lowanna stood on the mark beside his.
He sensed a static buildup in the air as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
The others followed his lead and one by one took their corresponding spots next to him.
He was about to say something when Kareem took his place on the final scorch mark and the world flashed white.
The hive mind sensed the interrupt the moment the test triggered it and launched a thread to service the interrupt.
“High-priority thread 4CR9J5 servicing a test trigger out of the Orion arm of the Milky Way galaxy. Planet Earth, local relative year is 3104 B.C.E.
“Interrupt Service Routine has received six test subjects for the next entry in the test queue. Forwarding the hash of the received data from the processing chamber. Awaiting command packet.”
The hive mind launched a separate thread to verify the hash of the data packet representing the test subjects and retrieve the next test entry.
“Verification routine complete. Status is success.
“Next test entry retrieved from the queue. Brane selected is sigma+654PWJZBE. Relative time is 252 B.C.E.”
The hive mind constructed a command packet with the necessary parameters and transmitted it to the awaiting thread.
“Command packet received. Processing . . . location: Indian subcontinent. Launching test subjects.”
A ripple in space-time confirmed the launch and the hive mind sent an alert to the Administrator. “Earth test subjects have completed phase one. On to phase two.”
Marty heard the thud-thud of six individual heartbeats as the chamber faded.
The beats continued even as the white all around him shimmered. Marty felt disoriented as he sensed himself moving. At the same time, he felt as if he didn’t have a body at all. He was a mind floating in the whiteness surrounding him and this time he knew something major was happening.
But what?
From the featureless surroundings something began taking shape.
A swirling vortex of color appeared in front of his mind’s eye. Again, just like last time. He was looking through a portal into another place.
Could it be another time as well? Maybe home?
But this time, instead of clearly seeing an image of where he was going and what he and the crew needed to do, the image was completely blurred.
Only occasionally did he see himself swooping down to eye level to catch a glimpse of land speeding by.
It was all a giant unfocused blur.
And just as his view through the portal seemed to pause on a single blurred image, he heard a deep voice echo loudly in his head.
“Welcome, Seer. It is time.”
The portal and the world of white exploded as Marty’s ears popped. He fell forward onto all fours as an intense bout of dizziness struck him. He clenched fistfuls of wet sand and held on as the world spun around him.
He smelled smoke and looked up, his eyes opening to a vast river just ten feet away.
Thousands of floating flower petals drifted by.
Surjan gasped. He staggered to his feet and walked to the shoreline. He breathed in deeply and panned his gaze all around them. “I can’t believe it!”
“What?” Marty asked.
Surjan pointed upriver. In the distance, a crowd gathered around a fire near the shore. They wore white tunics. And then Marty shifted his gaze downriver and saw the same image repeated. Another gathering of people. Another fire.
Marty climbed up to his feet and felt a wave of nausea. He knew where they were, or least he had a very strong suspicion.
“I believe we’re in India.” Surjan said it with a note of certainty. “And this looks like the Ganges River.”
“Yeah, but when?” Gunther asked.
The team looked to Marty.
He was the so-called seer.
He was supposed to have a vision of where to go.
Marty’s heart thudded loudly. He’d had a vision, but how was he going to help if most of that vision was completely blurred?
François patted Marty on the shoulder. “Well, Dr. Cohen. It looks like we’re on a new adventure. Where to now?”
Marty looked at all of their expectant gazes and shook his head. “To be honest, I have no idea.”