Origins (32 page)

Chapter 49:  Did I Miss Something?

“
What happened
?” Alex yelled.

“I don’t know; something broke the mirrors,” Professor Russell responded while blinking his eyes furiously to clear his vision.  He wanted to shake his head back and forth as well, to get rid of the ringing in his ears, but the paralysis beam once again prevented the action.

Professor Russell’s heart stopped when he heard footsteps approaching from behind.  Slowly, Dr. Andre stalked around to stand directly in front of him with Frank’s rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Did I miss the part where the Doc was no longer on our side?” Frank attempted to mumble through his paralyzed lips.

“That makes two of us,” the professor spat.  “Care to explain yourself, director?”

Dr. Andre reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a small white gadget that reminded the professor of his daughter’s first iPod.  The doctor pressed a few controls and a half sized holographic image of a human body appeared in the thin air.  Dr. Andre touched the head on the image and instantly the professor felt the ability to move his head and lips once more.

“There, that should do the trick,” Dr Andre said casually.  “You all sounded ridiculous talking like that.”

“Excuse me if I don’t leap at the chance to thank you,” Professor Russell said with the hurt of betrayal in his voice.

Dr. Andre tapped a few more buttons on the device making the image vanish, and then returned the gadget to his coat pocket.

“Sorry, my friend.  You were getting entirely too close to the truth,” Dr. Andre began.  “I needed to get everyone who knew about this hidden room in one place to put a stop to your progress.”

“Friends don’t imprison each other now do they?” Professor Russell responded with an ice cold stare.  “Who are you, because you’re certainly not the man I befriended over the last several months?”

“Were I not your friend I would have taken the easy path and simply killed t
he three of you a long time ago.”

“People know we’re here in Egypt.  If we suddenly go missing a lot of folks will come looking for us.  You know that don’t you?” Professor Russell asked with the most ominous tone he could summon.

“Know it, professor, we are counting on it.”

 
“Who’s we?  What is this place?  Why are you doing this?” Professor Russell asked.

“Those are all good questions.  You need to be patient because the origins of all will be revealed to you in due time.”

Hastelloy stood quietly
among the crowd.  He casually glanced at the sky and was pleased to see the ash cloud was thinning out.  He could now see where the sun stood in the sky, but he still had no difficulty staring directly at the bright solar body.  Though it was mid day with the sun at its peak, the land still had the look of darkness just after sunset.

The ringing in Hastelloy’s ears was almost completely gone, but what he did hear sounded like it was coming through a tin can.  The echoing effect was disorienting, but he was able to hear everything now without difficulty.

For the first time in weeks, Hastelloy didn’t have to constantly swat a swarm of flies and gnats away from his face.  Just as Tonwen predicted, the locusts consumed the flies and then moved on as quickly as they came upon the city.  The only evidence they were ever there was the millions of dead grasshoppers littering the ground.  People couldn’t avoid stepping on them as they walked, giving each footfall the cadence of a wet crunch.

A thunderous roar came from the crowd that brought Hastelloy’s attention back to the pyramid.  A flight of stone stairs consisting of 365 short but wide steps rose 100 feet up the north face of the pyramid.  Upon the apex of the steps stood the grand entrance to the pyramid.  The newly crowned Pharaoh stood triumphantly in front of the massive bronze doors Hastelloy had employed in his attack the prior morning.

Pharaoh yelled at the top of his lungs for the entire city to hear about the greatness of his brother, the accomplishment of constructing the pyramid, and a host of other topics Hastelloy did not comprehend the language well enough to interpret.  Whatever the subjects were, it had the crowd of over 200,000 riled up.  Speeches by individuals to large crowds often had this effect.  Hastelloy was reminded of his first psychology professor back in the academy who told him that individuals are intelligent, but mobs are dumb as a fence post and easy to manipulate.  Pharaoh may not have attended the same lecture, but he was intimately familiar with the principle.

Mosa gently tapped Hastelloy on the shoulder to announce her presence.  Hastelloy didn’t turn to greet her; he simply inclined his head toward the princess in acknowledgement.  Without any prompting, Mosa began translating Pharaoh’s words for Hastelloy’s benefit.

“Great are the accomplishments we have achieved together.  Great is our monument. Great have our harvests been, and above all, great is our culture,” Mosa interpreted.

“A true test of our greatness is upon us now.  There is not a man, woman or child among us who has not felt the sting of insects, smelled the stench of our poisoned river, or felt the pain of hunger in our bellies.  I am here now to tell you the suffering of our people is at an end.”

Pharaoh spread his arms wide and raised them above his head.  “Behold.  The light in the sky is returning.  The insects have gone and the river now flows with fresh, clean waters.  I know many of you fear the swarm of locusts consumed all our food, but you would be wrong.

“The great god Anubis may be gone now, but we learned our lessons from him well.  The seeds stored in the royal granaries were kept safe from insects and will now be planted in the fields.  With the restored flow of fresh water, the harvest will be plentiful and none of us will feel the sting of hunger again.”

The crowd exploded with cheers and applause.  Pharaoh waited patiently.  He was in no hurry to continue.  He knew how to play the crowd, and he didn’t want to rush their exuberance.  It was a valuable asset to him. 

As the roar of the masses slowly faded, Pharaoh finally extended his arms out in front of his body and motioned downward several times to induce a quiet over the crowd.  It was a nice touch Hastelloy thought.  Rather than letting the silence fall over the crowd on its own, it now looked like he commanded them to do so.  It was a subtle but important display of his continued power over the crowd.

“The bountiful harvest will not come on its own,” Pharaoh paused to let his ominous foreshadow hang in the quiet air.  “It will take work to prepare the fields and plant the seeds.  Then it will take time for the crops to grow, and still more work to harvest them.  This will not be easy, but I have faith in our people.  I have faith it will be done.

“The plagues that afflicted us these past weeks are now lifted.  I fear this may have come at a terrible price though.  I struck a bargain with Mosa and her god.  The cost of this bargain to our great kingdom could be devastatingly high, or none at all.  The severity of the arrangement rests on all of you.

“This famine we face does not care if you are a slave, a soldier, or even Pharaoh.  It will affect every one of us.  Therefore we must face this famine together as equals.  In exchange for lifting the plagues, from this day forward there are no slaves in this land.  We are all citizens of this great nation we have formed.  We will face this famine as one people - the people of Egypt.”

Once again the crowd erupted with praise for the words they heard.  So profound was the sound of their elation that Hastelloy had to cover his ears to keep from losing what hearing he’d managed to recover.

The crowd died down and Mosa continued her translation efforts, “As free people I cannot force you to stay and work the fields with us.  I can only promise that if you stay there will be food, clothing, and shelter for all who are willing to work for them.

“Your alternative is to join Mosa.  Leave the comfort and protection of our fair city, and march out into the desert and face the harsh realities of the unknown.”  Pharaoh allowed a pregnant pause to occupy the crowds mind. 

“Any who wish to leave may go without risk of harm, but know this.  You will have willfully turned your back on your people.  If you try and return to this land you will be persecuted as traitors. 

Pharaoh took two strides down the steps as a show of solidarity with his subjects below.  He abruptly stopped and stood with his hands clasped behind his back.  “You have one hour to make your decision to stay and work as free men, or leave this city forever.  Any among you choosing to leave must present themselves at the northern gate of the city.  There you will be branded with the mark of an exile and sent out into the desert with Mosa to lead you.”

Not a person in the crowd moved a muscle for several uneasy heartbeats.  Everyone, from the soldiers standing guard to the lowliest slave, was stunned at what they just heard.  Eventually, as if the crowd was moving in slow motion at first, people made their way back to their respective tents.

Mosa leaned over Hastelloy’s shoulder.  Her lips were mere inches from his right ear so her voice could be heard over the din of the masses.  “He certainly sold short the prospect of leaving the city didn’t he?  I’ll be amazed if anyone comes to the north gate an hour from now.  Looks like I may be wandering the desert alone.”

Slowly, Hastelloy turned to face Mosa for the first time since her arrival next to him.  “Not to fear princess.  You’ll have at least four companions on your wandering journey,” Hastelloy countered with a loose grin.

Pharaoh’s hour deadline
came and went in a flash.  Contrary to Mosa’s prediction, roughly two thousand men, women, and children gathered at the north gate waiting to be set free. 

The scene was utter chaos.  Carts carrying tents, clothing, and whatever food was left littered the narrow streets.  Despite the mayhem of the moment, the exuberance of those choosing to leave was unmistakable.  There were no fights, arguments or people jostling to get ahead in line.  They all waited patiently for their turn while enjoying the freedom they were taking for themselves.

Hastelloy stood next to Mosa near the locked gate.  An uneasy feeling was brewing inside his stomach.  This was an ideal way for Pharaoh to round up all his enemies in one place and have his soldiers attack. 

Hastelloy calmed his nerves with the knowledge that from Pharaoh’s point of view there was no real reason to kill everyone.  In Pharaoh’s opinion the slaves were being led into the desert to die.  There was no need to murder a few thousand and upset the couple hundred thousand choosing to stay.  Nature would do the deed for him. 

As the minutes passed, Hastelloy batted the two ideas back and forth in his mind like a ball in a tennis match.  It didn’t make sense for Pharaoh to attack, but the man did have an ego that needed stroking.  The situation was a toss-up.

A commotion on top of the stone gatehouse drew Hastelloy’s attention.  Pharaoh struck a stately pose in the middle of the archway that ran across the northern gate.  The two massive wooden doors remained defiantly closed and under heavy guard from several hundred soldiers.  The moment of truth was at hand.  Would Pharaoh raise his hand and order an attack, or would he keep his word and let the people go?

Pharaoh spoke and Mosa once again orated a translation.  “My heart is heavy with grief that so many choose to betray me and my people.  You bring shame and disgrace upon yourselves, but you are free men now.   It is your right to make such foolish decisions.”

Most in the crowd had a deep-rooted hatred of the Pharaoh and his kingdom.  To them the city brought a year of hard labor, torture and rape.  These thoughts were at the front of their minds so Pharaoh’s admonishment bounced harmlessly off of them.  Those in the crowd who were not so sure of their hatred gave his words credence.  There were not many, but Hastelloy noticed some in the crowd sporting thoughtful looks as they internally examined themselves and reconsidered their choice.  These were the people Pharaoh was addressing.

The fact that Pharaoh was trying to convince more people to stay lifted Hastelloy’s spirits since it reduced the likelihood that a massacre was in the offering.  He listened to Mosa’s translation as Pharaoh continued.

“I see you have come with carts to carry belongings out of the city with you.  Why would you feel entitled to take these things that were granted for you to use by me?”  Pharaoh paused.  Everyone present knew what was coming next and Pharaoh wanted to let the anticipation hang in the air and fall over the crowd like a wet blanket suffocating them.  “These things do not belong to you, they belong to this kingdom.  The carts, the tents, the food, even the clothes on your back have all been given to you by me.  If you choose to leave this great city, then I will have my property back.  You own nothing so you will leave with nothing.”

That did the trick.  Those on the fence about leaving immediately changed their minds.  Pharaoh looked around with a smug smile as he watched hundreds turn around and return to the city.  Like a tidal wave, the momentum of those immediately choosing to leave pulled others nearby along with them.  No less than half the crowd faded back into the city.

Realizing he had the crowd right where he wanted them, Pharaoh signaled for the gates to open.  As the doors slowly parted, Hastelloy caught a glimpse of the next deterrent.  Five fires burned brightly with branding irons for cattle resting inside them.  In unison, ten guards around each fire, fifty in all, pulled their irons from the fire to display a glowing red six-pointed star consisting of two overlapping triangles pointing in opposite directions.

Men in the crowd drew in a breath and held it, most women let out a frightened squeal, and the children began crying at the prospect of having the symbol seared onto their skin by hot metal.  More people turned around and walked back into the city.

“If you truly wish to leave my protection you will strip down to your bare flesh, proceed through the gate, take the mark of a traitor, and never return.” 

With his final words spoken, Pharaoh strutted down from the gatehouse using a narrow set of steps on the left side and strode back into the city under the protection of his guards.  He never once looked upon the crowd again, as if their decision was ultimately unimportant to him.

Mosa looked up at Hastelloy with an unflinching stare.  Without a word spoken, she untied the rope around her waist, slid the dress straps off her shoulders and allowed the garment to fall to the ground.  Completely naked, she glided toward the fire pits.  With a sadistic grin, the guard eagerly pressed the red-hot iron to her right shoulder.

A soft, sickening sizzle was heard and smoke rose from the point of contact.  Soon after, Hastelloy caught a whiff of burnt flesh in the air.  If the process hurt at all, Mosa showed no signs of pain.  When the hot iron was withdrawn, Mosa proceeded forward into the desolate desert that filled the horizon as if she didn’t have a concern in the world.  She never once looked back.

The tremendous amount of respect and esteem Hastelloy already held for Mosa grew exponentially at that moment.  She was truly an inspiring leader.  One he would follow to the end of the world if he didn’t already have his own agenda.

Hastelloy turned his head to see Gallono, Tonwen, and Valnor standing behind him.  He gave them a subtle nod and all four men disrobed and followed Mosa’s example.  They took their brand without a sound and walked on. 

Hastelloy couldn’t help stea
ling a glance over his shoulder.  Unlike Mosa, he was not so confident others would follow.  To his great relief, hundreds of naked bodies followed her lead.