Paradeisia: Origin of Paradise (20 page)

“When you began your testimony, you mentioned several different categories into which people fall in reference to psychic phenomena.  Whether you are a believer or not, and so forth....”

“Yes.”

“Well, I propose that there is a tenth group: those who believe in these phenomena, fully understand them, and use them, or channel them, to their own benefit and the benefit of others.”

“Well that would certainly be a hypothetical group, yes.  But I fear no such group exists.”

Abael stared at him with beady black eyes, his head tilted oddly and slowly sinking towards his chest.  Doctor Martin almost thought that the man had fallen asleep with his eyes open, but then he opened his mouth with a pop and said, “Why is that?  Why would you believe no one knows and understands these phenomena?”

“Well because no has come forward with a credible claim.  Anyone I have seen yet who avows to channel these abilities generally turns out to not have his head screwed on properly.”

Abael said, “So to make such a credible claim, a person would necessarily be required to explain what he knows and provide some empirical evidence that he has the power to channel these so-called psychic abilities?”

“Well certainly yes.”

“So you assume that someone in possession of such power would necessarily be willing to share it?”

Doctor Martin took a deep breath, thinking.  He thought he knew where this man was coming from.  He said, “If you are suggesting that some government, for example, the United States government, understands and utilizes this power for the advancement of national interest, then you are right I would not expect that they would be eager to disclose the fact.”

Sharply, A
bael retorted, “No, that is not what I mean at all!”

Doctor Martin waited for him to explain what he
did
mean, but he made no indication that he intended to do so.  Doctor Martin prodded, “What do you mean, sir?”

Slowly, Abael lowered himself back into his wheelchair.  He straightened his tie.  Then he looked up and said, “I am coming soon.  You will see what I mean then.”

“Coming where, sir?”

“
I am coming soon.”

Cairo, Egypt
Airport

She held out her hand, “I am glad to finally meet you in person, Doctor Katz.”  She had long well-defined eyebrows that were perfectly arched over large brown eyes—highlighted by purple eye shadow.  Her loose airy top and pants were not enough to disguise her attractive figure, and the head scarf she wore only enhanced the mystique of her beauty.

No matter how attractive she was, though, to Doctor David Katz, she was off-limits.  He was a widower with three children, and not looking.  But aside from that, the fact that he was a Jew
just off the plane from Israel and she was a betrothed Muslim in Egypt was more than enough to prevent a relationship.

Doctor Katz thought, as he often did in these situations, that it was odd how people from different countries frequently had to resort to English if neither of them knew the other's language. 
It was Babel.

Shaking her hand, he smiled, “No more email!  Thank you for picking me up, Miss Fayed.”

“Call me Layla,” she said seriously.

He was the head of Middle Eastern and African History at Tel Aviv University, a position he had only recently lamentably accepted after the sudden death of his mentor.

Doctor Katz had happened across Layla's blog via an internet search for “mummy DNA.”  She was an amateur historian studying at the Cairo University and had authored reams of well-documented data on the pharaohs; especially about Akhenaten.  On her blog, she frequently diverged from the official Egyptian Ministry of Antiquity talking points and even criticized the ministry's head for what she called “self-aggrandizing tactics.”  This freedom of expression was very rare for Egyptian scholars, particularly those who didn't want to kill their careers.

Especially intriguing to Doctor Katz was one article in which she outlined why she believed the notorious KV55 mummy could not possibly be Akhenaten, as the Ministry said, and created a different family tree for Tutankhamen than the Ministry's.

Doctor Katz prided himself on being open-minded.  That is why he had emailed her and a frequent dialogue had begun; anything that challenged the status quo attracted his attention.

Beautiful young women also attracted his attention, and his work as a professor at a university full of them was usually enough to satisfy his appetite for them—and had frequently been enough to get him into trouble with his late wife of five years.  Of course, he never did anything more than look, but he didn't think his wife had ever believed him when he
had declared himself innocent.

Regardless, his wife certainly had not shared his fascination with the past as his students did.  The most he had ever got out of her when he had tried to share his excitement was a sigh; usually she had rebuked him to “save his lectures for the university.”

Aside from lecturing, he spent a great deal of time with his students at archeological digs or visiting his connections at museums and colleges to chase down answers to little mysteries he discovered.  In the evenings, he was generally found with his students at their usual haunts; bars, clubs and even their dormitories.

The truth was, Doctor Katz was hip; he couldn't help it.  To emphasize the point, he wore a bandana on his head, a chain around his neck with a silver star of David, and loose-fitting clothes.  He was never clean-shaven, preferring to look more on the adventurous side.

In all their internet exchanges, he had somehow been imagining some mole-faced older woman with glasses, a head covering a
nd a big drape-like kaftan.  That’s why he was surprised to see now that Layla was young, brilliant and appraising him with her gorgeous eyes.

She said, “A taxi will take us to the museum.  There I will show you my discovery.”

As they walked, Doctor Katz sensed Layla's eyes look him over again, and narrow.  She wasn't impressed.  She apparently didn't appreciate his casual appearance the way his students did, despite her youth.  She probably took it to indicate incompetence. 

A challenge,
he mused.  He had faced this kind of prejudice over and over again among elderly scholars, and every time had proven it baseless.  How ironic that now he faced the same skepticism from a youthful beauty.  Doctor Katz was nothing if not competent, and he would prove it to her.

When they slipped into the back seat of a taxi, Layla asked the driver, “Do you speak English?”

In English, he said, “No,” and shook his head.

“Good,” she said.  Then, in Arabic, she instructed him to take them to the Cairo Museum.

As they rode in the taxi, Layla slipped some documents out of a briefcase and got down to business.  It was a chilly day in Cairo, but fortunately it wasn't too chilly for the windows to be open: the driver's odor was foul.

The KV55 tomb was discovered in 1907 in the same area of the Valley of the Kings as the Ramesses II, Tutankhamen and other notorious pharaohs' tombs.  The mummy inside KV55 had never been successfully identified, however.  Several possibilities for an identity were put forward, but there had never been any way to conclusively decide who it was.

When DNA analysis was finally performed on it as well as a number of mummies found in nearby KV35, some supposed facts were presented by the Ministry.  First was that KV55 was Akhenaten, the pharaoh famous for introducing worship of a single god, Aten, to the Egyptians.  This religion lasted only as long as Akhenaten did, but there was a great deal of mystery surrounding what happened to his notoriously beautiful wife Nefertiti.  Some said that she ruled after Akhenaten died.  Some said that another person from the family, “Smenkhare” perhaps, had seized the throne.  Everyone agreed, however, that Tutankhamen ruled after this brief period of uncertainty.

Layla showed him the Ministry's version of Tutankhamen's family line:

Amenhotep III and Tiy bore Akhenaten who then fathered Tutankhamun with Nefertiti (his cousin).

She had reasoned that, given obvious allele generational jumps, the DNA showed that the stillborn fetuses could not have been maternally grandfathered by the KV55 mummy, which the Ministry proposed was Akhenaten.  (An allele was an alternative form—by mutation—of a gene located in a certain place on a certain chromosome.) 

She showed him her own version of the family tree:

Amenhotep III and the mummy known as the “elder lady” in tomb KV35 had
borne Akhenaten who then, with Nefertiti (his cousin), bore the mummy known as the “younger lady” in KV35.  Smenkhare, who very likely was the KV55 mummy, fathered Tutankhamen through this “younger lady.”

If Layla's version was accurate, it would mean that the Akhenaten mummy was still missing.  Since virtually every record of his existence was defaced, destroyed, or disassembled by subsequent Pharaohs, this was not surprising.

At least, Doctor Katz wasn't surprised.  That is, he wasn't until she dropped the bombshell.

“I asked you to come, Doctor Katz, because you are the only one I trust,” she said.

“I hope I am worthy of it.  You said you've made a very big discovery and I had to come down here right away.”

“Yes.”

“So what was this discovery?”

“Akhenaten's mummy is in the museum basement.  It was there all along.”

He just stared at her, dumbfounded.

She said, “He was hidden.  They didn't want anyone to see him.”

“Why?”

“The same reason all the Pharaohs tried to erase his memory.”

“What reason is that?”

“Look at these pictures.  See if you notice anything strange.”

She showed him a series of paintings of Akhenaten and his family, and a photograph of one small statue.

“I've seen all these before,” Doctor Katz said.  “You mean besides his feminine shape?  Nothing looks strange to me.”

“The strange thing is that Akhenaten is huge.  Look how much taller he is than Nefertiti, even when they are seated.  And look at this little statue of Akhenaten with his daughter on his lap. 
That's not his daughter at all.  That's his
wife
.”

Doctor Katz reexamined the images.  He protested, “But Pharaohs are usually pictured taller than those around them in ancient Egyptian art.”

“Yes, but not
this
much taller.  And look at this, even his chief general Horemheb,” she pulled out another image.

“Layla,” he chided.  “You must know that this kind of artwork is not necessarily proportionate.”

She rolled her eyes so quickly it was barely discernible, “Yes, but
look at him
.  If this was proportionate, he would be three to four meters tall at least!  This isn't a simple exaggeration.  This is a representation of fact.”

“So you're saying he was a giant?”

“No, he was more than just a giant,” she said emphatically.

“What do you mean?”

“I'll show you his mummy.  You can see for yourself.”