Sherlock Holmes and the Mummy's Curse (32 page)

“’Ere, Mistuh Holmes, suh!” he exclaimed, handing over a sheaf of papers and telegraph flimsies. “Oy gots ever’thin’ yer asked for royght ’ere, an’ ’en some.” He puffed up his chest. “Oy writ it all out me own self, Oy did, from t’ boys’ an’ girls’ reports.”

“Very good, Wiggins! You took my advice and you’ve been going to the school, I gather?”

“Yas suh! Oy kin bof read an’ write now, suh!”

“Capital! I’m very pleased. You will find that a proper education will only help you get ahead, lad. You might pass along the advice to the other Irregulars; it is likely to help me, as well. Now, let me see this.” Holmes accepted the rag-tag collection of scraps of paper and flipped through it, murmuring to himself. “Mm. A professor, eh? Of mathematics, no less. I suppose it makes for a good cover, though… indeed? He is quite serious about it, then. I shall have to keep my eye on him in future. This bodes… hm. Well, at least I now know whom I might consult on the other matter. Very good, Wiggins. The Irregulars have done an outstanding job this time. Payment at the usual scale, with a guinea bonus all ‘round. How many Irregulars were on the trail?”

“A round dozen, suh.”

“Very good then,” Holmes said, rising. “Let me fetch my pocket-book.”

* * *

The day after, while Watson was looking into the possibility of setting up a small practice in Baker Street, Holmes unpacked a few more things from his trunks. This included the khopesh, which he had had mounted on a plaque in Cairo, and which he now hung on the wall of his bedroom, opposite the bed.

Then he wandered into the sitting-room and over to his desk. There, he picked up the latest edition of the Times and studied its headlines, growing melancholy as he spotted a particular article. Reaching into his pocket, he extracted his pocket-book, opened it, and fished out a wrapped paper. Undoing it, he produced a little greenish-blue pebble with creamy markings, flat on one side. He let it lie in the palm of his hand, studying it for long moments, thoughtful.

Finally he opened the top drawer of his desk and tucked the little stone into the corner, where he could see it each time he obtained writing implements.

Thereupon he closed the drawer, walked over to the book-case, and took down his violin.

* * *

“Listen to this, Watson,” Holmes said a few days later, turning from his desk in their flat in Baker Street, where he still reviewed the strange scroll.

“I am all ears, Holmes. What is it?”

“It is the scroll that Beaumont wanted from the room containing the bluestone.”

“Great Scot! You have it? I thought it went down into the snake-pit with him!”

“No, no, he dropped it as he fell. ‘Flung’ is, perhaps, a more accurate term. I picked it up and put it in my pocket before we made our way out. I have been translating it; it is written in Sumerian cuneiform.”

“Sumerian! In Egypt?! Well, I suppose it is no less likely than a rock from Stonehenge being found in an Egyptian tomb. What does it say, then?”

“It appears to be possibly the original document from which Plato excerpted in his
Timaeus
. It is in a truly ancient and archaic form of Sumerian; I have put forth my utmost in its translation, and I think I may well have surpassed myself. I am rather pleased with my efforts. Hark:

“‘Many great and wonderful deeds are recorded in our histories. But one of them exceeds all the rest in greatness and valour. For these histories tell of a mighty power which, unprovoked, undertook such as would be against the whole of Europa and Asia and the lands beyond, and to which the Peoples of the Great Sea-Centre put an end. This power came forth out of the north of the Great Ocean, for there were islands there, many and habited, and one principal island situated in front of the straits which are by you called the Pillars of Heracles; the island group was larger than Libu’—that is Libya of our day, though by the context, they may mean all of North Africa,” Holmes interjected—“’and lesser Asia put together, and was the way to other islands, and from these one might pass to the whole of the opposite continent which surrounded the true ocean; for this sea which is within the Straits of Heracles is only a harbour, having a narrow entrance, but that other is a true Sea, and the surrounding land may be most truly called a boundless Continent.’”

“They could only be speaking here of North and South America, Watson, for they are in reality but one land mass, though that will change if France has her way with the canal across the Isthmus of Panama. It goes on:

“‘Now in this island of the Great Sea-Centre there was a high and wonderful confederation of kings, Aleteans which had rule over the whole island and many others, and furthermore, the men of the Great Sea-Centre had allied the parts of Libu within the columns of Heracles as far as Egypt, and of Europa north of Libu, and more beside, including the peoples and coalitions of that boundless continent across the Great Ocean. This vast power, gathered into one, endeavoured to subdue at a blow the whole of the region of Albion, which sued for peace. But afterwards there occurred violent earthquakes and floods, when a bolt fell from heaven; and in a single day and night of evil misfortune, the island of the Peoples of the Great Sea-Centre sank into the earth and disappeared in the depths of the sea.’”

Watson had pulled down his Jowett’s translation of Plato and followed a passage as Holmes read his translation. When Holmes finished, Watson looked up.

“It is indeed wondrous like, Holmes. Perhaps you have it. Or perhaps when Beaumont composed that before he hid it,” he gestured at the parchment in the sleuth’s hands, “he copied from Plato.”

“Possibly. But Watson… I had opportunity to decipher a few of the old… for want of a better term, ‘pre-proto-hieroglyphics’… in the chamber where we found the stone slab. I said nothing at the time, because it was… unexpected. More… it told that anyone who found the copy of the treaty itself could never leave the crypt alive.”

“What? So you knew…”

Holmes nodded.

“As soon as Beaumont opened that small compartment where the scroll was hidden, he triggered the booby-traps that were built into the place. Did you not hear the additional clicks? Those denoted the arming of the traps. As soon as anyone’s body weight rested upon the floor of the outer room, it would open up and let him down. That is why I let Beaumont leave, when I had him covered from the beginning with the derringer in my pocket; it was far better that he trigger the traps and end the matter, than that we should.” He paused. “More, I went back late the next day, only to discover that the floor had re-set.”

“But the wall inscription?”

“Yes. As I said, unexpected. For it read, in part, ‘
Herein lies the token of that treaty of peace between the Confederation of the Peoples of the Great Sea-Centre and that rebellious land of the islands to the north.
’ It was even the same phrasing… as one might expect of an international treaty which had been translated into the native language of one of the signatories. And Beaumont could not possibly have created those. Even his forged Middle Kingdom hieroglyphs were awkward, at best, and likely pulled from a lexicon of such; I doubt he could even read them—which is confirmed by his being unaware of the traps.”

“But… surely you jest.”

“Not in the least. Moreover, I have found a… a positive correlation, shall we say… between a particular Egyptian name and a certain Sumerian name in this scroll.”

“Tell on, then.”

“There is some confusion in archaeological circles,” Holmes explained, “over the name of the first Pharaoh. Based on different depictions of the hieroglyphs, some claim it as Ka; others make it Sekhen —a variant of Ka—and some hyphenate permutations on those, as I have mentioned before.”

“Yes, I recollect it.”

“A literal translation accepted by most has the name rendered into English as, variously, King Arms, King of Arms, or Arms King, similar to one or more of his successors, who appears to have been dubbed ‘King Scorpion,’ or the like,” Holmes continued. “At any rate, I found the name, or title, as it sounds to me to be rendered, inscribed in the antechamber of the crypt where we found the large bluestone slab. Now, the hieroglyphs reference arms as the limbs of a human body. Yet the Sumerian proto-cuneiform, which is even older, makes reference to a King of All Armaments.”

“What?!”

“I now believe, based on these various documents I have translated, that Pharaoh Ka-Sekhen is so much fiction, and the serekh, a play on words,” Holmes declared. “I believe the term refers to a THING, not a person.”

Watson blinked, and stared at a solemn Holmes for a long moment.

“So… you are saying that… it really…”

“Indeed.” Holmes nodded confirmation. “And the record of the chamber confirms it. No, Watson, this scroll is no forgery; it has lain there with the bluestone slab, concealed in the chamber within the Cobra Mountain for untold aeons, protected both by the cobra temple beneath, and the wile of a forgotten people. According to the document which was briefly in Beaumont’s possession, which I hold here and in which I have expended much effort in translation, and which may have had a twin that previously also had fallen into Beaumont’s hands, the nation we now know as Britain has been in existence in some form for far longer than anyone realised,” Holmes began, fingering the ancient parchment as Watson settled back with his pipe. “Known once as Albion, it, along with many other ancient peoples, comprised members of an alliance headed by no less than the actual, lost kingdom of Atlantis.”

“Atlantis?!” Watson exclaimed. “But that is only a myth!”

“Is it?” Holmes asked, sceptical. “I wonder. In any event, apparently Albion and her rulers grew… mm, cocksure, is perhaps a good way of putting it. Under the rule of one Goëmagot, whose title it seems was Gaawr Maddoc, ‘the Great Good,’ as I make it, the Albions constructed a device—a weapon—which frightened their allies and outright terrified their enemies. Insofar as I can tell, it was this device, and not a man, to which was given the title, ‘King of All Armaments.’ I gather it was not so much the capability of the actual device built that alarmed, as that was in nature by way of what engineers term a ‘prototype,’ but rather the potential of the overall concept which was dangerous. Were it to be brought to culmination, it seems Albion would have had the capacity to destroy Atlantis itself, in its entirety. Given that the entire nation of Atlantis seems to have consisted of a main island—named ‘Ætalente’ as nearly as I can make it—somewhat smaller than the main island of Britain, and a few accessory islands similar to the Hebrides, this might not have been as difficult as it at first appears. Though the archipelago would have been rather more spread out if the group were really the size of northern Africa. In any event, apparently Atlantis, in its technological dominance—at least, until this Albion weapon—was responsible for keeping the world peace. There were, apparently, numerous civilisations of that ancient day, both in the Old World and the New, of some considerable sophistication, and not all of them were of a peaceable nature. Some were, apparently, altogether vicious. So there existed a kind of ‘Pax Atlantea’ one might say, as once there was the Pax Romana, as now we have the Pax Britannica. Loss of the nation at the head of the coalition would have allowed Atlantis’ enemies—not all of whom were ALBION’S enemies, mind—to run rampant, descending the entire world into war, chaos and ruin such as has never been seen. A world war, Watson. Just imagine it. And so the coalition decided it must take action. It gathered a fleet and blockaded Albion.”

“What?! They started a war?”

“Not quite. They threatened it. With such a military force as would have ravaged the British Isles and laid waste.” He tapped the parchment in his hand. “From the tiny islands in the North Sea to the chalk cliffs overlooking the Channel, the land would have been left so desolate that nothing could have lived upon it.”

“But… but how? Nothing can do that!”

Holmes shook his head.

“I cannot tell, Watson. There are references to weaponry, to colossal war machines of land, sea, AND air, that I cannot translate, because they have no correspondence to our modern weapons.” He waved the parchment for antecedent. “There are gleaming silver airships, fleeter than the wind; swift naval vessels powered by something far stronger than coal; cannon the like of which we cannot imagine; something I can only describe as ‘death rays’…and explosives, Watson, explosives which bring down the lightning when they detonate, which wipe out entire cities in a single blast, which raise titanic clouds of, of, poisonous… dust, to settle on the surrounds in a black rain of death.” An appalled Holmes shook his head in perplexity, waving his hands in the air. “I am only able to derive this much from the descriptions in the parchment. I cannot begin to tell you how they function.”

“But that’s simply not possible, Holmes! It makes no sense,” Watson reasoned. “How can an ancient culture have weapons more powerful than our modern ones? Weapons not even we understand? Surely your translation is in error.” An earnest Watson leaned forward; his long-forgotten pipe extinguished itself, the thin trail of smoke drifting away and dissipating as it ceased altogether.

“I can assure you, it is not. And I shall get to the ‘how’ in a moment, Watson. Obviously, since we do not live upon a bleak, lifeless, Godforsaken rock, war did not ensue. This was because evidently Premier Goëmagot and his staff came to their senses when they looked out and saw the vast armada, and promptly sued for peace. A treaty was drawn up, and pursuant to that treaty, Goëmagot was deposed and later executed. The weapon at the centre of the structure we now know as Stonehenge was in essence destroyed: it was removed, completely disassembled, and sent to the Atlantean capital. Then Stonehenge as it existed at that point in time—merely the outermost resonance, support and aligning structure, for that was all which remained when once the weapon itself was removed—was partly dismantled, with a slab of that most peculiar blue diabase or dolerite stone being sent to every nation of the coalition as affirmation of the pact. Yes, yes, I know—we do not know how they moved such huge stones to begin with, let alone sending them to every continent of the known world. But however it was done, Stonehenge was left in large part even as we see it to-day, and never rebuilt.”