Indiana Jones and the Secretof the Sphinx (15 page)

"Stop!" Mystery shouted.

She emerged from the well, holding the Staff. Her hair was matted and she was covered with mud.

"I stole your stupid stick," she said. "I lowered myself down the well and swam the underground spring to the chamber. Let them go."

Ali shouted in Arabic for the men to grab her.

"You touch me and I'll break this thing," Mystery said. "You let Indy and my mother go, and then I'll
think
about giving this back."

Ali told them to stop.

"We cannot release them," he told her. "It is our law."

"Then you can just say good-bye to your most precious possession," Mystery said and applied pressure to the Staff. It bent over her knee like a bow, and when it began to crack Ali held up his hand.

"All right," he said and told the others to cut Faye Maskelyne free.

"What about Dr. Jones?" Mystery asked.

"He abused my trust and my friendship," Ali said. "For that alone, he must die—as you must die, for stealing the Staff. But I will let your mother go."

Faye stood up, rubbing her wrists. She walked over and took the Staff from Mystery. A sudden cool wind rustled the coarse robes of the men and the scarves of the women, and Ali thought he saw something like the glow of phosphorus playing about the length of the Staff.

"Give me the Staff," Ali said. "Then go."

"I'm not leaving without my daughter," Faye said, her blue eyes flashing. "Or my friend."

"They are to die," Ali insisted. "Go."

"Damn you,"
Faye said and pointed the Staff at Ali. "You're not going to kill anybody."

A thin bolt of lightning descended from the cloudless sky and struck the sand at Ali's feet, knocking the
khanjer
out of his hand and sending him flying backward.

The crowd retreated.

"Wowser," Mystery said. "Do it again, Mom."

"I don't know what happened," Faye said as she walked over to Indy. She drew a knife from her belt and cut him loose. "I was just angry, that's all."

"Remind me not to make you angry," Indy said.

Ali sat up and shook his head. His turban and robe were smoking, and puddled on the ground was a red-hot fulgurite where the sand had melted together.

"Could it be?" he asked. "A woman?"

"What's he talking about?" Faye asked as she helped Indy to his feet. "How's your ankle?"

Indy wiggled his toes.

"Funny," he said, examining the wound. "It's just a scratch. I could have sworn that Ali carved a hunk out of my ankle like it was a Thanksgiving turkey. But it's not bleeding now, and it doesn't even hurt."

"May I examine the Staff?" Ali asked.

"Why should I give it back?" Faye asked.

"Please," Ali said. "Allow me to see it, if only for a moment."

He held out his hands pleadingly.

"Give it to him," Indy said as he put on his sock and boot.

Ali took the Staff and tested its weight.

"It is much heavier," he said. "Bring me a lamp."

Someone brought a lighted oil lamp, and he examined the length of the Staff with it. He ran his thumb over the letters.

"Look," he said. "They are quite clear now."

"What?" Faye asked.

"The Hebrew letters," Ali said, offering her the Staff back.

"The name of Aaron," Indy said.

"This is really it."

"Of course, Mom," Mystery said. "You think you can summon lightning with any old stick?"

"You are the Expected One," Ali said.

"I'm no such thing," Faye said.

"The Age of Miracles has returned," Ali said.

"I wouldn't argue with him," Indy whispered in her ear. "Grab the Staff and let's get out of here."

"A woman!" Ali said in amazement.

"I told you I wasn't it," Indy said.

"Ah, but that is the way with dreams," Ali said. "And our lives are but dreams while Allah sleeps and Shaitan plays. Our prayers are merely supplications to Allah to continue sleeping, for when he awakes—the world vanishes."

8
Snake Charmers

Two weeks later, in the Muski—the ancient section of Cairo—Indy braked the Indian to a stop in front of a tenement building that he had visited many times. Mystery, driving the Scout with Faye in the sidecar, pulled up behind him. Both motorcycles were covered in dirt and mud, and badly in need of repair.

"Wait here," he told the Maskelynes as he pulled the goggles from his dirty face. He walked up the flight of stairs to an apartment on the top floor of the building, wiped most of the dirt from his face with his kerchief, and knocked.

A dark-haired girl of about three came to the door.

"Is your daddy home?" Indy asked in Arabic.

She looked at him blankly.

Another child came to the door, a boy, a little older and bigger than the first child. Indy repeated the question. The boy nodded gravely, but did nothing further. Finally, another girl joined the two youngsters already at the door, and when Indy repeated the question yet one more time, she called into the house.

Indy could hear heavy footsteps pad across the wooden floor, and soon a familiar face appeared in the doorway.

"Sallah," Indy said. "It's me."

Sallah stared for a moment, as if he were looking at a ghost, and then broke into a wide grin.

"Let him in, my little ones," Sallah said. "This is our friend, Indiana Jones, who has come to pay us an unexpected visit. Come in, please."

"I have a couple of friends downstairs—"

"Invite them up as well," Sallah said. "No, wait, I will send one of the children to fetch them. Are you hungry? We can make something; it will be no trouble. You look as if you have come a great distance." Sallah led Indy out onto the balcony, poured him some tea, and allowed him the most comfortable seat. The balcony overlooked a narrow alley, but beyond Indy could see the minarets and rooftops of Cairo.

"Forgive me for asking, my friend, but what spell has some wizard put you under?" Sallah asked, concerned. "You don't look like yourself—a pale, tired, older imitation of yourself, perhaps."

Indy smiled.

"If I believed in the religion of my ancestors," Sallah continued, "I would have to conclude that your
ka
has come to visit me on its way to the underworld."

"I'm no ghost," Indy said. "I'll tell you the story sometime, but not now. Rest assured that it is really me. I'm surprised to catch you at home this time of day."

"The Depression is felt the world over," Sallah said. "There have been few digs in this area since the late twenties. In addition, the
Service des Antiquites
has been making it increasingly difficult to obtain permits to continue excavations at the more famous monuments."

"Hold that thought," Indy said as Faye and Mystery joined them.

Sallah stood and kissed both of their hands. In her left hand, Faye held the Staff, wrapped in a thin blanket.

"You did not tell me you were traveling with such beautiful companions," Sallah said.

"Please," Faye said. "I'm sure I look frightful."

"What do you have there, my radiant one?"

"Open it," Indy said.

Sallah unwrapped the blanket. The Staff had grown thicker and heavier, and was now a rich brown color. Sallah ran his fingers over the Hebrew lettering.

"Surely this is a modern fake," he said.

"No," Indy said. "It's the real McCoy."

"How can you be sure?"

"We had a demonstration of its power."

"But this wood shows hardly any signs of aging at all."

"When I first saw it," Indy said, "it was nothing but a desiccated stick. Since then, it has changed into what you see now. And it is what has brought us to Cairo."

Indy spent the next hour telling Sallah about the adventures he and the Maskelynes had shared. When he finished, Sallah scratched his dark beard and took a sip of his cold tea.

"Do you know what my people call the Sphinx?" he asked.
"'The Father of Terror.'
It was once thought to be an eternal god, old beyond humanity."

"Will you help us?" Indy asked.

"Of course," Sallah said. "Anything I have to give, it is yours. But it will not be easy. We must work at night, and be prepared for the possibility of discovery—or intrusion. Tell me, this Japanese villain whom you blinded, is he still following you?"

"Not since Calcutta."

"Well, at least that is something," Sallah said. "We shall begin two nights from now. The moon will then be full, and it will help us to see while we are digging."

"Antiquities," the shopkeeper hissed. He was a gaunt man with a hawklike nose and a gold front tooth, with a cheap tarbush perched on his scalp, and wearing a dirty gray robe. "Priceless relics of a lost civilization. May I show you a royal scarab, perhaps?"

"We are not interested in your poorly made fakes," Sokai said.

"Sir, everything in this shop is genuine," the merchant said, pretending injury.

Jadoo was behind Sokai, and the old magician surveyed the contents of the shop with a practiced eye. There were the usual pieces of
ostraca,
limestone flakes bearing hieroglyphic prayers, building notes, and graffiti which had been gathered at the Giza necropolis; poor copies of funerary statues, the originals of which were housed at the museum in downtown Cairo; and assorted pieces of imitation jewelry, including copies of the golden beetle scarabs that adorned the breastplates of pharaohs.

"Sir, everything in this shop is genuine," the merchant repeated. "I have dug most of these items from the sand myself."

"In that case, you must have dropped them on your dirty floor," Jadoo said. "None of these items have seen the interior of a royal tomb."

"You injure my pride," the shopkeeper said. "Tell me what it is you seek, and I will help you find it."

"Something a bit more exotic," Jadoo said.

"I can take you downstairs. There, we have things which we cannot offer for sale to the general public. Forbidden things. Things which one can mix a potion in to help heal wounds, restore virility, prolong life."

"Ah, now we are getting somewhere," Sokai said. He shook a Lucky Strike out of the pack, put it to his mouth, and allowed the shopkeeper to light it.

"We have the best four-thousand-year-old mummies," the shopkeeper continued. "Fresh from the tombs, ground up, and ready to be used. The very best medicinal mummy anywhere. Or, you can take a full mummy home as a conversation piece."

"What is your name?"

"Ahkmed, sir. And yours?"

"My name is unimportant," Sokai said. "What matters is that I am looking for a trio of mummies of rather more recent vintage."

"Of course," Ahkmed purred. "What dynasty?"

"What time is it?" Sokai asked.

Ahkmed looked shocked.

"Are you suggesting murder?" he asked.

"Come now," Sokai said. "Do not feign revulsion with me. I know that the mummies you have for sale downstairs were walking and talking just months ago, that you steal bodies from graves, wrap them up, and leave them out in the desert until they are dry enough."

Not knowing what else to do, Ahkmed smiled.

"We have made inquiries," Jadoo said, "and those in a position to know say that you are the man to approach if you want to get things done quickly and quietly."

"Ah, but it will not come cheaply," Ahkmed said.

"Of course not," Sokai said. He withdrew his wallet from his coat pocket, extracted five ten-pound notes, and placed them on the dirty counter. "We are not talking piastres here. There will be another one hundred pounds for you when the job is done."

Ahkmed looked to see if anyone was watching, then scooped up the notes and placed them in the pocket of his robe.

"Tell me about the three," he said.

"They are in Cairo," Sokai said, "but I am not sure where. An American archaeologist, a woman friend of his who is a magician, and the woman's daughter. I want the man most of all."

"What is this man's name?"

"Indiana Jones."

Ahkmed laughed.

"Do you know him?"

"Everyone in the Muski knows Dr. Jones," he said. "It will not be difficult to find him, but his death will not be a popular thing. He is well-liked by the diggers. I must ask three hundred pounds for his death."

"Jones is not worth that," Sokai said. "I will give two hundred."

"Agreed," Ahkmed said. "Tell me, what is Jones seeking in Cairo? It will help if I know a weakness, if I can make them come to me, where I can work at my leisure, instead of murdering them in their beds."

"The Sphinx," Jadoo said, then looked at Sokai. "They are here for the Sphinx. That is all we can tell you."

"And, I want everything that they are carrying," Sokai said. "Every scrap of paper, every object, no matter how insignificant it may seem. Bring it all to this address." Sokai handed him a business card containing the address of an export company. "Do you understand?"

"Perfectly," Ahkmed said. "And after?"

"Deliver them to me, of course," Sokai said. "As mummies."

Mystery shuffled the deck of cards while Sallah's children crowded around. She fanned the cards, face-out, and asked the youngest of the girls to pick one. Four-year-old Jasmine smiled, but was reluctant to take a card.