“So which small town in which unimportant state are you from?” Jax said.
“Excuse me?”
“Oklahoma’s my dirty secret. I was just wondering what yours is.”
“I live in New York. As in New York City, New York.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I must be getting drunk,” she said. “Is my Kentucky accent coming out again?”
“It’s your walk. You’ve got that strong sexy sway that isn’t city-bred. City girls are daintier.”
“I’m not dainty? So what am I, plodding? Lumbering? Bovine?”
“I meant it as a compliment. I should cut my losses and move on, shouldn’t I?”
“Why don’t you just forget the seduction bit, because it’s going nowhere, and tell me why you left Oklahoma.”
He chuckled. “You’re some kind of woman.”
“So what was it? A girl? Military brat?”
“Same thing you’ve got, I guess, just a bit more extreme. I was bored. Joined the army after high school, and never looked back.”
“What about your family?”
“I’m adopted, and let’s just say nobody was fooled.” He downed the rest of his martini and signaled to the bartender. “I’m cursed with high tolerance.”
“Have you been back?” she asked.
“Once, before my foster parents both died of lung cancer.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry they had to go like that, but like I said, I just got the luck of the draw at the adoption agency. I had more in common with some of the animals at the Des Moines zoo, and they never let me forget it.”
“No childhood friends, class reunions?”
“I got larger and the world got smaller, if you know what I mean. It’s hard to go back to Big Danny’s Bowl and Buds once you’ve left. If I never see another cow I’ll be ecstatic.”
She laughed. “That I understand.”
He raised his glass in salute. “We’re in Cairo now, right? And what about this elixir thing? Is it for real? A modern day fountain of youth?”
“The literal fountain of youth doesn’t exist. You can’t reverse aging. What’s in this test tube, at least according to Stefan, is within the realm of science. A possible answer to cellular senescence. I don’t know what the long-term effects of such a thing would be. Nobody does. I can tell you they’d be earth-shattering.”
Jax leaned in. “You’ll do anything for that story, won’t you? You don’t even care about the contract on your life. We’re the same, you and I.”
“We’re nothing alike.”
“Is that why your eyes shone like the Eiffel Tower when I mentioned the elixir?”
She took a long drink.
“We’re from the same place,” he said, “with the same kind of drive. Mine’s a different poison, but the end goal’s the same.”
“I can assure you we have very different goals.”
“We want relevance, love. Nothing more, nothing less. To be noticed. Not by anyone else, no, that’s a byproduct. We want to be able to notice ourselves.”
She didn’t answer, and he laid a hand on her arm. “They’re closing shop. Why don’t I buy a bottle off our girl here so we can continue this party upstairs?”
She looked down at his hand. She felt a warm tingle in her arm, and it spread throughout her body, an inebriated shiver of pleasure.
• • •
Grey had been tossing and turning for an hour. Now someone was knocking on his door, and he or she wouldn’t stop. He grunted and threw on a pair of jeans. He heard Veronica mutter, “I know you’re not asleep.”
He opened the door and she shoved him against the wall and kicked the door shut. Her mouth found his, and then her tongue, warm, insistent. Alcohol and perfume had formed a sensual union, and his own lingering inebriation ushered in the scent. She grabbed him from behind and pulled him tight.
He put his hands on her shoulders and forced her back. He tried not to look at the pleasing little arcs at the corners of her mouth. He opened his mouth and she put a finger on his lips.
She traced her nails down the front of his chest and smirked. “I’m not really interested in anything you have to say right now. I don’t want to hear about your confused feelings,” she reached down and slowly pulled off her sweater, “your philosophical bullshit,” she reached back and unhooked her bra, “your sense of honor,” she unzipped her pants and stepped out of them, “or any past loves you haven’t seen for months.”
She undressed all the way, then pressed into him. He felt the milky softness of her breasts curve and flatten against his skin, and he groaned as she kissed him. This time he reached for her.
She peeled off his jeans and reached for the light. He stopped her. “I want to see you.”
They fell to the floor, and she came up on top. He entered her, and she clutched his chest and arched.
• • •
Veronica was in the shower when Grey woke just after dawn. A few minutes later she emerged, pale and glistening, a towel wrapped around her head. She sat next to him on the bed and stroked his hair, her voice pensive. “What if these scientists really have discovered the elixir of life? What would it mean to relationships? Would you still marry someone if you knew you were going to live to two hundred? Two thousand? Two million? It would change everything.”
“Men have been asking that question for centuries,” he said wryly.
She gave him a playful punch. “If what’s in there is even half what Stefan says it is, then the world as we know it will change. Not to mention the economic inequalities it will cause. Who gets it? How much do they get? When do they get it? Something like this could lead to class wars on a scale never seen before.”
“Doesn’t the whole concept contradict everything we know about biology? If we’re programmed to reproduce and die and that’s about it, how can nature allow for such a thing?”
“We don’t know how nature will respond. Every time we make gerontological advances, nature throws some new disease at us that makes the previous life-threatening diseases look like a stubbed toe. Something like this… it’s breathtaking. A scientific advance that could rival the supremacy of nature.”
“What if it’s not scientific? What if they got this from somewhere else?”
She snorted. “Like where? God?”
“Nature itself, maybe. An aberration.”
“This stuff was made in a lab. Bank on it.”
She pushed him flat and crawled on top of him. She ran her fingernails over his chest while he gazed up at her. “I know those men in Bulgaria weren’t the first men you’ve killed.”
Grey took a short rapid breath through his nose, and turned his head.
“I want you to know it’s okay with me. I know it’s not who you are.”
“You’re a good person, Veronica,” he said softly.
“So are you. You just don’t think you are sometimes.”
She continued stroking his chest, and a warm tingling spread throughout his body. “Someone I’m not sold on,” she said, “is our resident scientist.”
“I think he proved whose side he’s on in your apartment.”
“I don’t have any reason not to trust Stefan, except that he works for Somax. But that’s a big one.”
“There’re things about Stefan you don’t know. It’s not my place, but he’s got his reasons, and they’re not selfish ones.”
“I just think you’re too trusting with him.”
“That’s not one of my many character flaws.”
“Do you trust me?”
He answered honestly. “Yes.”
She leaned over him and put her elbows next to his head. Her hair feathered his face, and he reached for her again.
V
iktor returned his ID to his wallet. “Interpol informed me this morning that the Bulgarian police issued a database request concerning the murder of three scientists in a town called Veliko Tarnovo. The same men who murdered these scientists are after my colleague. I went to the police station, and was told to return tomorrow.”
She remained silent, and Viktor continued, “I’m not asking you to divulge anything the police might have told you. I’m asking you, as an Egyptologist, to help me understand a few pieces of information I already possess.”
She bit her lip as she slipped the detective’s card through her fingers. “I don’t suppose it hurts to discuss.”
“Thank you,” Viktor said. “I’d first like to know why impact wounds from a large blunt instrument, and a piece of white linen found in the forest just outside the scene of the crime, caused an inquiry to the Egyptian police.”
“Did you read the report?”
“I did. The linen had been soaked in Lebanese resin. Traces of juniper oil, beeswax and natron were also found.”
She folded her hands on the table and spoke in subdued tones. “There must have been a clever criminologist in the Bulgarian lab. All of these materials were traditionally used in the preparation of the Egyptian mummy.”
Viktor stared at her. “A mummy.”
“It’s ridiculous, of course, as I told the detective.”
“And the blunt instrument?”
She spread her hands. “It could be anything. If you’re asking me what the significance might be within Egyptology…” She trailed off and gave an apologetic shrug, as if the answer embarrassed her.
“Yes?”
“The diameter of the impact wounds suggests an instrument the size of a club or a mace. The depth of the wound suggests the weightier head of the mace. The mace was a favored weapon in ancient Egypt during the Old Kingdom.”
“Favored by whom?”
“Bodyguards of the pharaohs, and of the temples. Mummies were also used as guardians of the temples, and were often depicted carrying maces.”
“
Mummies
were guardians of the temples?”
“The idea of a mummy brought to life to wreak vengeance didn’t originate in Hollywood. In certain temples, usually in rural areas, the priests used the myth of the resurrected mummy to keep worshippers in line. Early Arab visitors were convinced the Egyptian priests could bring the mummies back to life with magical incantations.”
Viktor continued staring at her. “I’m unsure if I’m amused or disturbed.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a small notebook. He flipped it open to the sketch of Al-Miri’s medallion.
She studied it. “I’ve never seen this particular symbol before. Except for the mummification, the figure is indicative of Nu, as I’m sure you’re aware.”
“And the mummification?”
“As mummification became more widespread in Egypt, it bled into all aspects of religion. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were representations of Nu incorporating elements of mummification. I just haven’t seen any.”
She took the notebook in her hands. “I think this is more than just a depiction of Nu, however. The mummy was the ultimate symbol of physical eternal life to the ancient Egyptians. The ankh represented the gift of life itself, to some the life of the soul, but the mummy was the body eternal and preserved, staring you in the face.” She traced a finger around the drawing. “The eternal water beneath the feet of Nu, the gold, the palm frond, the mummification… this is a powerful symbol of physical immortality. And there’s something else. Do you see the rectangular blue block beneath the figure?”
“The eternal water, as you said.”
“The symbol for water in the abstract is a separate hieroglyph. This hieroglyph is the symbol for lake. Dr. Gunther may not have thought that significant. There’s no real reason he would.” She sat back. “Where did you get this?”
“The man who hired me, a man named Zahur Al-Miri Haddara, was wearing the medallion. He’s also the man we suspect is behind the murders. He’s the CEO of a biotech called New Cellular Technologies. He—” Viktor cut off because Dr. Hilton’s face had paled.
She swallowed. “Do you remember when I said only one other person had approached me during my tenure at the Museum concerning Nu? It was this man. He was a young biologist, and he owned a company specializing in aging research. I forget the name of the company now, I think it was his family name, but I remember reading an article in the Cairo paper a few years back concerning New Cellular Technologies, and the article mentioned that this was the company’s new name.”
“What did the article concern?”
“An archaeological dig.” She paused, reflecting. “He was obsessed with Egyptian immortality myths. I tried to steer him to Osiris, but he wasn’t interested. Said that route was rubbish. He wanted to know about Nu and the myths of the eternal waters. He was actually the one who first led me to the link between the alchemists and the lost oasis. He’d found some old journals from the time of the visits to Egypt of one of the alchemists, Comte St. Germain I believe was the one, that chronicled his journey to the Western desert. He was convinced the elixir of life legends had some type of factual basis, and he intended to find out what it was.”
Viktor was bent over the table, his hawkish brow drawn to a point. “When did this visit with Al-Miri take place?”
“It was two or three visits, a decade ago. At the very beginning of my tenure. In the article I mentioned, I read that his company had hired private archaeologists to search for the lost oasis, in the general area where the rock paintings we discussed were found. Curious, but I never heard another word about it in the paper. To be honest, daft expeditions in the desert occur all the time.”
“Did he return to see you?”
“I never heard from him again. You wouldn’t think he’s involved with those awful murders? He was really quite polite, if a bit obsessive.”
Viktor removed his broad hands from the table. He folded his arms and gazed at the drawing of the medallion in the center of the table, a crude sketch that still somehow conveyed the mystery and majesty of ancient Egypt.
V
eronica had fallen asleep again. Grey paused to look at her lithe nakedness, her blond hair splayed across her back, before leaving the hotel and squinting into the brawny mid-morning Egyptian sun.
Grey’s exercise consisted of crowd and vendor dodging as much as it did running. It wasn’t just the people: after jumping and weaving over and around trash, puddles, cracked pavement, and open manholes, Grey felt like he was back in basic training.
He wore a hat and face scarf pulled low over his eyes to provide both anonymity and protection from the choking air. He’d broken his own rule to the group by leaving the hotel, but he had to push his worries to the back of a mind exhausted from exercise, and he couldn’t stand the treadmill. His disappointment in himself, his confused memories of Nya, the specter of violence and fear that overshadowed it all: he ran until each one of them retreated, kicking and screaming, to a quieter location.