Wisely, the professor agreed. However he had some conditions of his own. “I think that is very reasonable, Mr., Purdue, as well as helpful,” he said. “But I have a counter-proposal, of sorts. After all, I too, am only assisting the Dragon Watchers in their pursuit to avert a terrible celestial catastrophe.”
“I understand. What do you suggest?” Purdue asked.
“The remaining diamonds, those not in the possession of opulent families throughout Europe and Asia, those will become the possession of the Egyptian Archaeological Society,” the professor insisted. “Those your brokers manage to intercept are yours. What say you?”
Sam frowned, tempted to whip out his notebook. “In which country will we find these other diamonds?”
The proud professor smiled at Sam, folding his arms happily. “Conveniently, Mr. Cleave, we believe that they are interred in a cemetery not far from where you and your colleagues will be conducting that awful official business of yours.”
“In Ethiopia?” Adjo spoke for the first time since he’d started stuffing his mouth with the delectable foods in front of him. “They are not in Aksum, sir. I can assure you. I spent years working on dig sites with various international archaeological teams in that region.”
“I know, Mr. Kira,” Prof. Imru said firmly.
“According to our ancient texts,” Penekal revealed with great ceremony, “the diamonds we seek are reputedly buried within the monastery on the holy island in Lake Tana.”
“In Ethiopia?” Sam asked. At the solemn frowns he received, he shrugged and explained, “I’m Scottish. I don’t know anything about Africa that was not in a Tarzan movie.”
Nina smiled. “Lake Tana is said to have an island where the Virgin Mary allegedly took rest on her way from Egypt, Sam,” she elucidated. “It was also reputed to have been the home of the real Ark of the Covenant before it was brought to Aksum in AD 400.”
“I am impressed by your historian’s knowledge, Mr. Purdue. Maybe Dr. Gould could work for the People’s Movement for the Protection of Heritage Sites sometime?” Prof. Imru grinned. “Or even for the Egyptian Archaeological Society or the Cairo University, perhaps?”
“Perhaps as temporary advisor, Professor,” she gracefully declined. “But my love is for modern history, specifically German history of the Second World War.”
“Ah,” he replied. “Pity. It is such a gloom-riddled, cruel era to give one’s heart to. Dare I wonder what it betrays about your heart?”
Nina raised an eyebrow, delivering a quick reply. “It betrays only that I am wary of historical events repeating themselves where I am concerned.”
The tall, dark-skinned professor looked down on the contrasting marble-skinned, small doctor, his eyes filled with true admiration and geniality. Purdue was afraid of another cultural ball-busting from his beloved Nina, so he interrupted the minor bonding experience between her and Prof. Imru.
“Right then,” Purdue clapped his hands together and smiled. “Let us get started first thing in the morning.”
“Aye,” Nina agreed. “I am dog tired and the flight lag has not done me any favors either.”
“Yes, the climate change is quite aggressive from your native Scotland,” the host agreed.
They took leave of the meeting in high spirits, leaving the old astronomers relieved for the help and Prof. Imru elated for the ensuing treasure hunt. Adjo stepped aside for Nina to lead the way to the taxi, while Sam caught up to Purdue.
“Did you get all that on tape?” Purdue asked.
“Aye, the whole deal,” Sam confirmed. “So, now we are stealing from Ethiopia again?” he asked innocently, finding it all ironic and humorous.
“Yes,” Purdue smiled deviously, his answer confusing all in his company. “But this time, we are stealing for the Black Sun.”
25
Alchemy of the Gods
Abdul Raya came walking down the busy street in Berchem, a quaint neighborhood in the Flemish region of Antwerp. He was on his way to the home business of an antique dealer named Hannes Wetter, a Flemish connoisseur obsessed with precious stones. His collection included various ancient pieces from Egypt, Mesopotamia, India, and Russia, all adorned in rubies, emeralds, diamonds, and sapphires. But Raya cared little for the age or rarity of Wetter’s collection. There was but one piece he was interested in, and of that piece, he needed only a fifth of it.
Wetter had spoken to Raya on the phone three days prior, before the floods began in earnest. They had arranged an eccentric amount for the impish effigy of Indian origin that Wetter had in his collection. Although he insisted that this particular piece was not for sale, he could not refuse Raya’s bizarre offer. The customer had discovered Wetter on eBay, but from what Wetter had learned from speaking with Raya, the Egyptian knew much of ancient art and nothing about technology.
Everywhere in Antwerp and Belgium, the flood alarm was rife after the past few days. All along the coastline, from Le Havre and Dieppe in France across to Terneuzen in the Netherlands, homes were being evacuated as the sea level continued to rise without cause. With Antwerp sandwiched in the middle, the already flooded landmass of the Drowned Land of Saeftinghe had been lost under the tides already. The rest of the towns, like Goes, Vlissingen, and Middelburg, were also beneath the waves, all the way north to The Hague.
Raya smiled, knowing he was the master of the mystery weather channels and authorities could not unravel. Throughout the streets, he continued to pass people in frantic conversation, speculating and terrified of the still rising ocean soon to flood Alkmaar and the rest of Northern Holland within the next day.
“God is punishing us,” he heard a middle-aged woman say to her husband outside a coffee shop. “This is why this is happening. This is a wrath of God.”
Her husband looked as shaken as she, but he tried to find some solace in reasoning. “Matilda, calm down. Maybe it’s just a natural phenomenon the weather people could not pick up on those radar things,” he implored.
“But why?” she persisted. “Natural phenomena are caused by the will of God, Martin. This is divine punishment.”
“Or divine evil,” her husband muttered, to his religious wife’s horror.
“How can you say that?” she shrieked, just as Raya walked by. “What reason would there be for God to send evil upon us?”
“Oh, I cannot resist that one,” Abdul Raya exclaimed aloud. He turned in his steps to join the woman and her husband. They were dumbstruck by his peculiar look, his claw-like hands, his sharp, bony face and sunken eyes. “Madam, the beauty of evil is in that, unlike good things, evil needs no reason to sow destruction. It is in the very essence of evil to willfully destroy for the sheer thrill of it. Good day.” As he sauntered off, the man and his wife stood frozen in shock, mostly at his revelation, but definitely for his appearance as well.
On television channels everywhere warnings were sent out, while reports of flood deaths joined company with other reports from the Mediterranean basin, Australia, Southern Africa and South-America of threatening floods. Japan lost half of its population while a myriad of islands were sinking under the sea.
“Oh, wait, my darlings,” Raya sang merrily as he approached the home of Hannes Wetter, “it is a curse of water. Water is found everywhere, not just in the sea. Wait, the fallen Kunospaston is the water demon. You could drown in your own bath tubs!”
This had been the latest star to fall, as observed by Ofar after Penekal heard of the rising sea levels in Egypt. But Raya knew what was to come, since he was the architect of this chaos. The emaciated Magician sought only to remind mankind of their insignificance in the eyes of the Universe, the uncountable eyes that glinted down upon them every night. And for good measure, he enjoyed the power of destruction he controlled and the juvenile thrill of being the only one who knew why.