“I’d guess about thirty-five centuries, give or take,” Imogen said.
“That’s a long time,” Gideon continued. “Stands to reason they’d take grave exception—so to speak—to our breaking in.”
“So what’s the plan?” Garza asked.
“All the hunting parties go out on the night of the full moon,” Gideon said. “Seems to be a tradition. That’s the night after next. We’ll simply form a band of our own—like we did today—and head in that direction. The moonlight will help us get there unobserved.”
Garza nodded. “Okay.”
“I have a question,” said Imogen. “Once we’re inside the tomb—what’s the goal? I mean, are you planning to document it?”
There was a silence. Then Gideon shook his head. “No, no. We’re going to rob it.”
Imogen stared at him. “You’re going to loot it?”
“Damn right,” said Garza. “Didn’t Gideon tell you that part? We’re here to make our fortunes. Are you really so naive? We’ve worked it out—how we’re going to smuggle it out of Egypt, get it into the States, everything.”
“I think that’s horrible. You’re nothing but thieves.”
“Exactly. We’re thieves, criminals—and proud of it. Listen: the company we used to work for was unique. We’ve toppled dictators, stolen nuclear reactors so they won’t get weaponized. We’ve spent our whole lives working for others. We saved the world. Now this is for us. Besides, what do you care? You just said you weren’t interested in any treasure for yourself.”
“I’m not—in gold and jewels, at least. But I’m a geoarchaeologist. Looting and desecrating a tomb goes against everything I believe in.”
Garza looked at Gideon with an expression that said: You got us into this. Now get us out.
“If you’re not interested in treasure,” Gideon asked Imogen quickly, “what exactly are you interested in?”
“History. Knowledge.”
“Such as?”
“There might—there probably are—documents inside. Papyri, stone tablets, scrolls. That’s the real treasure. Who knows what kind of light they might shed on ancient Egyptian history?”
“I don’t give a damn about old scraps of paper,” Garza said. “I want something I can convert into hard cash—quickly. While you document it, we plunder it. And then we ride hell-for-leather back out through the mist oasis.”
“And supposing you succeed. Just how are you planning to smuggle a tomb’s worth of loot out of Egypt? It’s not only unethical, it’s crazy. I won’t let you try.”
“Like I said, we’ve worked it out,” said Garza. “What are you going to do? Raise the alarm? Get us all killed?”
“Wait a moment,” Gideon said, interrupting the rising argument. “Imogen’s right—we don’t want to do anything that would wreck the historical record. But Manuel’s right, too. We’re the ones who made this discovery. We deserve to get something out of it.” He looked at Imogen. “Besides, if we don’t take at least a few pieces, who’s going to believe us? It’s not like we have any cameras.”
A brief silence settled over the three as the fire flickered and danced.
“What’s your proposal, then?” Imogen asked at last.
“We’ve got crossbows, waterskins, and food,” Gideon replied. “But most important, we’ve got freedom of movement. We steal a couple of camels, load them down with food and water, and take off. We enter the tomb, Manuel and I will take what we want, and you’ll have time to record the find, document everything you can. And here’s the best part: we don’t need to ride back through the camp and the mist oasis.”
Garza frowned. “But that’s the only way out.”
“So we were told. But, Imogen, do you remember that cut we saw in the far side of the demon canyon? It led westward, to the other side of the mountains and open desert. That’s our back door—and I’ll bet it’s kept secret even from most of the tribe. From there it’s less than a hundred miles to the Nile River. We could avoid running a murderous gauntlet through camp…and make the journey in four, five days.”
“You saw this back door yourself?” Garza asked.
“Hell, yes. And—”
“Hold on a minute, you lot,” Imogen interrupted. “In all this excitement, aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourselves?”
“What do you mean?” asked Garza.
“You’re planning to just waltz in, steal the treasure, and ride off, like Bob’s your uncle?”
Garza nodded. “That was the general idea, yes.”
“Well then, allow me to make a couple of observations. First, that door isn’t just going to open itself. Remember, it was made to resist penetration. You don’t know how long it will take to get inside—especially given the tools at hand.”
Gideon and Garza exchanged looks.
“Second, we have no idea what’s inside. You’re hoping for a tomb full of treasure. I’m hoping for a tomb full of unknown history. We could all be right—or wrong. Maybe there’s nothing in there. Maybe it’s full of statuary too heavy to lift. Until you know, how can you figure out the best method to cart it all away?”
There was a silence. Then Garza murmured, “Damn.”
“This is what we’ll do,” Gideon said abruptly. “We’ll go out on the full moon, as planned. But it will only be a recon expedition. We’ll break in, or at least try to, and ascertain what’s inside. That way, we’ll know what to plan for.”
“It might take more than one night to break in,” Imogen said.
“Fine,” Garza said. “Then we’ll go out ‘hunting’ two nights in a row. And we’ll plan the actual loot-’n’-leave for the next full moon.”
“The next full moon?” Gideon echoed. “That’s a month away.”
“Like Imogen said, there are unknown variables to consider here. We need to plan this carefully. If we find something unexpected, it might take us additional weeks to prepare, and…”
As he was speaking, Garza caught the expression on Gideon’s face. Recalling immediately that Gideon was on a clock—the ultimate clock—he added hastily, “On the other hand, delaying too long has its own set of unexpected variables. So let’s plan to leave a week after the initial recon. That gives us seven days to get inside, take an inventory, and figure out how best to effect our escape.”
Imogen considered for a moment. “Well, I still think you’re both rotten to loot the tomb.”
“But you’re going to live with it,” Garza said.
“What choice do I have? But assuming we find anything, you’ll take only small stuff—gold, jewelry, and the like. No unique works of art. And especially no written documents or historically important artifacts. Agreed?”
Gideon nodded. Then—after a hesitation—Garza did as well.
35
GIDEON HAD NEVER seen a full moon as bright as the one that rose two nights later above the peak of Gebel Umm, the Mother of Mountains, casting a brilliant light into the valley. Outside, hunting parties were gathering in small groups and getting ready to venture into the rugged landscape. On this particular night, hunters stalked the curious nocturnal boar of southern Egypt, a reclusive animal that came out in small groups to root about for grubs and insects.
Gideon had an entirely different kind of hunt on his mind.
Although it was getting close to midnight, the fires were still lit, and the hunters gathered around them holding their spears, their long shadows flickering and wavering over the ground. There was a low murmur of conversation and the gentle clang and rasp of weapons being sharpened and assembled.