Familiar Mirage
He swallowed. Beth was perceptive. He’d given himself away by the way he touched the statue. For a second he thought of going to her, but then he swam over to see what had caught the interest of the other scientists.
The hieroglyphics on the wall were beautifully wrought, and Omar felt a stab of worry. They could easily be directions to the City of Con. He watched as John Gilmore began the process of filming the entire wall. John moved slowly over the symbols, giving the camera plenty of time to record. Carefully he began to work his way around the temple.
The other scientists fanned out, each one working on a statue or some aspect of the temple. Omar knew they had to work fast. They had only so much oxygen left in their tanks. Against all odds, Beth had come to Herakleion and discovered the secret that had been buried in the watery grave for more than two thousand years.
Omar knew that he was going to have to figure out a way to re-bury that secret, if he intended to keep his lost city safe from the prying eyes of the world.
OKAY MISS EXPLORER has been down there long enough. Omar has been back for another light, but I haven’t seen hide nor hair of the lady scientist. I’m beginning to get a little nervous.
Now my sassy, red-haired friend, Mauve, is squealing with delight. She’s got a death grip on one of those machines, and she’s jumping up and down with excitement. The skipper is looking at her like she’s crazy.
I think it’s safe to assume that Beth has hit pay dirt. She must have found the temple she was looking for. I’m delighted for her. Now maybe we can get off this creaking, lurching boat and get back to dry land.
Someone is transmitting images from the bottom to the equipment Mauve is operating. Now I can just slip up here and see what all the excitement is about. At first glance it looks like that old Lloyd Bridges show, Seahunt. Lots of watery images and… What’s that white thing? Looks like a woman.
A woman with an eye smack in the middle of her forehead.
Con.
So Beth has found her. This is exciting. Now here comes a bunch of images of what looks like drawings intended to say something. I’m no Egyptologist, but I’d call those things hieroglyphics. Someone is going to have a lot of fun trying to figure out what they say.
Hmm, there’s the image of Con with a white crown holding a handful of some wheatlike grain. And it would seem it’s Con again, but this time her crown is red. And she’s riding a bull. I don’t have a clue what it means, but I like a woman who can ride bulls.
It must have taken whoever carved these things in stone half a lifetime to do it. They’re very complex. I just wonder if anyone can really decipher what they mean.
I remember what Beth said earlier about doubt. She’s right. Doubt is the thing that can kill genius. Beth will eventually decipher the hieroglyphics, and when she does, we’re on our way into the desert.
We have two days for her to work on this. Now we’ll see exactly how good John Gilmore is at his work.
Look, the camera is on Omar. He’s staring at the hieroglyphics as if he could burn them into his memory—or else burn them off the stone wall. There’s something about our desert guide that bears watching. Close watching. And I’m just the cat for the job.
Chapter Five
Beth could barely force herself to sit still as the boat sped back to Alexandria. She’d planned on at least three days of diving. It was almost unimaginable that she’d found the temple on the first day of the underwater excursion. This put her two days ahead on the expedition. It was almost as if Con were guiding her.
She smiled at that thought. She’d had so much doubt about this adventure. All her professional life she’d been content to settle in to work the sites that others had found. Her work was important, but it was always the work of the follower, the detail work that made for footnotes in history. The lost City of Con was a major discovery. She would make her mark as a leader, as a woman with a vision of the past. More than that, though, she would change the way history viewed women.
Sure, Cleopatra had been viewed as a powerful ruler, but it was her romantic interludes for which she was famous. On the other hand, Con and her progeny had been the guiding force behind the Ptolemy rule. She had served as the eye to the future for the leaders of Egypt, as well as for many of the rest of the world.
What if there were actual records of Con’s predictions? Or the predictions of her female ancestors and descendants? What if there was some description of how these women were able to predict the future?
Beth felt chill bumps shift over her body at the very thought. Modern science was just beginning to accept the power of the mind. What if there was written documentation of that power and how it might be accessed?
The possibility of what that could mean to the world made Beth short of breath. She stood up and began to pace the deck of the boat.
“How long do you think it will take you to decipher the hieroglyphics?” Omar asked her.
She’d failed to see him approach, and his question caught her off guard. She turned to him and was aware of the sun’s light rippling through his dark hair, the glint of his tanned chest. Unlike the other men, whose pale skins had begun to redden, he was a creature of the sun.
“I don’t know. Just looking at them, it seems to be a combination of symbolic pictures and symbols that also represent sound. It looks pretty complex.”
“I wonder why they chose to use symbols,” Omar said. “They could have written it.”
She nodded. “Yes, the Egyptians were using a written alphabet at the time.”
“Perhaps the hieroglyphics were used deliberately.”
“To prevent outsiders from finding the city?” Beth asked. This seemed to be a theme with Omar.
“‘Outsiders’ is a harsh term. I do know that the followers of Con were a very secretive bunch.” He smiled to take the sting out of his words. “I think that for them, everyone who wasn’t absolutely bound to the group was considered an outsider.”
“They lived a long time ago. Perhaps they’ll look kindly on another woman who simply wants to understand them.”
He stared deeply into her eyes. “Is that really what you want, Beth?”
It was the first time he’d used her name, and she knew that his question was loaded with meaning. “It’s my job, Omar. It’s what I do because I love doing it. I think by learning about the past, we can prevent mistakes now. We can learn from those who came before us.”
“And is all this learning for yourself or for the glory that will come with it?”
She hesitated. “I would be lying if I didn’t say both. I want to be recognized and acknowledged as a top professional in my field, but I could have gone in search of any number of other sites of archaeological importance.”
“So what is it about the City of Con that drew you to it?”
“It’s not the city. It’s Con.” Beth wondered if a man could ever understand her motives. She suddenly decided to try to make Omar see. “I dream about her,” she said softly. “I see her, and I want to know what role she played in history. I want her to have the credit she deserves.”
“Perhaps she didn’t want credit.”
Beth smiled. “I can’t know for certain, but neither can you.”
Omar leaned closer, sending a shudder of pleasure through Beth as his whisper lightly touched her ear. “What if I told you that I, too, dream of Con? And in my dreams, she tells me that the past is best left shrouded in mystery.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
Вы ознакомились с фрагментом книги.
Для бесплатного чтения открыта только часть текста.
Приобретайте полный текст книги у нашего партнера:
Полная версия книги