Read My Father the God Page 16


  Fig. 2 Map of Egypt

  Aswan – Two Weeks Later

  Sloan gazed toward the eastern shore of the Nile from his private deck at the Elephantine Island Hotel in Aswan. He had taken his time on the trip southward, but he had felt it worthwhile to learn more about the country that he would make his home for the next year. Although he had flown to Luxor, he had progressed from there by ship, seeing all of the important digs along the way. He had not discerned the slightest hint that he was being followed, but his senses told him that it was inevitable – sooner or later his adversary would appear. Why else would he have disappeared from the face of the earth? After all the things James had perpetrated against him over the course of more than a quarter of a century, Sloan felt confident that there was one last trick up his sleeve.

  When or where James would undertake to confront him, he had no idea, but he was certain that, given James’ fundamental nature, Egypt was the best place for Sloan to await that confrontation. James was surely dangerous, perhaps even deadly. Having been cornered into oblivion, his next move, perhaps his penultimate one, would certainly be well planned and heinous, perhaps even beyond anything that Sloan could imagine. But he for one intended to be prepared for it, whenever and wherever it came.

  He decided to remain in Aswan for a few days and, while taking in the sites, plan more carefully for every eventuality. Accordingly, that afternoon he took a tour of the Shellal quarry, the site where many of the Egyptian obelisks had been quarried more than three thousand years ago.

  The following day he toured both the low dam and the high dam. The latter, now well along in construction, was quite impressive, being the largest dam in the world. When completed, it would hold back the waters of the Nile, thereby creating Lake Nasser, one of the largest man-made lakes on earth and, in the process, inundating countless Egyptian treasures from antiquity.

  The following day he planned to board a bus for Abu Simbel, a mind-numbing five hour journey through the desolate Egyptian desert.

  Abu Simbel – the Following Day

  Sloan stepped down from the bus, surprised that the heat was not too terribly unbearable. His memories from his summers there were of searing heat, day after day. But in January, it seemed that even here near the Tropic of Cancer, it was not too terribly unbearable. All too soon, it would become oppressive with the onset of summer. He wondered how long he would need to stay, how long it would take to complete his self-imposed mission.

  He made for the awaiting truck and, piling in with the other workers, he noted that nearly all of them were Egyptians. They drove perhaps a mile, coming to an enormous construction site. Not two hundred yards distant, the red-tinged dirt of the desert dropped away from view, thereby signaling the onset of the cliffs along the Nile.

  Everywhere he looked there was activity, several hundred workers toiling away in the mid-day sun, all of them tanned dark by excessive exposure in this cloudless place. He saw a sign up ahead and, although it was in Arabic, someone had scrawled at the bottom in English the single word ‘office’, with an arrow pointing to the right.

  He walked purposely in the direction indicated, and sure enough, there was a temporary building set up a few hundred feet beyond. An Englishman came out of the building at the moment he arrived and, spotting Sloan, he exclaimed, “I say, you must be Sloan Stewart.”

  “Correct,” Sloan replied, “How did you know?”

  The man responded, “Spitting image of your father, I’d say. Besides, we don’t get many visitors here, and you are the only one expected for quite some time,” and at this he added, “I’m John Bonner, head of engineering here at Abu Simbel,” and so saying, he thrust his hand forward.

  Taking the proffered hand within his own, Sloan responded, “Pleased to meet you, John. Please, call me Sloan. Might you be able to point me to Mr. Al Wadi?”

  “Sure, step inside with me. I’ll introduce you to him.”

  “Thanks,” Sloan responded, and within minutes he had been assigned a bunk within the tent city that had been built for the on-site workers.

  It was spartan by English standards, but Sloan decided that he would think of it from the standpoint of his summers in Egypt when he was a boy, or even better, from his time in the prisoner of war camp in Burma. From that viewpoint, it was quite palacial: there were latrines, showers, and even an enormous mess tent, all a veritable morass of activity for the better part of the day. Contemplating it all, he had to admit that he was looking forward to his adventure with great anticipation.

  John gave him a tour that very afternoon, including an elevator ride over the crest of the cliffs, down to the edge of the river. As they descended, John pointed out the level to which the lake would rise once the dam was completed.

  “So, where does the name Abu Simbel come from?” Sloan queried as they rode ever downwards.

  “The boy who showed the site to early explorers was supposedly named Abu Simbel. Apparently, the name stuck.”

  “That’s interesting,” Sloan mumbled, “So the boy showed it to Giovanni Belzoni first?”

  “No, it was actually discovered by Jean-Louis Burckhardt in 1813. He subsequently told Belzoni about it, and Belzoni came in search of treasure. By that point in time, the entire complex was so far inundated with sand from the desert that only the top portion was visible. So Belzoni had a hell of a time digging it out, which he finally completed in 1817.

  “Anyway, we’re coming to the bottom now, and you can see it there against the cliff wall. Of course, due to all the construction equipment it’s hard to make out the entire complex, but you’re lucky nonetheless. In a couple of months they’re going to start cutting the pieces and lifting them to the top of the cliffs. When they’ve completed that part, they’ll start reassembling the whole thing, like a jigsaw puzzle, on the site I showed you before we came down on the elevator.”

  “How far down have we come?” Sloan queried.

  “It’s about 65 meters from the crest of the cliff to the Nile,” John replied concisely.

  “So, exactly how long is this all going to take?”

  “Oh, we should be finished with the project by the middle of next year.”

  “Will that be soon enough to avoid it being inundated by the rising Nile?”

  “Oh, the high dam won’t be complete for another three years, so we’re in good shape,” John responded.

  “This is quite a project, John. You must be very proud.”

  “Yes, of course, but one mustn’t get too cheeky about these things. After all, Ramses had the complex built more than three thousand years ago, and the workmen had no modern tools whatsoever. Imagine trying to move this thing today with the tools they had back then. I’d say what we’re doing here pales by comparison to what the Egyptians accomplished so long ago.”

  “Just so,” Sloan responded, “Still, it’s going to be quite a treat to see the entire temple come together on the cliffs above. And one can assume quite a lot of tourists will come to see it.”

  “Right, I’d like to have a share of the entry fee,” John posited, snickering at his small joke.

  “Meantime, we fortunate few get to see it for free,” Sloan replied, tongue-in-cheek.

  “Oh, I doubt that, old chap,” John replied, “Before we’re finished here, I’m sure you shall have paid quite a steep price – sun stroke, heat stroke, dysentery, perhaps even malaria, and God knows what else. Trust me - you shall most assuredly pay the price. Belzoni himself died of dysentery in 1823.”

  “Sounds enticing,” Sloan said sarcastically, “Seriously, I’m prepared for whatever may come.”

  “Good, because you’re in for some hard days ahead, I’m afraid.”