Chapter 18.
The temple walls were falling into shadow. The huge stone visage of Khufu, the peoples’ beloved Cheops, peered through darkening orbs across the portico, past the massive temple doors, into the face of the ‘unseen god,’ Amon-Ra.
The doors were open, swung fully back, exposing the dark interior. Conspicuously, on this night no guards stood in attendance.
The pharaoh stood alone at the edge of the portico, gazing out across the plaza. Not so many hours before, it had been filled with joyous citizens, gathered to celebrate the completion of the Great Pyramid. But now it was quiet. Not a soul was present. The Pharaoh’s Elite Guard had cleared the entire area around the temple and now stood watch, ensuring that no one came close.
Khufu’s thoughts went back to that day long ago (How long had it been, he wondered), when the high priest had stood on this very spot, and had wooed the throng; the place where it had all begun.
To his rear, from inside the darkened enclosure, a faint blue glow appeared, then began slowly pulsating as it moved forward out of the darkness.
Amon, clothed in his priestly white robes, walked slowly through the doorway. His head was bowed and his hands were clasped in front of him, as was usually the case when he performed before the public. This time though, there were no theatrics involved. He too was remembering. The day when the grand endeavour had begun.
To his left, the transceiver floated, keeping pace with his strides. The high priest stopped at the portico’s edge, standing close to his Pharaoh. Together they stood quietly, each absorbed in thought. The transceiver’s blue glow slowly faded to a metallic gray as it settled to the floor beside Amon.
“We have come a long way, you and I.” The Pharaoh mused quietly without turning his head.
“So we have, my friend. Do you think it was worth it?”
“Oh, my . . . yes! Most certainly. Together we have united the wayward tribes. Together we have exposed and defeated treachery and deceit. Together we have brought peace to a nation and a semblance of true freedom to it’s people. We have accomplished much, but there is yet much more to do.”
Amon looked at the man’s profile, outlined against a fading orange/red almost cloudless twilight sky. The long straight nose, except for the slightest bump rear the brow line, the strong protruding chin, dominant even without the ceremonial beard which usually covered it.
Here is a truly great man, thought Amon. Not so long ago he was haughty, aloof, even arrogant, at least outwardly. Inwardly he was uncertain, reluctant, insecure; surrounded by people who were envious of his power and position. People who plotted and schemed against him, all the while professing their loyalty.
But now Khufu had matured. He had faced adversity square on . . . and had prevailed. He had chosen virtue over vice, truth over deception. He had chosen the right, and he and his people had prospered because of that choice.
Amon reflected on why he had come here in the first place. The pretence of building a structurally sound pyramid had been his “in.” But his real purpose had always been to help construct a firm foundation upon which a rigid autocracy could be transformed into a fledgling democracy.In this he had been successful. Though he was still a monarch, Khufu understood the importance of the exercise of free will among his people. The transformation within the man had only taken a few years. The transformation of the government would take generations.
Amon was confident that Cheops (the affectionate name given to their Pharaoh by an adoring and appreciative people) had the strength of character, as witnessed by his example, to plant seeds of virtue for coming generations.
“So, Amon. Now we part.” Turning toward the high priest, Khufu was smiling.
“I’m still surprised that you insist upon leaving. Don’t you desire to stay a while, if only to witness the fruits of your labors?”
“There is a part of me that wishes to do so.” Memories from his past flashed through Amon’s mind.
“How I would enjoy watching your children grow to maturity. How I would take pleasure watching you become a doting grandfather.”
He took a step down and sat, resting his forearms on his knees. Khufu remained standing, looking up into the darkening heavens. Amon sighed and continued.
“But my work here is done. Were I to stay longer, I would be tempted to interfere, to exert influence. That I should not do. You. You, my friend, my brother. You are the one who must carry this burden. And you will do well. You are a man of strength and integrity. A man of courage and conviction. Leadership is always a burden, and few there are who can carry that burden well. You are one of the few.”
The Pharaoh walked slowly down a few steps until the two men were at eye level. A light cool breeze washed across him as he descended, sending a chill down his back. He folded his arms across his chest as he spoke.
“How will you know what becomes of us? Aren’t you curious to know what the future holds?”
“Oh, my. Yes! One is always concerned about the ones he loves.”
“Then you should stay, at least for a while.”
“No, it’s time for me to move on. But I will not loose track of your doings. I will be able to see the results of our time together.”
Amon looked over at the dormant transceiver, and then continued.
“Even as we speak, inside your tomb there are four devices similar to this one, only smaller. Two of them are boring slender shafts from the king’s chamber through to the outside veneer. . . .”
“Why? What is the purpose? You know my tomb must be secure from those who would desecrate it.”
“Yes. I know. Be not concerned. Neither of them, nor the two in the queen’s chamber can be accessed from the outside.”
“My queen’s chamber also? Why would you do such a thing?”
“My Pharaoh, the structure you have constructed is the most stable of any man-made object in the world. It’s foundation is the bedrock of the planet. Here in this place the ground almost never moves, as it sometimes does in other places. This monument to King Khufu will remain standing long after most other monuments have collapsed and turned to dust.
“Once the shafts are completed, the devices will remain hidden within. The shafts have been located so as to align with certain constellations in the heavens, specifically on the first days of summer solstice. The two in the queen’s chamber align with Ursa Minora, and Sirius. The two in your chamber align with Osiris, the god of the netherworld, and with Thuban the Immortal.”
“But why? I don’t understand!”
“Located in these four constellations are devices called LINKS. Among other things, their purpose is to monitor this world. From time to time the devices which bored the shafts will send invisible messages to these LINKS, letting them, and me in turn, know how this world is fairing.”
The Pharaoh was beyond comprehending. He sat down next to the high priest and placed a hand on Amon’s shoulder.
“High Priest! You speak of things beyond my ken! First the ‘transceivers,’ then the borers! Now you speak of things far away among the stars which watch over this world! You tell me you are but a man. But the things you do and the things you say persuade me that you must indeed be a god!”
“No, my friend. I am as I have said, just a man. If I were to tell you all that I know, it would only serve to bewilder you, and defeat the purpose for which I came here in the beginning.
“Better that you and I should make a pact between just us two, that the things you learned during my time with you, and the devices you learned about here tonight remain a confidence between only us.”
“I will swear such a pact to you Amon, my brother. Your love and your trust I will never betray. But what will I say of the borers? How will I explain the transceivers?”
“Upon my departure this device,” Amon placed a hand on the transceiver, “and others like it will mask themselves so that no man can see them. The borers will also hide themselves. You needn’t be concerned. . . .”
; “But the shafts! They cannot be hidden!”
“Together you and I created a myth, about an unseen god who, for convenience, we gave my name. The people accepted this myth and will continue to do so. Let us then create another myth.
“Let it be told that the god Amon-Ra created portals in your tomb so that your Ka, your spirit, could escape your body upon your death, and once again mingle with the gods as it did before your birth.”
“Yes” Khufu nodded. “That will explain the shafts; and it will instill within the people hope for another life after this one. And thanks to you and your teachings, I will set an example for my people of how a just man should conduct himself.”
Amon stood just as the transceiver began to hum quietly, once again glowing a soft blue. Slowly it rose a few feet off the floor and hovered in place.
High up in the northern sky a faint whisper became audible. As the sound came closer the darkening sky seemed to shimmer. The first stars of the night blinked off and then back on as the shimmering apparition passed.
The whisper soon gave way to a low-pitched hum. For only a split second as the last rays of the setting sun caught it, the apparition became a bright yellow orb, the same color as the one carved into the temple stone above the god Amon Ra. Then, as quickly as it had materialized, it was gone. The apparition settled at the base of the stairs, where it solidified into a metallic sphere, hovering a dozen feet above the surface.
“The time has come, my brother,” said Amon, arms outstretched toward the Pharaoh.
Khufu ascended the last few steps and moved into Amon’s embrace. For long moments the two friends held each other, not speaking. Tears came to each man’s eyes as they backed away, arms outstretched, hands on each other’s shoulders. There were no words uttered between them. None would be adequate. None were necessary.
Amon was the first to move. Without speaking, he backed away just two steps. The two friends stood unmoving for just a few seconds, their eyes locked on one another. Then in unison, they both bowed deeply.
Amon turned slowly and descended the steps. As he did so a disc descended from the humming sphere and hovered inches above the ground.
Amon stepped onto the disc, then turned to face the Pharaoh.
Khufu stepped once again to the edge of the portico. Amon saw him bow again, this time lower than before.
When the Pharaoh at last stood upright, the disc where Amon had been standing was gone.
The sphere once again began to shimmer, to loose definition as it slowly rose into the air.
Khufu watched it’s ascent until it was impossible to discern the shimmering from the darkened sky.
Remembering, he turned to look for the transceiver. It too had disappeared.
For what seemed like a long time, he stood there, unmoving, staring blankly at the floor. The tightness in his throat began to subside. Finally the tears stopped.
Slowly the Pharaoh turned to face the huge courtyard, barely making out the distant entrance flanked by two stone lions.
Coming to his full height the Pharaoh wiped the last of the tears from his face, turned, and walked slowly back toward the darkened temple entrance, past the two majestic stone statues.
Epilogue
“But son! I tell you I saw it! Right there in the courtyard! Right in front of the temple! It was REAL! It IS real!”
“Now father. You know no one was allowed near the temple tonight. Pharaoh’s guards made everyone leave after the ceremony.”
“But son. . . .”
“I know how much you love that place. How you made it your life’s work to assist in it’s construction. I know how you love our dear Cheops and his sun god. Come, father. You are tired. Sit here next to the fire for a while. The day’s excitement has worn you out. I’ll fix you a warm drink to help you relax.”
The son helped his father cross the room, relieving him of his worn old staff, holding him close so he wouldn’t fall. Gently he lowered the old man into a calfskin tripod chair he had made just for him. Then he turned away toward the fire.
His father was incredibly old. Older than every person in the village. The son poured a small measure of mead into a bowl, then set it close to the fire so it would warm.
He remembered how he had sat at his fathers knee as a youth. How he had listen for seeming hours as his father told of his experiences in the quarry, how he had carried the huge stones up the steep slopes. How he had fashioned them into beautiful works of art. And how he had been filled with pride the day of the temple’s dedication.
“I tell you it is true! I hid myself near the entrance to the plaza. I curled up under one of the stone lions so no one could see me. I carved those statues, you know. I hid under the belly. I knew there was room . . . because I made it with my own hands!”
“But father, how could you curl up so? It is all you can do to walk.”
“Do not mock me, boy! I tell you I saw it! The sun god appeared to me! I saw him standing next to the Pharaoh. I saw them embrace. I saw my Cheops BOW to him! I saw him ascend into the golden orb. I saw it rise into the air. I saw it disappear . . . become unseen!”
The old man’s voice quieted as he continued.
“I saw him, I tell you. I saw AMON-RA, the unseen god.”
“Yes, my father,” the son said as he stirred the sweet-smelling liquid. “Here. Drink this. It will help you. . . .”
The son turned to hand the bowl to his father. The old man’s chin was resting on his sunken chest. His eyes were closed.
AWAKENING