CHAPTER III
Cairo
The jet descended smoothly over the desert on the approach to CairoInternational Airport. Rick leaned toward the window to watch for thefirst sign of a runway. In the distance he could see the valley of theNile River, a great green swath which cut through the tan desert wastes.
"Excited?" Scotty asked.
Rick had to grin. "Excited? Why should I be excited? A trip to Egypt isan everyday event for me. Stop asking silly questions and look at thescenery."
"I would," Scotty told him, "only somebody's head is in the way. I won'texactly say it's a fathead, but it's too thick to see through."
"Real subtle. I like the way you give delicate hints." Rick moved backso Scotty could see, and watched as the great plane dropped toward thedesert, then touched down and sped along modern runways to theadministration building.
Two Egyptians were waiting as Winston and the boys walked down thestairway, and the scientist at once hurried to greet them. Obviously thethree were old friends.
Winston introduced the two boys. The older of the two Egyptians was Dr.Abdel Kerama. He was a tall, gray-haired man of distinguishedappearance. Rick thought that in traditional desert costume he wouldlook like the head sheik of all the desert tribes. The younger Egyptianwas Dr. Hakim Farid, a youthful, clean-cut man with an attractive smile.
Rick knew from Winston's advance briefing that these were the twoleading radio astronomers of the United Arab Republic, and that both hadinternational reputations in the field.
The Egyptian scientists made the boys feel at home right away. Dr.Kerama took Scotty and Winston by the arms, and Dr. Farid fell in stepwith Rick as the group walked toward the administration building.
"We're glad you could come," Farid said in excellent English. "We'll tryto make your visit interesting."
Rick thanked him. "I don't know whether we'll be of much use, but we'rewilling to do anything we're told. All we ask is a little chance to seeyour country."
"You'll have every chance," Dr. Farid told him. "Before there is anywork for you, Parnell will have to do a pretty thorough analysis of datawe've collected. It's a problem that has us ... what's the Americanexpression? Buffaloed?"
"That's it," Rick agreed. "What kind of problem is it?"
"It's what you might call very strange behavior on the part of ahydrogen-line impulse we picked up while calibrating our receiver. Areyou familiar with radio astronomy?"
"Not very," Rick admitted. "I tried to read some of the currentliterature when I found we were coming, but most of it is over my head."
"Then I won't bore you with a technical discussion. Briefly, the noiseemitted by hydrogen gas in space is very important to us in our analysisof the nature and distribution of matter. This radio noise is, ofcourse, random. Usually when we are examining a hydrogen source we getpretty continuous and regular signals. If we could hear it, there wouldbe a sort of hissing noise. Do you follow me?"
"So far."
"Good. Our problem is that we are picking up impulses. You might evencall them signals. They are on the frequency of neutral hydrogen, butit's hard to believe they're natural in origin. We've about concludedthat somehow our amplifier system is modulating the incoming hydrogensignal from the antenna. The trouble is, we can't locate the cause."
"Is that why you called Dr. Winston?" Rick asked.
"Yes. He has a reputation for finding bugs in electronic circuits. If hecan find this one, we'll be tempted to reward him with a pyramid orsomething appropriate."
Rick saw the twinkle in Dr. Farid's eyes. "Better not make it apyramid," he said hastily. "His luggage is limited to sixty-six pounds.They might not let him on the plane with it."
"A happy thought," Dr. Farid said seriously. "You have saved us frompossible embarrassment. It would be useless to give him a pyramid whenhis weight limit is thirty kilos, as we call sixty-six pounds."
Rick chuckled. One reason he so enjoyed his association with scientistswas the dry sense of humor most of them seemed to share.
They reached the administration building and started through theformalities of customs and immigration. The Americans had filled outcustoms forms and currency declarations on the plane, and in only ashort time the formalities were over and their admission into the UnitedArab Republic was official. The customs inspectors hadn't even askedthem to open their luggage.
The trip from the airport took over an hour. It led through Heliopolis,City of the Sun, the first capital of a united Egypt. The land had beengoverned for over a thousand years from Heliopolis. But that, as Dr.Kerama explained, was over four thousand years ago.
Rick was awed. Coming from a new land where a hundred years seemed avery long time, the antiquity of Egypt stirred his imagination. Butthere was little that seemed ancient in modern Heliopolis. There wereattractive, modern apartment houses, new public buildings, and rows oftrees carefully trimmed into perfect green cylinders.
The entry into Cairo itself was through rows of tall wooden or brickstructures, along streets traveled by everything from the latestEuropean cars to plodding donkey carts. The people were dressed in avariety of costumes, from suits and dresses that would have beensuitable in New York, to traditional Arab dress with flowing robes andthe cloth headdress that is held in place by a band or roll of fabricaround the head, just above the eyes.
The car passed the railroad station and the great statue of Rameses theSecond, Pharaoh of Egypt. The Nile came into view, and Farid pointed outthe row of hotels on the other side. The Shepheard's and the Nile Hiltonflanked the older, Victorian bulk of the Semiramis, where they wouldstay. They sped across a bridge, entered a plaza full of honking hornsand speeding cars, then moved to the comparative quiet of a street alongthe Nile embankment to the hotel.
Uniformed attendants came running for their bags. The group entered thelobby, and Rick looked around with interest.
The Semiramis was big, with lofty ceilings and chandeliers. The wallswere decorated with scrolls and tapestries. The rugs had once been red.There was a kind of eighteenth-century grandeur about it, even though ithad turned a little shabby over the years.
The formalities of registration were completed, then the Americans wentto the cashier and exchanged dollars for Egyptian pounds and coins inunits called piastres. They carefully put away their receipts for theexchange, since currency control in the country was strict.
"Go ahead," Winston told the boys. "Farid and Kerama will come with me.I want to start talking over this interesting problem of theirs, and Iimagine you want to rest."
Rick did not feel in the least like resting, but made no comment. He andScotty got into a tiny, ornate elevator cage with walls of gilded-ironlattice. There wasn't room for the porters with their bags; they ran upthe stairs while the boys rode with the smiling elevator operator. Itwasn't a fast ride.
"Climbing rate, one hundred feet per minute," Scotty said. Rick grinned.
They were let off at the third floor, and weren't in the least surprisedto find the porters waiting for them. They followed the men into a roomthat made them stop short with amazement.
The entrance to the hotel and the lobby had been big, but the room wasenormous, spacious, and very tastefully furnished, European style.
"As big as Grand Central Station!" Scotty exclaimed.
Rick echoed, "We'll rattle around in here like a pair of pebbles in afifty-gallon tank."
The bath was larger than most American hotel rooms, with a twenty-footceiling, and the closet would easily have accommodated a king'swardrobe. Rick thought that maybe it had, in times past.
He tipped the porters and closed the door behind them, then motioned toScotty. "Go on down to the other end of the room and shout. I want tosee if I can hear you."
Scotty started to oblige, grinning, then turned and called, "Come lookat this view!" He had discovered that the French doors at the front ofthe room opened onto a tiny balcony that overlooked the Nile.
The great river was only the width of a narrow street a
way. Sailinggracefully along with brown sail set was a Nile boat. The bridge theyhad crossed was directly ahead of the boat, and Rick looked for thedrawspan through which it would pass. There was none!
"He'll crash right into the bridge!" Rick exclaimed. "Why doesn't hecorrect his course?"
"Rudder stuck, maybe," Scotty offered. "But why doesn't he drop the sailand try to lose headway?"
They watched helplessly as the boat, fully fifty feet in length, boredown on the bridge. There were many people in sight, and a steady lineof cars crossing the bridge, but no one paid the slightest attention.
Scotty grabbed Rick's arm. He started to laugh. "Look at that mast!"
Fascinated, Rick watched as the huge mast dipped slowly backward,triangular sail and all, until it lay nearly flat on the deck. The boatslipped under the bridge with room to spare. On the other side, the mastslowly went up to its normal rakish position again, the sail filled, andwind and current bore the boat steadily down the Nile.
"Not exactly the way we'd do it," Rick said with a grin, "but prettyeffective." It was a reminder that they were in a new land, wherecustoms were strange to them.
"You learn something new every day," Scotty agreed. "Let's unpack, thengo visit the city."
"Better wait and see what Winston has in mind for us," Rick cautioned.He began to stow his clothing in one of the big dressers. He lifted ashirt, and stared down at the Egyptian cat nestling among his T shirts."Tell you what, if Winston doesn't need us, let's deliver the cat. Wecan see some of the city coming and going."
When their clothes were stored, they washed away the grime of travel andRick called Winston's room.
Hakim Farid answered. "Don't think we've forgotten you," the young radioastronomer said. "But Parnell and Kerama wasted no time in getting downto business. I doubt that you could interrupt long enough to get asensible answer. Do you have any plans?"
"We have an errand at El Mouski," Rick replied. "Would it be all rightfor us to go?"
"No reason why not. You'll need a car. I would offer you mine, exceptthat you have no local license. You could take a taxi, but a licenseddragoman would be better. Suppose I suggest one with a car?"
Rick remembered that Bartouki had told them a dragoman was aguide-interpreter. "That would be very good of you," he replied.
"All right. I will send one I know, or a friend of his if he is notavailable. Wait in your room and he will come for you."
Rick thanked Farid and hung up. He reported the conversation to Scotty.
"First time I've ever had a guide in a city," Scotty said. "Makes mefeel important, like visiting royalty or something. Couldn't we just geta map instead?"
"We'd still need a car. Might as well get one with a built-in talkingmap. Besides, I like the idea. I want to be escorted like a visitingprime minister."
There was a paper laundry bag in the closet. Rick used it to wrap thecat against possible scratches. Scotty took the few moments to get somecards written, to which he signed both their names.
There was a polite knock on the door, and Rick opened it. He gaped atthe sight of what was apparently their dragoman. He was a magnificentfigure in blue pantaloons and short red jacket. He had an engaging blackface marred by three straight hairline scars that ran in a diagonalacross his cheeks.
"Have honor to present me," the figure announced formally. "Name ofHassan. To serve you."
"Come in, Hassan," Rick invited. "Are you the dragoman Dr. Farid sent?"
"Is same, _ya sidi_. To serve you."
Rick introduced himself and Scotty. He inspected the guide withinterest. Hassan was young, with a friendly white-toothed smile. Thescars identified him as Sudanese, but Rick didn't know enough about themarkings to tell what part of the Sudan he came from. A different partfrom Bartouki's servant, though, because the scars were at a differentangle, and Hassan had three on each cheek.
Rick's quick imagination could picture the Sudanese in a differentsetting, with scimitar in hand, guarding the palace of a legendarysultan. It was hard to imagine him in the prosaic role of a guide. Rickresolved to take a picture for Barby's benefit. A blackamoor warriorright out of the tales of Scheherazade! That was how she would see it.
The boys shook hands with the dragoman, and Rick saw that he respondedto their obvious friendliness. The costume was an odd one, though. Rickhadn't seen any like it on the street, and he wondered if Hassan wore itfor effect, since most of his customers probably were tourists. Later hefound that the guess was right.
"Where you like to go?" Hassan asked.
Scotty spoke up. "You know El Mouski?"
Hassan's face split in a wide grin. "Who does not?"
"That'll teach me to ask silly questions," Scotty said ruefully. "Likeasking a New Yorker if he ever heard of Central Park."
The boys walked downstairs with Hassan, since it was faster than takingthe elevator, and went to the alley behind the hotel where he had parkedhis car.
The car was a small foreign sedan of a make neither boy had ever heardof. Apparently Hassan also used it as a taxi, because the frontpassenger seat was taken up mostly by a taxi meter.
Rick showed Hassan the address in his notebook. The guide shook hishead. "Please, you read."
Rick looked at him with astonishment. A guide who couldn't read? Butapparently it was so. "It is the store of Ali Moustafa," he explained.
Hassan shrugged. "I do not know it. But it can be found. _Enshallah._"
Although the boys did not recognize it then, the word was a commonexpression meaning "If God wills it."
They would learn it, though, and with it other Arabic words, including_zanb_, _dassissa_, and _khatar_--or, in English, crime, intrigue, anddanger!