Song of Isis Read online

  This story copyright 1998 by Diane L. Kirkle. Published by Hard Shell Word Factory.

  8946 Loberg Rd.

  Amherst Junction, WI 54407

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  Electronic book created by Seattle Book Company.

  eBook ISBN: 0-7599-2990-4

  Cover art © 1998 Dirk A. Wolf

  All rights reserved.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. These characters are not even distantly inspired by any individual(s) known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  * * *

  To the ancient kings and queens who shared their secrets; to the universe in which time is a continuum that ebbs and flows around us; to Sandi and Chery who tenderly, yet firmly guided my hand; and most especially to my editor, Chris. This book belongs to you!

  * * *

  Prologue

  Northwestern University - present day

  ONLY A LIGHTED panel illuminated the clustered, shrouded figures. Their voices, like the beating of wings, rose in an increasing crescendo. The tallest among them, silver-haired and imposing, placed a large film against the light and traced his finger along the glowing image. Cries of surprise erupted, then fell silent. The onlookers restrained excitement evidenced only by the flapping of their white coats.

  "Where's Stone?" The obvious leader of the scientific gathering spoke with a quiet tone of authority that commanded immediate respect and attention. "She's the expert on orthopedics."

  A robust radiologist nodded. "Stone's the one all right. She'll know what to make of this."

  "Doesn't her father work for the Egyptian Antiquities Department?" someone asked.

  "Yeah," another physician chimed in. "In fact, this is his find. Look here, Jim, the breaks are patterned. Odd isn't it?"

  Silence fell in the room, each expert toying with his own theory. Quick footfalls tapped against the tiled hallway and grew louder. Anticipation and curiosity weighted the lab and the huddled team drew back exposing the x-ray mounted on the panel. The door opened.

  "Dr. Stone." The tall man smiled. "Alex, come in." The team turned as one in her direction and shaded their eyes against the hall light.

  Alexandria Stone's entrance parted the air as if it had substance. Small and dark, her carriage and demeanor made up for her delicate size to give the illusion of height and stature. Exactly as she wanted it.

  The door thunked shut behind her. She flipped the switch on her beeper, crossed her arms over her chest, and eyed the eager scientists crowding the room.

  "So, Doc, gentlemen, what was so important you had to interrupt my class?"

  Dr. James Harrold nodded at the x-ray. "Something I thought you'd want to see."

  Alex strode over to the lit panel and studied it closely.

  "Wow! How old is this?" She leaned closer. "It sure looks like you've found something here."

  James shook his head. "Not me, Alex. It's your father who's found something. And I was hoping you could shed some light on these fractures."

  "What period is this from?" Reluctantly, she pulled her gaze from the film and met his.

  "It's believed to be from the tenth or eleventh Dynasties. No one knows, yet. But it's at least four-thousand years old. These are the x-rays your father sent. He's still chasing legends, you know." Her father's old friend and her long-time mentor grinned. "And this is definitely what legends are made of. Legendary archeologists, anyway. It looks like he's discovered an unknown sarcophagus. This could well be the find of the century."

  "That's wonderful! It'll make his career." Pleasure in her father's triumph paled beside her fascination with the x-ray and she turned back to the translucent picture. "I'm joining him next week, on his dig in the Faiyum Valley. I can't wait."

  "He's not in Faiyum."

  "Oh?"

  Jim shook his head. "No. These films are from his find near Abydos."

  She snapped her head around. "What? The Valley of the Kings? Are you sure? There are no tenth Dynasty burials there."

  "Who cares?" an impatient observer snapped. "What's your verdict on the x-rays?"

  Jim pointed to the film. "From the pattern, I'd surmise his chest was crushed by a great deal of weight. Probably the cause of death."

  Alex stared at the film until abrupt realization widened her eyes. She swivelled and crossed quickly to the window, throwing open the drapes. Sunlight blinded her momentarily and slashed across the room. The scientists blinked in surprise, throwing up their forearms to shield their eyes against the sudden glare. Ezekiel Stone had been chasing legends, no, one specific legend, all his life and now at long last it looked like he just might have found it.

  "You say this is a new dig?" She forced a note of calm to her voice. "He didn't tell me. Probably didn't want to lure me away from my last few days of class..." her voice drifted off and she stared out the window as if looking halfway around the world at a quest and a dream.

  "That fellow's chest wasn't crushed." Her voice softened to little more than a shocked whisper. The gathering leaned forward as one to catch her words.

  "What do you mean?" Jim stepped to her side.

  Alex strode back to the panel and ran her finger along the spectral glow of skeletal remains. "Look at this." She resisted the impulse to slap the screen in emphasis. "And look closely. The sternum is compressed, not crushed. These are only cursory fractures. Fractures in a significant pattern. Jim, can you think of any ancient medical practices that could account for this?"

  Jim drew his brows together in a puzzled frown. His gaze searched her face as if struggling to understand the question, let alone the answer. "Alex," he shook his head, "I know you did your residency in forensic pathology and your expertise in archeological radiology is impressive. Add to that your unique childhood, you were practically raised in the tombs and pyramids of Egypt, and you may be way out of my league." He shrugged. "But, I have no idea what you're getting at."

  She smothered an urge to laugh hysterically with the incredible significance of her father's discovery. "Those breaks along the sternum are indicative of only one thing." She stepped to the light switch, flipped it on and pulled a deep breath. "Cardiovascular Pulmonary Resuscitation."

  Shocked silence filled the room, then laughter erupted and scorn.

  "CPR? That's impossible. Absolutely ridiculous."

  "You might as well claim it's a heart transplant."

  "I'd say someone needs a vacation."

  Anger swept through her. What a group of ignorant, closed- minded, stick-in-the-muds! And they called themselves scientists. She clenched her teeth to keep her temper in check.

  "Yes, boys. It is time for a vacation. Mine." She turned on her heel, stalked to the door, and yanked it open. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in Egypt."

  "Alex, don't go off half-cocked." Jim grabbed her arm. "And don't get mad at them. What you just suggested is crazy. No one knew CPR a century ago, let alone four-thousand years."

  "How do you know that?" She jerked her arm free, a pleading note sounded in her voice. "Come on, Jim, don't you remember that obscure reference Dad found once and has been trying to prove ever since? You know, the one about the healer with the touch of life?"

  "Of course I remember," he said impatiently. "But that's the stuff of legends, fairy tales, myths. It's right up there with the lost city of Atlantis or Camelot. It's for children, Alex, or fools."

  Are you sure?" she said softly. "Are you so very sure?"

  "Yes." His firm tone brooked no argument. "And I'll repeat myself: no one knew CPR in ancient Egypt."

  Alex glared for a long moment, then a smile slipped through her lips and she raised a s
houlder in a casual shrug. "I'd bet a month's pay...someone did."

  Chapter One

  ALEXANDRIA STONE gazed over the vast ocean of desert. Midday heat rose in shimmering translucent waves. As if to protest the encroaching scientists, a gust of wind pummeled the white-hot sand high into the air and slammed it against the tomb's entrance.

  Shielding her eyes against the stinging grains, Alex studied the white-clad workers as they dropped their newly discovered treasures and huddled together around the dig. A low, rhythmic tremor shuddered along the dune, shifted the sand, and continued downward through the camp.

  "Earthquake!" one turbaned man yelled. Bodies scurried from the excavation.

  "Alex! Come quick.I need you." Her father's anxious cry crackled over the intercom. He was digging in the east chamber today, the deepest, most remote part of the tomb. Something awful must have gone wrong down there. She braced herself against another tremor and rushed forward drunkenly stumbling sideways with the increased shuddering of the earth.

  Tall and white-haired, Professor Ezekiel Stone met her at the base of the incline and waved her downward. "Hurry, Alex, there's been an accident!"

  "Are you all right?" she yelled back, the rumbling all but drowning out her voice.

  "I'm fine, Dear, it's one of the men."

  Relief mixed with the adrenaline already pumping through Alex's veins and she drew in a steadying breath. "I'll get my bag."

  She ran down the slope and ducked inside the tent. Here in Egypt, her medical bag had become part of each waking moment. There was never a shortage of blisters, abrasions, sunburn, and even the occasional broken finger to keep her busy. For the trip, she'd stocked it with so many antibiotics, antimalarials, and other remedies it threatened to burst each time she closed it. But now she was glad for her precautions.

  Bag retrieved, she sprinted back to the tomb and scrambled along the narrow, vertical cavity leading deep inside the main chamber. An inhuman cry met her halfway. The unnerving sound edged its way along her spine. But she wasn't afraid. She hadn't known real fear since childhood. What she felt was anticipation, excitement, a queasy sensation of something yet to happen.

  The pharaohs were a superstitious lot. Throughout the tombs, traps of falling rocks and spinning projectiles had been artfully designed to protect the king's after-world journey against looters. Apparently, it was one of these the workmen had run afoul.

  "It's Ahmed. He was standing near the wall when the quake hit. One of the big stone blocks vibrated lose and fell on him," her father said. "I think it's crushed his leg."

  They entered a large chamber carved completely of solid rock. The walls were still vivid, like a scene straight out of Indiana Jones/Raiders of the Lost Ark. Colorful hieratics covered every inch from ceiling to floor. Just as her father had said, the earthquake had disturbed the wall and dislodged a large square block from its usual perch atop the huge throne occupied by Anubis, the god of the Dead. Beneath his imperious bearing and disapproving stone visage, a group of workmen swathed in diaper-like loin cloths gathered around the source of the screaming.

  Alex elbowed her way through the onlookers, her father close on her heels. "Move aside, everyone. I've brought a doctor," Her father motioned to the workers, who stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed "Clear the way. She needs room to work. Give her some room."

  "A woman, Effendi?" the ghaffir said, his expression horrified. "She cannot touch him." Several men backed up the slope toward the light as if she were the god of the Dead, herself.

  "If you want him to keep this leg, you'll let me touch him." Alex had no patience for the Egyptian prejudices toward women. She knelt and examined the injured man. He was pale and shivering as if caught by a sudden chill. "He's in shock." She swivelled to address her father's foreman. "You, Abi-del. We've got to get this off his leg. Can you improvise a hoist or something?"

  Abi-del glanced at her father.

  Her father gave a perfunctory nod. "Do as she says."

  "But, Effendi." The man's gaze darkened."This is against--"

  "I don't care what it's against, Abi-del," Stone said. "Do it now, or the man will die."

  Abi-del jerked his head twice and four large men positioned themselves on either side of the rock. On the count of three, they heaved upward, bare arms straining. The block barely moved. The victim let out a scream.

  "Bring the hoist loop here," Professor Stone said, glancing at Alex. " We'll fit it over the rock and pull the lever."

  Within seconds Ahmed was free, but his color was dangerously pale, his breathing almost nonexistent. There had been too many accidents at the site already. One more and the Egyptian government would shut her father down.

  "How, is he?" her father asked.

  "He's alive, but we've got to get him to a hospital."

  "No need."

  "What?" Alex was sure she hadn't heard him right. "Dad, I know you want to keep this quiet, but we can't care for him here."

  "Yes, Sweetheart, no question. What I meant was that there's no need to take him all the way to Cairo. They're filming a movie right over the next dune. We'll take him there. They've got a full medical staff and are equipped with an operating theater."

  "Great! Evac him. Now!" Two workmen loaded the injured man onto a stretcher and zipped off in her dad's LandRover in the direction of the film crew.

  Aside from the movie people, this dig was pretty much S.O.P. and once the crisis was over, things at the site rapidly returned to order. Alex had grown up in places like this, following her father around the world, amidst the sand and the sun, and exotic people and their cultures. Dad had spent his life searching for proof that ancient physician practices correlated to modern medicine, while her path had led her to today's medicine in reality. But the dig sites, the tents, the constantly shifting sand brought her the familiar sensation of home. From the age of six, it was the only home she'd known since her mother died. Since her graduation from medical school, each summer she signed on as her father's head physician. It was the only way she got to spend time with him, anymore. And a few weeks with her father was worth the various discomforts of campsite life.

  Alex dusted sand from her shorts and turned to study the chamber. Crude electric bulbs cast a weak light along the deep corridor. Typical Egyptian hieroglyphs spun ancient stories along each wall. Only the large, gaping hole left by the toppled rock broke the endless tales. A false wall, no doubt. Meant to cave in and crush an intruder. A trap this elaborate must protect something pretty important--to an ancient Egyptian, anyway.

  Interested, she crossed to the opening and peeked inside. In the blackness, something large, tall, and shiny caught her attention. A strange, sensation crept up her back, as if someone or something in the inky depths was studying her. She resisted the urge to back away telling herself it was only her imagination.

  Her father's call broke the spell. "Alex, come on. We're knocking off for today. I'll drive you over to check on Ahmed."

  All thoughts of what might be inside the secret room vanished in light of professional duty. Alex climbed up the steep corridor to the open air, leaving the chamber and its eerie feeling behind.

  ROLLING THE luke-warm drink between her palms, Alex brushed the fine Sudanese grit from her chaise and settled in. It had been a long, exhausting day and she looked forward to a few moments of uninterrupted peace. As hot and unbearable as the days were, Egyptian nights kissed the earth with cool promise and a star filled sky. This was the Egypt Alex loved. From ancient times, Egyptians had spent their entire lives in the open air. They even slept on the cool roofs and porches. Alex closed her eyes, remembering her last time beneath these stars. A summer romance, she had met him in the desert close to Giza. He had studied medicine in Cairo and they spent many a night making love beneath these very stars. Not such a bad life, really. Why hadn't she stayed?

  Ahead, in the shadows of the setting sun, a lone figure strode toward her. It was her father. Dusty and tired, he clutched something in his hand. It had
been such a long time since she'd seen him so excited and she eagerly rose to greet him.

  "Alexandria!" His breathless cry alarmed her. He only used her full name in times of great stress. "Look here."

  He exchanged a thick papyrus scroll for her drink and downed the liquid in great thirsty gulps.

  "What's this?"

  "I'm not sure." He tunneled his gnarled callused fingers through his thick white hair. "I found this in the first sarcophagus. I wanted you to see it."

  Alex leaned forward. "Was this parchment with the mummy you found? I saw the x-rays at Northwestern. Interesting." Brief memories of the flawed skeleton glowing against the view box flashed before her eyes. "You shouldn't have sent it there. They didn't understand. That's what brought me here early."

  She rolled the brittle scroll between her fingers. Electric tingles radiated up her arm. She gazed into her father's clear green eyes.

  "I most certainly should have." He smiled. "I need you here with me."

  In all their years of travel together they'd never had a real home. But they didn't need one. Home was with her father. A contented warmth filled her heart. She'd been away from him too long. Ever since his illness, she'd tried to get him to slow down, but he wouldn't hear of it. He'd wanted one thing his whole life--a place in history. Now, if the secret room proved to be untouched by looters, he'd finally have his wish.

  "I think your mummy's a real find, Dad." She reached up and placed her hand in his.

  "Yes, my dear, and the tomb has revealed another room, a secret hiding place." His dreamlike gaze drifted off. "Ahmed's pain will be well rewarded if this one is untouched."

  Alex examined the scroll carefully. "Dad, you know today that rock could've fallen on you. You might've been killed. What if there are more traps?"

  He shrugged, plopped down into the canvas chaise next to hers, and gazed dreamily into the sky. "What ifs...what ifs...If I'd thought about what ifs, I wouldn't have spent forty years searching for this tomb in the first place."