BBC Cult - Printer Friendly Version
The Sands of Time - Instalment Five

Page 1
  

Chapter Six

If Tegan had thought the excavating was boring, she was now looking back on it as a time of excitement and intellectual stimulation. Since solving the Osiran riddle and being half torn apart by the hurricane of what the Doctor described as a \x91psychic typhoon\x92, the archaeologists had settled into a well-rehearsed schedule.

The wind had died down after several minutes. They had rushed to Simons\x92 aid, but it was too late to help him. Tegan had tried to comfort Margaret Evans while Atkins and the Egyptian Nebka laid out Simons in one of the tents where the supplies were stored. The dry desert air would preserve the body for the time being - just as its preserving properties had given the ancient Egyptians the first clues about the possibilities of mummification.

Once the archaeology started in earnest, the Doctor was in his element. He rushed from each archaeologist to the next checking their notes and reviewing their sketches and catalogues. He helped with measurements and suggested theories. He carried relics and copied down hieroglyphics.

Tegan, by contrast, was bored out of her brain. And she wasted no opportunity to tell him this. \x91Can\x92t we just take Nyssa and leave?\x92 she asked him as they examined the tomb chamber yet again.

\x91Leave?\x92 It seemed as though the thought had not occurred to him before. The Doctor continued to sketch a copy of the hieroglyphics which covered a whole wall of the tomb into a notebook.

Tegan watched him for a while. She had initially tried to relieve her boredom by sketching scenes of the excavations. But her interest in expanses of sand, makeshift wooden scaffolding, and stone-floored rooms had foundered after a morning. \x91Yes, leave,\x92 she said eventually. 'As in push off and leave them to it.\x92

\x91But we didn\x92t,\x92 the Doctor pointed out. \x91Did we?\x92

\x91You mean we can\x92t?\x92

Page 2
  

The Doctor closed the notebook, pushed his pencil down the gap between the binding and the spine, and stuck it in his jacket pocket. \x91Probably not. But think about it, Tegan. We know one future set of events - or part of one, anyway - in which we stay with the expedition. And at the end of it, Nyssa is alive.\x92

\x91But if we leave now, we don\x92t know what will happen.\x92 Tegan turned away. \x91I get the picture.\x92

The Doctor\x92s hand clapped down on her shoulder. \x91So why not enjoy it while you can.\x92 \x91You\x92re joking. A load of crumbling brickwork?\x92

\x91It\x92s stone, and it\x92s not crumbling. Tegan,\x92 the Doctor\x92s voice betrayed a hint of exasperation, \x91the pyramids are the oldest and the last surviving of the seven wonders of the ancient world. Each pyramid, including this one so far as I can tell, is exactly aligned along the points of the compass. The base of each is a perfect square. There is not enough space between the stone blocks in the Great Pyramid to insert a razor blade, but if you took those stone blocks and used them to build a wall a foot high and a foot wide, it would stretch two thirds of the way round the equator.\x92

\x91So they\x92re impressive.\x92

\x91Awesome.\x92 \x91Great. I\x92m impressed and overawed,\x92 Tegan told him. \x91And now I want to take Nyssa and leave.\x92

\x91So do I,\x92 the Doctor said quietly. \x91So do I.\x92

Page 3
  

They waited in silence for a while, standing beside the casket that contained their sleeping friend. It was against one wall of the large room. The wall itself was adorned with row after row of hieroglyphics. Above the level of casket on its raised dais, a shelf ran the length of the wall. On it, labelled and ready to be packed for shipping with the other relics stood several items. There was a wide, heavy bracelet made of thick metal. The lower half was semi-circular while the lot was flattened into less of a curve. Across the top was a carved beetle of brilliant blue stone.

Beside the bracelet, a ring with a large blue stone set in it rested on a small cushion of dusty, faded red velvet. Further along, a wooden cobra reared up from its coiled base, throwing a huge shadow of itself on to the wall behind.

Further along the shelf was a statue of a what looked like a black dog. It was about eight inches long, paws facing forwards as it sat upright. Its collar, eyes and tall pointed ears were picked out in gold. Its tail was curled back along its body.

\x91That\x92s interesting,\x92 the Doctor said as he looked along the shelf.

\x91What, the dog?\x92

\x91Dog? More like a jackal. That\x92s Anubis, king of the dead. Watching over his own, no doubt.\x92 The Doctor pointed at the other relics. \x91No, I meant the spacing. The bracelet, ring and snake are evenly spaced. Then there\x92s a gap of over twice the size before the statue of Anubis. Interesting.\x92

\x91Why?\x92

Page 4
  

\x91The Egyptians, like their Osiran mentors, were into measurements in a big way. Exact measurements.\x92

\x91Like the pyramids.\x92

\x91Yes. The topography and geometry of the pyramids is phenomenal.\x92 The Doctor was examining the shelf closely, peering at the gap between cobra and jackal. \x91This chamber, for instance, like the King\x92s Chamber in the Great Pyramid, is at a point in the structure where if you extended the floor to the outside walls, then took the perfect pyramid rising above that plane, you would have one precisely half the size of the original.\x92

\x91Why? I mean, why did they bother?\x92

The Doctor was now examining a particular part of the shelf\x92s surface. \x91Oh it\x92s all to do with power relays and receptor configuration. Boringly exact. Elegantly convoluted. Typical of Osiran technology. Take those shafts, for example.\x92 He waved a hand vaguely at the sloping wall where Tegan had watched Macready, Kenilworth and Evans the previous day measuring a square hole.

\x91They\x92re just ventilation shafts,\x92 she said, repeating what Atkins had told her. \x91So people will believe for the next hundred years or so. Strange how they\x92re exactly aligned with different stars in the constellation of Orion, isn\x92t it?\x92

Tegan considered this. \x91Why hasn\x92t anyone noticed?\x92

\x91Because the Earth wobbles slightly on her axis. I don\x92t think the Osirans allowed for that, probably didn\x92t notice.\x92 He looked up from the shelf thoughtfully.

\x91So?\x92

Page 5
  

\x91So, the relative position of the constellations varies over time. The alignment doesn\x92t work now. But when they were built, it was exact. And it will be again in about twenty-one thousand years.\x92

\x91What happens then?\x92

\x91Hmm? Oh I don\x92t know. Street parties, perhaps. Tegan, what can you think of that has a perfectly round base about three inches in diameter?\x92

Tegan closed her eyes for a second. \x91I haven\x92t a clue, Doctor. What?\x92

\x91I don\x92t know,\x92 he said in a hurt voice, and pointed to a barely discernible mark in the dust on the shelf, an area where the dust was slightly thinner. \x91But whatever it is, it\x92s been removed from its place between the cobra and the jackal.\x92 He looked straight at Tegan. \x91I wonder why,\x92 he said.

Sadan Rassul stared into the falling sand and recited from the Scroll of Thoth. He had chosen a position from which he could direct his words, thoughts and power directly into the tent. The sand spiralled slowly down in a fine spray, building a perfect pyramid in the lower bowl of the hour glass.

As he finished speaking, Rassul set the hourglass down on the ground, and watched the tent, waiting to see movement from within. The hourglass balanced at an angle on the desert floor, but Rassul paid it no heed. He knew from experience that it did not matter whether it stood angled, toppled over, or was upended. The sands had been set in their courses, and whatever happened to the outside of the hourglass, they would continue their fall, would continue to pile perfectly on the foundations laid by previous grains, until all the sand has travelled from one bowl to the other. And then, then his work would be done. And the waiting would be over.

Page 6
  

The tiny drops of sand continued to dribble in an almost imperceptible spray. The top bowl was almost empty, perhaps a fiftieth of the sand remaining. The pile of sand in the lower bowl continued to build its slow pyramid as Rassul lifted the hourglass and carried it back to his small encampment in the valley below.

Beside his footprints was a small impression in the sand, an impression made by the base of the hourglass. It was a perfect circle, about three inches in diameter.

The evening sessions were getting gradually more enthusiastic. Kenilworth had a practice of gathering the members of his expedition together every evening after dinner to discuss the day\x92s work and exchange views and information. The first few meetings had been rather subdued, overshadowed by the strange events in the passageway and the death of Simons.

The first evening had been mainly taken up with the Doctor giving assurances that they were over the worst problems and he did not anticipate any further automata, as Kenilworth described them, posing more fatal brain-teasers. Faced with the task of cataloguing the tomb and its contents, the others did not press the Doctor for more information. Tegan could see how relieved he was that they let the matter drop.

This evening was the first that Margaret Evans had felt up to joining them. Initially she had not ventured from her tent, having food and water sent in. The last two nights she had dined with the others, quiet and pale. Tonight she seemed to be making an effort to get back into things. Tegan made a point of sitting next to her at one of the trestle tables, and noticed that her father seemed hardly to have noticed her demeanour. She had overheard Evans telling Macready a few days previously that his daughter was suffering from fatigue brought on by loss of sleep. And then some, thought Tegan, who had no illusions about what she had really lost.

Page 7
  

Perhaps because of Margaret Evans\x92 reappearance, or perhaps because the Doctor opened the session by asking who had removed an uncatalogued object from the tomb, the proceedings were more lively than usual. Everyone denied vehemently removing anything, and Evans started again on his pet speech about scrupulous documentation. He moved from this directly into suggesting that the stone cladding of the tomb interior and the carved sections of the corridor be dismantled and stripped so they could be returned to England.

Tegan was surprised at the suggestion, and more surprised by the nods that it elicited round the tables. But she was amazed at the Doctor\x92s reaction.

\x91You call yourself an archaeologist?\x92 he said, standing up and leaning over the table at Evans. The small man leaned away, obviously unsettled by the sudden outburst.

\x91Have you no idea of the damage done to the past by that sort of action?\x92 the Doctor went on. \x91I suppose you think that the wonders of ancient Egypt will be better displayed in the Victorian splendour of the British Museum than in their rightful place amongst the desert sands.\x92

\x91Well, actually, ahem -\x92 coughed Evans.

But the Doctor cut him off. \x91I don\x92t know, when will you learn?\x92 He looked towards the deep blue of the heavens, pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and turned a full circle. \x91I know,\x92 he said more quietly, \x91that it is common practice to return home with treasures and even the insides of the tombs that have been surveyed. But I have a theory that archaeology can be better appreciated in-situ, and that if we leave it as undisturbed as possible, then others can make their own assessments with as much evidence as possible.\x92

Page 8
  

\x91I take your point, Doctor,\x92 Macready agreed. \x91But, given the finances that the British Museum has forwarded -\x92

\x91Money, is that what it comes down to?\x92 The Doctor waved his hands in frustration. \x91You\x92ll destroy it, don\x92t you see that.\x92

\x91It\x92s preservation, surely,\x92 Kenilworth interposed.

\x91What? How can you claim such a thing? Even Champollion himself cut the painted royal heads from the walls of the tomb of Amenhotep III so they could be hung in the Bibliotheque Nationale.\x92 The Doctor paced up and down in front of the group as he spoke, his voice gathering speed until he was breathless in his hurry to finish what he was saying. \x91Blank squares in the adorned walls of an ancient burial chamber, just so that the rich socialites of Europe can admire the works of civilizations the living descendants of whom they regard with contempt.\x92

Kenilworth blinked, but said nothing. Macready shifted uncomfortably on his bench, and Evans stared silently, mouth hanging open. Tegan and Margaret exchanged glances, each showing surprise and varying degrees of embarrassment.

\x91Preservation?\x92 the Doctor finished, almost as a whisper, \x91I don\x92t think so.\x92

Kenilworth was the first to break the silence. \x91Doctor,\x92 he said, \x91I don\x92t think any of us here don\x92t share your enthusiasm for the past and your desire to preserve it.\x92 He looked round the others as if to gain their approval and confirmation. \x91But it seems we may differ in our views about how to achieve this. Speaking for myself, I feel that whatever relics we can remove to the more civilised climes of Great Britain stand a better chance of long term survival than those left in a country where every pyramid so far discovered has been robbed of its treasures. Every pyramid until this one.\x92

Page 9
  

The Doctor nodded. \x91I didn\x92t mean to sound as if I doubted your honesty or your motives, and I apologise if that is how it sounded. But -\x92

Kenilworth held up his hand. \x91But,\x92 he finished for the Doctor, \x91you do express some reservations, I think, about tampering with the structure of the find. Forgive me if I misinterpret your worries, Doctor, but it seems to me that your primary concern is for the integrity of the architecture.\x92

The Doctor did not answer immediately. He walked back to his bench and sat down, staring at the top of the table for a while. \x91I suppose that\x92s true,\x92 he said at last. \x91The artefacts can be redistributed, though it\x92s a shame to break up any collection, provided they are scrupulously catalogued and their whereabouts recorded. But I cannot sanction the removal of one block of stone or one chip of paint from the pyramid.\x92

\x91Is it because it\x92s dangerous?\x92 Tegan was wondering if the Doctor was concerned about the Osiran influences and science.

\x91No, Tegan.\x92 The Doctor shook his head sadly. \x91It\x92s because it\x92s criminal. We\x92re talking about breaking things that don\x92t belong to us, and which can never be replaced.\x92

\x91I am in charge of this expedition,\x92 Kenilworth said loudly, standing up and looking it turn at each member of his party. \x91But it is thanks to the Doctor that we are here at all. And probably that we are still alive.\x92 He gave a short nod as if in thanks. \x91So I think we should do as the Doctor asks, and disturb as little as possible. We shall remove relics we believe to be important, and we shall catalogue and document everything, including the minutiae of the structure. But the architecture remains intact. Any questions?\x92

There were none.

Page 10
  

The session broke up soon after. Macready and Evans wandered off to compare some notes, Atkins and Kenilworth spoke quietly with the Doctor. Tegan found herself talking to Margaret Evans.

\x91Is your friend always so forceful?\x92 Margaret asked.

\x91Only when he thinks it\x92s important. Otherwise he varies from indecisive to aloof.\x92 They spoke about the progress of the excavations and the catalogue as they made their way back towards their tents on the far side of the encampment. The canvas of the low supply tents bowed and flapped in the quickening desert breeze.

\x91I wonder,\x92 Margaret said as they passed another of the small tents, \x91may I ask you a small favour?\x92

Tegan shrugged. \x91Depends what it is. Ask away.\x92

\x91Would you wait here a moment?\x92

\x91Is that it?\x92

Margaret gestured to the nearest tent. \x91This is where they put poor Nicholas\x92s body. I look at him each day, just to check that he is...\x92 She struggled for a word, and decided on \x91peaceful.\x92

Tegan nodded. \x91He meant a lot to you, didn\x92t he?\x92

\x91He had been assistant to my father for a long time.\x92 She looked down at the ground, making tiny circles in the sand with the toe of her leather boot. \x91He was always so tense and jittery when I was near him. And now he seems so calm.\x92

Page 11
  

Tegan crossed her fingers behind her back. \x91I\x92m sure he valued your company enormously,\x92 she said.

\x91Do you really think so?\x92 Margaret\x92s face lit up, catching the fading sunlight. In that moment she shed ten years.

Tegan smiled back. \x91I\x92ll wait here,\x92 she said.

The scream came almost immediately. The flap of the tent\x92s entrance had barely fallen back into place when Margaret re-emerged, her face white and her eyes wide and streaming.

\x91He\x92s gone,\x92 she said between deep rasping sobs. \x91Nicholas has gone.\x92

A general search of the camp revealed nothing. Nebka, under Atkins\x92 supervision, organised the reluctant Egyptian workers to check the tents and the surrounding area, but still they found nothing.

Tegan did her best to comfort the distraught Margaret. The Doctor seemed to be wandering aimlessly round the camp, his expression getting gradually darker as the evening drew in and faded into night.

\x91It\x92s a mystery, and no mistake,\x92 Kenilworth said as he called off the search due to bad light. \x91What do you reckon, Doctor?\x92

\x91I reckon,\x92 the Doctor said, \x91that we should all get a good night\x92s sleep and then do our best to finish here as soon as we can.\x92

\x91Well,\x92 Atkins said to the Doctor as they parted company on the way to their tents, \x91one thing\x92s for sure, he didn\x92t go for a little walk.\x92

In the darkening chill of the desert night, the Doctor\x92s expression was unreadable and his muttered words were lost in the breeze.

Page 12
  

The wind whistled through the canvas tents and swished across the sand dunes. It brought comfort to Kenilworth, who was used to the sound and felt almost at home when he could hear the desert. It annoyed Macready as it seemed to swell just as he was dropping off, jerking him wider awake each time. It was of no consequence to Atkins, who settled down neatly in his pyjamas and went immediately and efficiently to sleep, boots polished and clothes laid out for the next day. It irritated Evans as he was first concerned about his daughter\x92s demeanour and wondered what could be the cause, and then worried about where he would find a personal secretary as trustworthy as Simons.

The wind blew Rassul\x92s thin cotton clothes about him as he knelt beside the hourglass and watched the reflections of the stars of Orion wrapped about the glass. It wailed its complementary lamentation through Margaret\x92s tent and punctuated her sobs with its moans.

It failed to register its existence with the Doctor as he sat cross-legged on the floor of his tent, deep in thought. And it drove Tegan to clasp a pillow over her head and think of her father\x92s farm and the family she had lost.

Eventually she could stand it no longer, and Tegan threw off her covers. She grabbed the cloak she had not believed she would need, but had then discovered had been packed for her anyway. Then she fumbled with the oil lamp on the low table beside her camp bed until it flickered into life.

Tegan needed to talk to someone, and her choices were somewhat limited. She was not at all sure she was in the right mood to talk to Margaret; she was certain the Doctor was not in the right mood to talk to her. Kenilworth and Atkins would be asleep. And even if they were not, one of them would not understand the emotions she was feeling, while the other would not understand that she was feeling emotions at all.

Page 13
  

Which left her just one choice. If you could have a single choice. Probably not, she decided as she realized that she had walked through the camp and was pushing through the canvas cover over the entrance to the pyramid even as she decided where she was going. No choice at all.

The corridor up to the burial chamber was steeper than she remembered. She leaned forward and pulled her cloak tighter with one hand, holding her lamp in front of her with the other. The dim light threw a faint aura in front of her, and elongated the cuts of the engraved hieroglyphics. It lingered in the cold of her breath, and drew the painted pupils of the shabti\x92s eyes so the statues seemed to watch her as she passed.

When she reached the chamber, Tegan placed the lamp on the shelf at the head of the coffin. It fitted neatly over the circle the Doctor had noticed between the relics. \x91Perhaps I should suggest it was an ancient Egyptian oil lamp,\x92 Tegan said quietly to the carved figure on the coffin lid. Nyssa\x92s painted, impassive features stared back without comment. \x91Maybe they had oil lamps,\x92 she continued, sitting down with her back to the wall and drawing up her knees. She was looking along the length of the sarcophagus towards the doorway. Her head was probably on a level with Nyssa\x92s within the casket.

\x91I hope you don\x92t mind company, but I couldn\x92t sleep. Could have gone to see the Doctor, I suppose. I doubt if he\x92s asleep. But I don\x92t think he\x92d understand.

\x91The wind sounds just like on the farm. Dad used to say it was there to keep us company, watching over us and keeping us safe. I believed him. I believed everything Dad told me. Well, almost everything. But it\x92s different here. It sounds more spooky. Like it\x92s out to get us, not to watch us.

Page 14
  

\x91I can still hear Dad\x92s voice, I can hear him saying \x93keeping us safe.\x94 Isn\x92t that odd? Because I have to really think to remember what he looked like. And when I do remember, it doesn\x92t matter where he is, he always looks like he does in the photo on the kitchen wall. Same expression, same position. Everything. Funny.

\x91I hope you don\x92t mind me talking away. It\x92s what I do best. Well, it\x92s what I do most of, anyway. Get lots of friends that way. You never talked much. Probably keep lots of friends that way.

\x91The picture of you is quite good, by the way. Got the eyes, though the hair\x92s not quite right. I keep thinking you will push off the lid, sit up and answer me. But I know you won\x92t. I don\x92t know if you can hear, and if you can I don\x92t know if you\x92ll remember. I\x92m sorry it\x92s taking so long, but the Doctor says we have to do what Blinovitch says, or something. God, I\x92m bored - how must you feel.

\x91I miss you, Nyssa. I can talk to you. I mean to you, not at you.

\x91It was the same with Dad. It\x92s not the sudden wrench or loss, you get over that. It\x92s the never-again. I can\x92t remember how Dad looked when he was joking, though I could recognize it at once. And now I\x92ll never know. I\x92ll never feel his arms round me and his warmth as he hugged me home at the end of school. He was so warm, so safe. I can feel him now, holding me safe.

\x91He listened, always. I was always talking sense when I spoke to Dad; I was always interesting when I spoke to Dad; I was always right when I spoke to Dad, even if he then told me something that was even more right.

Page 15
  

\x91But never again. It\x92s not that we\x92ve lost him, it\x92s worse. He\x92s gone, and he\x92s never coming back. Not ever.

\x91Oh God, Nyssa, talk to me. I\x92m sick of what I say and how I say it. I know how everyone else feels. The Doctor listens, but only so he can disagree. Though I suppose that\x92s better than nothing.

\x91Nothing. Just me. Alone. Alone in the water trying to find the light.

\x91Please talk to me, Nyssa... Please...

\x91I\x92ve forgotten what your voice sounds like.\x92

Tegan sat alone in the flickering quiet for a while. Her arm lay across the top of the sarcophagus, her hand stoking gently at the face. Then she pushed herself up, knees braced so that her feet pushed against the floor and her back worked its way up the wall. When her shoulders felt the edge of the shelf behind her, she reached out her arm and pushed herself away from the wall as she stood upright. Her hand pushed against the centre of a hieroglyphic.

And she felt it give.

Tegan held the lamp up to inspect the damage. Her first thought was that she had pushed through a plaster covering, or damaged the paint. She could imagine the Doctor\x92s comments if she had. The hieroglyph was a set of small pictures surrounded by an upright oval border. The top symbol was a jagged horizontal line, as if the stone had been cut with crimping shears. Below it was an outlined square with a section of the lower side missing, and below that a snake. The bottom symbol was a human figure lying on its back.

Page 16
  

The incomplete square had pushed slightly inwards. Tegan could see the deeper recess between the outline cuts in the stone. She reached out, tentatively, and pushed slightly in the centre of the square.

Sure enough, it moved. She pushed harder, and it moved further inwards. And with a deep grating sound, the whole of that section of the wall moved away with it. Tegan was looking at a huge hidden doorway. She could see nothing of the room beyond, shadows seemed to spill out of it. In panic she pushed at the square again, hoping to be able to prise her fingernails between the stone, and remembering what the Doctor had said about razorblades.

The square pushed back at her, and sprang forward. Tegan took a step backwards, and the heavy door swung shut again. She stared at the wall, holding the oil lamp close to the stonework. But it was impossible to see where the doorway was. Tegan reached out again for the hieroglyph. Then, as her fingers touched it, she snatched her hand away, turned, and left the burial chamber.

\x91Well done, Tegan.\x92 The Doctor was so enthusiastic that she thought for a second he was being sarcastic. \x91I knew there had to be more to this than just Nyssa. It makes no sense otherwise.\x92

Tegan had not been surprised to find the Doctor sitting cross-legged on the floor of his tent staring at the canvas flap as it blew in the wind. But she had expected less interest in her discovery. At the very least she had thought he would make some comment about her wandering around the pyramid in the dead of night, but he hadn\x92t even mentioned it. Perhaps from his perspective such things were perfectly normal behaviour.

Page 17
  

Feeling rather more confident, Tegan demonstrated the hidden doorway with a degree of smugness which the Doctor seemed not to notice. In fact he peered closely at the hieroglyphics and seemed more interested in the symbols than in the area of blackness revealed behind them.

\x91All in good time, be patient, Tegan,\x92 he murmured as she hopped from foot to foot.

\x91So what does it mean?\x92

\x91Hmm? Oh, I don\x92t know. Have to think about it for a while, my ancient Egyptian isn\x92t what it was four thousand years ago.\x92

\x91You mean you can\x92t read it?\x92

The Doctor straightened up and whipped off his half-moon spectacles. \x91Of course I can read it. But you asked me what it means.\x92

\x91Same difference.\x92

He shook his head. \x91Context is key,\x92 he said. \x91Ask me again when we\x92ve looked inside the hidden room.\x92

\x91Why?\x92

Page 18
  

The Doctor visibly braced himself and made a point of keeping calm. \x91Egyptian hieroglyphs are not an exact language, Tegan. Their order is important to their meaning, yet the scribes would rearrange them so they looked good rather than meant what was intended. That set of hieroglyphs could be read from top to bottom or from bottom to top, and each way it means something different. It could be that the final symbol in the sequence - whichever that is - gives an overall impression of the word or phrase so as to reiterate and reinforce the thought. Or not. Depending on the exact age, the alphabet may have different inflections and meaning.\x92

\x91Not easy, then?\x92

\x91Not, as you say, easy.\x92 He picked up the oil lamp which they had rested on the shelf beside the door.

Tegan nodded slowly. \x91Why\x92s it got a ring round it?\x92 she asked.

The Doctor glared at her, pushed past, and disappeared into the darkness. \x91It\x92s a cartouche,\x92 his voice floated out of the void.

The room was smaller than the chamber they had just left. It was almost completely bare. There was a central dais, and a four large ornate sarcophagi stood upright, one in each of the corners of the room. The walls were covered in hieroglyphics, stretching up to the ceiling which arched above them. The only breaks were for ventilation shafts like the ones in the main burial chamber. There was one in each wall, dark openings about four inches square.

On the raised dais in the centre of the room was a casket. It was a sarcophagus similar to Nyssa\x92s, but the outside was completely devoid of decoration. A matte black oval of polished stone with a thin line of deeper black which marked the point where the lid joined the base. The Doctor was already standing beside it, hands in pockets examining the polished lid, as Tegan entered the room.

\x91So what\x92s a cartouche?\x92 she asked as she joined him.

Page 19
  

\x91Hmm?\x92 He looked up, eyes focusing at a point somewhere behind her head. \x91Oh, French. Coined by Napoleon\x92s team when they arrived in Egypt in 1798. They were the first real Egyptian archaeologists, and thought those oval shapes were like their cartridges. Cartouche is French for cartridge. And for carton.\x92 A puzzled look swept over his face. \x91Perhaps it was the cartons the cartridges came in they thought they looked like. Language again - needs a context.\x92

\x91Yes, but what is it, Doctor?\x92

The Doctor\x92s face cleared as he answered. \x91Oh it\x92s a royal name. The oval represents a loop of rope encircling the name. The loop represents eternity, and if you put your name inside it you\x92ll live forever.\x92

\x91Will you?\x92

\x91No, of course not,\x92 the Doctor admonished. \x91But they thought they would. And everything\x92s about living forever if you\x92re a Pharaoh.\x92 He returned his attention to the sarcophagus. \x91Or an Osiran, come to that.\x92

Tegan folded her arms and shifted her weight to her right leg. \x91You keep going on about these Osirans, Doctor,\x92 she said. \x91Who are they?\x92

\x91Who were they, rather,\x92 the Doctor said. \x91An odd sort from Phaester Osiris. Big on guile and cunning. Short on applied morals, though Horus got moving when his uncle started destroying everything for the hell of it. Here, help me lift this back, will you?\x92 He gestured to the coffin lid, and took up position on one side of the casket. Tegan stood opposite him as the Doctor counted to three. Then together they heaved the heavy lid back along the sarcophagus. The Doctor lifted the oil lamp which he had stood at the base of the dais, and they peered through the narrow opening.#

Page 20
  

\x91Oh how boring,\x92 the Doctor said as the contents were revealed. \x91It\x92s just another mummy.\x92

They pulled the heavy lid back over the coffin.

\x91What were you expecting?\x92 Tegan asked.

The Doctor shrugged. \x91Nephthys,\x92 he said.

\x91Who?\x92

He exhaled loudly and spoke with exagerrated patience. \x91The cartouche you found includes the symbol for a door, that square with a section missing. But being within an oval, it should be a name. If you read it from the top down and assume the horizontal figure is to give some context to the name, then it could read Nephthys.\x92

\x91Was he an Osiran?\x92

\x91She,\x92 the Doctor said, \x91was the sister and wife of Sutekh. And sister of Isis and Osiris, though that\x92s less worrying.\x92

Tegan did not reply.

The Doctor frowned at her lack of response. \x91Nephthys was a goddess, and may not have actually existed. Sutekh, her brother according to legend, was an Osiran. He was cornered on Earth by Horus and seven hundred and forty of his fellow Osirans and imprisoned for all eternity beneath a pyramid.\x92

Page 21
  

Tegan laughed. \x91That\x92s all right then.\x92

\x91Till he escapes in 1911 it is, yes.\x92 The Doctor waved away her worried expression. \x91But that\x92s all sorted out now. All ancient Egyptian culture is based on the Osiran history. And I don\x92t know much about an Osiran called Nephthys, but if the Egyptian myths are half true...\x92 His voice tailed off into the darkness.

\x91Yes? If they\x92re right?\x92

The Doctor turned and stepped down from the dais. \x91If this time we have to deal with Nephthys, and the myths have a grain of truth in them -\x92 He broke off again, considered, then went on: \x91If Sutekh had escaped, no power in the Universe could have stopped him from wreaking havoc and destruction. This time, it\x92s worse.\x92

Tegan considered. The Doctor stood in the doorway and surveyed the room. After a moment he pulled out a notepad and a pencil and started to scribble frantically.

\x91What are you doing?\x92

He did not look up. \x91I\x92m copying down the hieroglyphics. I\x92ll make a stab at deciphering some of them later. But before that, I suggest we seal up this room, and tell nobody about it.\x92

\x91But why?\x92

\x91Oh Tegan, haven\x92t you been listening?\x92

Page 22
  

Tegan joined the Doctor in the doorway and watched as he scrawled down line after line of symbol with uncanny speed and unerring accuracy. \x91I thought you\x92d be getting into the thick of it all,\x92 she said. \x91I mean, it sounds like your sort of thing.\x92 Tegan glanced at the nearest of the four huge sarcophagi where it stood upright in the corner by the door.

\x91I never get involved in stuff on this scale, if it is on this scale,\x92 the Doctor said. Then he caught sight of Tegan\x92s expression. \x91Well, maybe occasionally,\x92 he admitted. \x91But what\x92s the most important thing at the moment?\x92

Tegan had no doubts. \x91To save Nyssa.\x92

\x91Exactly.\x92 The Doctor turned away and she could not see his expression as he flipped shut his notepad and left the room. \x91And I will not do anything to jeopardise that.\x92 Tegan caught up with the Doctor in the burial chamber. He was holding a larger notepad, which she recognized as belonging to Evans. She half remembered seeing it earlier resting on a low table in the chamber.

\x91What are you doing?\x92

The Doctor flipped the pad shut and replaced it on the table. \x91Insurance,\x92 he said. \x91Come on.\x92

\x91What do you mean?\x92

\x91You were lucky to find the hidden door,\x92 the Doctor said as they made their way down the corridor towards the desert night. \x91But the clues are there in the hieroglyphs. We leave tomorrow, but there\x92s always a danger someone will examine Evans\x92 drawings and wonder what the symbols mean. And I don\x92t think it\x92s a good idea for people to poke about in the room we\x92ve just seen.\x92

Page 23
  

\x91Even if it doesn\x92t have a dead Osiran in it?\x92

\x91Yes, well the mummy was human enough. Female Homo Sapiens, circa five thousand BC. But even then...\x92

\x91So what have you done?\x92

The Doctor held aside the canvas doorway for Tegan. \x91I\x92ve corrected Evans\x92 drawing,\x92 he said. \x91So that the doorway and the name of Nephthys don\x92t appear.\x92

Atkins ran the final day like a military operation. He had spent the previous evening mapping out an exact timetable for finishing the documentation and providing an inventory of relics to be removed and packed for transport back to Britain. It had been agreeably like planning the details of the servants\x92 duties and listing the shopping requirements for the next day back at Kenilworth House. But without the helpful and agreeable company of Miss Warne.

He stood at the entrance to the pyramid, the early evening sun beating down on him, and ticked off the items on a clipboard as the Egyptians removed them. Nebka had agreed his men would enter the corridor, but they would not go so far as to enter the burial chamber itself. Macready, Evans and Kenilworth boxed up the relics, with help from the Doctor and Tegan. They worked from a hand-copied version of Atkins\x92 list. Then Atkins checked the relics were taken to the packing tent. There, Margaret Evans seemed sufficiently recovered to supervise the loading of the boxes into larger packing cases. The packing cases were designed to fit into the panniers of the camels.

They were almost finished now, exactly to the schedule which Atkins had suggested. He was satisfied, but not surprised. The last few relics were carried out, and Atkins checked the details written on the box lid, then ticked them off.

Page 24
  

\x91Jewelled ring on velvet cushion from shelf by sarcophagus in main chamber.\x92 He scratched a tick against the same wording on his copy of the list. \x91Snake statuette from shelf by sarcophagus in main chamber.\x92 Another tick. \x91Bracelet with scarab beetle motif from shelf by sarcophagus in main chamber.\x92 Tick. \x91Stone figure of Anubis from shelf by sarcophagus in main chamber.\x92

Atkins looked over his list during the pause before the next relic was brought out. There was only one thing left to be removed - the sarcophagus itself. The sarcophagus and the mummy inside, which only Atkins, the Doctor and Tegan knew was the entire reason for the expedition.

Atkins wondered vaguely what would happen after they sealed the pyramid that evening and made their way back to London, what would happen when they arrived back and Kenilworth House. And found he was still there.

Behind him, the Doctor, Kenilworth, Evans and Macready emerged slowly from the doorway. They carried the sarcophagus high on their shoulders. Tegan followed them, head down and face shrouded in shadow. They made their way slowly up the incline towards the packing tent, shuffling slowly through the soft sand like a funeral procession.

As they left the pyramid, Nebka and his men pulled shut the door.

Page 25
  

The night was quiet and still. Two shadowy figures made their way past the snoring lookout and lurched down the shifting slope of sand into the pit where the entrance to the pyramid had been excavated. The door was tight shut, but the bearers had not yet buried it again in the desert.

Rassul reached out and pressed on the side of the door. He knew the exact pressure point, remembered it clearly. Just as he remembered the low grating sound as the door swung slowly open. He glanced back towards the rim of the excavations, but nobody came running to investigate the noise. In a moment, the two figures had passed inside, and the door was an empty hole of blackness.

They made their way quickly up the corridor, pausing only for Rassul to light his lamp. In the flickering light, the two men surveyed the bare burial chamber, checked the shelf where the relics had stood beside the coffin. Rassul nodded slowly, he had known what he would find. He went over to the wall, scanned the hieroglyphs for a moment, then reached for the centre of the unfinished square in the cartouche of Nephthys\x92 name.

Once inside the hidden chamber, Rassul moved to the nearest of the four sarcophagi and pulled aside the heavy lid. It hinged like a door, swinging slowly open in response the Rassul\x92s efforts. He repeated the process with each of the other three.

His colleague stood silent and still in the doorway, watching unblinking as Rassul stepped into the centre of the room and raised his hands high above the raised coffin.

\x91Biesmey Nephthys,\x92 he called out, \x91um wallacha.\x92

Page 26
  

In each of the open caskets, a figure stirred. As Rassul continued to recite the words of power, the four huge, bandaged figures stretched long-still limbs and stepped forward into the guttering light.

Each of the figures was seven feet tall. Heavy legs moving the body stiffly forward with a rolling motion that transferred the weight of the mummy from one leg to the other as the figure twisted its way forwards towards the central dais. The linen-wrapped arms ended in large hands, fingers apparently wrapped together, thumb clamping against them. The chest was a jutting slope of bandage beneath the enormous shoulders. The head seemed perfectly symmetrical under the bindings, flat surfaces pushing back from the middle as if the eyes beneath were huge ovals covering the cheeks.

The wind was picking up again outside, amplified and distorted by the corridor so that it sounded like organ music rising in pitch and volume as the mummies stopped in front of the dais and Rassul slowly lowered his arms.

From the doorway, the pale figure with dark sunken eyes, split skull and bloodstained clothes nodded slowly. \x91As it was written,\x92 the corpse of Nicholas Simons rasped.

His words sounded as though they were spoken through broken glass.

Page 27
  

Phaester Osiris

The door slammed shut and the psi-projectors locked on maximum as soon as he was in the capsule. There was no meeting, no dissuasion, no concession. A trick to lure Osiris into the pyramid and then launch it into space.

Osiris looked round the bare interior of the capsule and felt the floor shudder under his feet. It was just an empty shell. There were no sensors, no projection dome, no psi-tronic particle accelerators. It was a plain pyramid structure powered by a remote psi projection.

The mind of Sutekh.

\x91A childish stratagem, my brother,\x92 Osiris hissed, shaking his jackal-head. It was a mere thought to project himself back to Phaester Osiris.

His eyes glowed with the trivial effort. Then flared angrily as he felt another mind reach out like a hand and smother his thought in a fist of malevolent mental energy. It was unshaking, constant and solid. He was trapped.

The atmosphere was becoming noticeably thinner. For all his powers, Osiris needed to breathe. He gasped and clawed for air as he considered the options. It could not be happening. Sutekh\x92s mental power was projecting the capsule. Great though his powers were, he could not project the capsule through space and cloud Osiris\x92s mind at the same time. He had to have an accomplice, another Osiran was helping Sutekh.

But who would dare? Who would risk everything by assisting Sutekh the Destroyer, the Lord of Death?

As he felt the faint chuckle of laughter in his mind\x92s ear, Osiris knew. He fought to suppress the sound.

The walls of the capsule were blurring before his eyes as he struggled to breathe. Isis would come after him, of course. But by then it would be too late. All his sister-wife would find would be his body, the mind wrenched from it by death. Unless there was another receptacle close enough for him to project into. He could not break free of the grip enough to project his whole form, but perhaps his mind...

Osiris sank to his knees. And the laughter of his sister Nephthys rang unhindered in his head.