Area 51: Excalibur-6 (3 page)

"The Chariot of the Gods," Asim whispered.

The object passed by overhead and hovered above the very top of the pyramid, five hundred feet above their heads. A glow extended down from the disk and surrounded the red Master Guardian. The Guardian was twenty feet high at the base and had been brought out of the Earth below by Asim and other priests, following instructions as handed down through the ages. It had been laboriously dragged to the top just the previous week to complete the pyramid by being dragged up the scaffolding that had been wrapped around the edifice. Although larger than blocks used in the structure, Khufu knew it was lighter because of the number of men needed to pull it, indicating that it was not solid. No one knew what it was made of, as the red surface had seemed to shimmer, and men feared to touch it.

Khufu started as the Master Guardian separated from the pyramid, lifting into the air as if by magic. The golden object, with the Guardian in tow, began withdrawing in the direction it had come from, to the north. Khufu watched until it disappeared into the night sky, then he turned to Asim.

"Where does it go?"

"To a secure place, my lord. Separate from the key."

"Why separate the two?"

"The Master Guardian will be more secure if the key is not with it." Asim absently rubbed his empty eye socket. 'The sword you hold was once wielded by the greatest of the Gods. With it he controlled the Master Guardian, and in turn his entire domain."

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Khufu looked at the smooth blade. He had never seen such fine metal. "It is a great weapon, then."

"It is," Asim said. "Especially as it controls the power for the Master Guardian. It allows whoever has the sword to be very powerful." "And now?"

"Have your troops scoured the desert for the spider creature, my lord?"

"They have found no sign of the sky monster, but have apprehended all the people they found to the west."

Asim nodded. "The prisoners must be part of what we do in the morning."

"And?" Khufu pressed.

"My lord, tomorrow we must complete the undoing of what our people have worked so hard to do over the past twenty years." He pointed. "The facing of the pyramid must be removed." "Why?"

"It sent out a signal, my lord, but it did not bring the Gods as hoped, but their enemy."

Khufu knew the pyramid could be seen far away, and he imagined that if one could be in the sky as the spider creature had been, it could be seen at a great distance indeed. He did not wish for a repeat of that. "It will be done."

Hidden in the dark shadows of a refuse pile of cracked stone blocks the watcher from the desert had observed the same thing as Khufu and Asim. He'd noted the direction the golden disk flew off in, Master Guardian with it. Despite the darkness of his hide, he wrote all that he had seen down on a piece of reed parchment. As his hand moved, a large ring with an eye symbol reflected the scant starlight.

Then, keeping to ground he knew well, he made his way

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off the Giza Plateau and to a small hut near the Nile. Inside, he checked the writing, making sure it reported accurately what he had seen, then rolled it and slid it into a tube. He poured wax from a candle on the end and then used the ring to seal it with an imprint—the imprint had the same design as that on the medallion worn around Asim's neck.

He slid the tube inside his robes and sat down cross-legged on the sand floor, waiting for the sun to rise. He'd managed to escape the Pharaoh's troops in the desert, sticking to the hidden ways. He'd noted that the members of the Libyan caravan had been brought to the plateau in chains, the man he'd seen disappear under the sand among them.

Tomorrow would be a most interesting day, he mused.

When dawn came, it was assembly-line murder.

The great Pharaoh Khufu, son of King Sneferu and Queen Hetpeheres, ruler of the Middle Kingdom, watched, his face impassive, as rivers of blood flowed down the smooth limestone facing of the Great Pyramid.

He was at the flat top where the Master Guardian had been, over 480 feet above the Giza Plateau, seated in a throne made of gold. Four sacrificial tables were spread out in the small space in front of him, manned by priests of the Cult of Isis.

Asim was working swiftly as there were many thousands of throats to be cut. A long line of stoop-shouldered men stood on the wooden scaffolding that led to the level platform at the top of the pyramid where Asim wielded Excalibur, the sword of the Gods, moving from table to table, sliding the razor-sharp blade across throats. Soldiers ensured that the line kept moving. Every worker who had spent even one minute inside the pyramid during its construction was in that line. When Asim's work was done, the only ones to have been inside the pyramid and live would be Khufu and Asim.

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As each worker reached the top, two soldiers would lift him bodily, throw him onto a slab, pinning his shoulders down, and a priest would hold his head back, waiting for Asim to come by and draw Excalibur across the man's throat while quickly muttering the necessary prayer. Blood would spurt out of his carotid arteries, be caught by the lip of the slab, and be channeled into several holes to reed pipes at the bottom, which directed it to the edge of the platform and dispersed it onto the side of the pyramid. Three sides were drenched red and the reed pipes had just been redirected to the fourth side. As spectacular as the white limestone facing had been when pure, in an obscene way, the glistening red covering of blood made it even more awe-inspiring.

Dulled by years of labor, surrounded by troops, and conditioned to obey their Pharaoh and Gods without question, the men stood in line with little protest.

Occasionally one would try to bolt, to be cut down by the guards immediately and the body hauled to the top.

Not only were priests and workers among the condemned, but so were all those who had been caught in the desert to the west the previous day. The Libyan who had approached the sand dune was dragged up with chains around his ankles and thrown onto an altar. He had his head up, looking around as if noting all. When his eyes fell upon Excalibur in Asim's hands, his calm demeanor suddenly changed and he struggled in the guards' grip. As Asim drew the sword of the Gods across the man's neck, the body convulsed, sitting straight up despite the blood pouring from the sliced arteries in his neck. Asim stepped back in shock, Excalibur held up defensively. The two soldiers who'd brought the Libyan to the altar grabbed his shoulders.

The Libyan snatched the soldiers' necks and smashed their heads together, killing them. Asim used the opportunity

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to jab forward with the sword, the blade punching into the Libyan's stomach.

An unearthly scream roared out of the man's wide-open mouth. Khufu, behind a line of his imperial guards, was less than ten feet away, watching the bizarre spectacle. The Pharaoh gasped in horror as Asim struck once more before the Libyan's body was ripped apart from the inside. The tip of a tentacle punched out of the man's skin from his chest.

The tentacle was gray and tipped with three digits that bent and twisted as they grasped for a target. The body of the Libyan was bent in an extremely unnatural manner, as if the spine had been turned into a loose string. Asim swung the sword, severing the end of the tentacle. The end that fell to the stone shriveled as if baked, while the other slid back into the body. Then the priest stepped back, Excalibur at the ready.

"What was that?" Khufu demanded.

Asim jabbed the sword several more times into the body, but there was no movement. "Burn the body," Asim ordered several of the Imperial guard. "Scatter the ashes."

As they gingerly picked up the Libyan's body, Asim walked over to the Pharaoh, sweat staining his robes. "The Ancient Enemy, my lord. It came out of what we saw yesterday."

Khufu could only shake his head, the events of the past twenty-four hours threatening to overwhelm his sanity. "What kind of enemy is this?"

"It is the enemy of the Gods and our enemy."

"How did it get in that man?"

"I do not know, my lord. I was told to watch for this by the apparition yesterday."

"How did it survive? We saw the sky thing destroyed."

"I do not know that either, my lord, but the apparition 20

warned me it could. And it told me that the sword would

kill it."

Khufu looked at the blade in Asim's hands. "That is indeed very powerful."

"It was designed so that whoever wielded it could rule supreme," Asim said.

Khufu understood that concept of consolidating power and ruling supreme. A thing that one person could carry and that held such power held both great opportunity and great

danger.

Asim signaled for the soldiers to continue to bring prisoners forward and went back to his grim task. By the time the last worker was dead and the body unceremoniously tossed over the side to be burned, all four sides of the Great Pyramid were stained red. There was no repeat of what had happened with the Libyan.

Over five thousand had died in four hours. Asim came back to Khufu, his arm trembling with exhaustion. He handed the sword to Khufu, who slid the bloodstained blade into the scabbard.

"I have done as the Gods ordered me," Asim said. "Now you must have your men finish what must be done to the

pyramid."

Khufu gave the orders. Soldiers hammered spikes into joints all along the edge of the platform, between the white limestone blocks on the facing and the more coarse building stones underneath. What had been so carefully placed and fitted onto the pyramid, was ripped off, the stone tumbling down to the ground, revealing the unfinished stone underneath.

The destruction of the facing begun, Khufu took his leave before the ramp was destroyed, Asim close at his side. When they reached the ground, they went to the Great Sphinx. The Horus statue between the paws had been removed, replaced by a stone one. The original had been taken by Asim and his 21

priests into the Roads of Rostau in the early morning, to what destination, only the high priest knew. The men who had helped drag it underground were among those killed. Khufu and Asim stood between the massive stone paws, out of earshot of anyone else.

"You must decree that no one will write of this day's events, my lord," Asim said.

Khufu said nothing. He had begun the day with hopes of immortality, and as night fell, he was seeing his greatest achievement defaced. He had hoped that building the Great Pyramid would bring him the favor of the Gods. Instead, all was crumbling around him. It would not be hard to issue an order to ensure that no one wrote of this. He could sense the fear among his people—the flying spider thing, the killings, the creature coming out of the Libyan, and the desecration of the pyramid's facing. A cloud passed by, blocking the sun, and Khufu shivered.

"What should I do with the sword?" Khufu asked. "Perhaps I should keep it in case we are attacked again."

"It was the Master Guardian that stopped the Ancient Enemy craft," Asim said,

"not the sword. Without the facing, the pyramid will not be found by the Ancient Enemy." Asim pointed at Excalibur. "Without the sword, the Master Guardian is powerless."

"How can that be?"

"I do not know but it is what I was told. And what people may desire in the duats along the Roads of Rostau are secure in one form or another."

"Why did you have to use Excalibur and not your ceremonial dagger?" Khufu asked.

"The sword has another special power," Asim said. "As you saw, it is the only thing that can kill the undead and the immortal."

"The undead?"

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"The Ancient Enemy."

"The immortal?" Khufu stepped closer to the priest. "Someone has partaken of the Grail?'

"I very much doubt it," Asim said, "but all who could have had access to the duats had to die."

"I do not understand," Khufu said.

"I do not either, my lord," Asim said. "I only do what the Gods command. The sword is the key that must be hidden away again."

"Why did the gods have us build that"—Khufu jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the pyramid—"if it would only bring enemies?"

"The Gods hoped it would bring their kindred Gods from the sky," Asim said. It was the same answer he had given before, but Khufu felt despair.

"And now?" Khufu spread his hands wide. "Now what do I do?"

"You rule, my lord," Asim said.

"What will I do with Excalibur?" Khufu asked once more.

"We will leave it in the sheath and return it to its place in the duats so that the Gods may have access to it when it is needed. When the Master Guardian is returned or needed

again."

On one hand, Khufu was reluctant to pass the sword back to the high priest. It was, after all, the sword of the Gods and obviously very powerful. But that same thought frightened him with the potential responsibility for having such a thing. He unbuckled it from his belt and handed it over to Asim, who tucked it under his cloak.

Asim left Khufu watching the desecration of the greatest achievement of his realm, indeed in the entire history of mankind, and headed toward the Sphinx. He used his scepter and the stone door slid open. He entered, the door sliding shut behind him.

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He made his way down the stone corridor, scepter in one hand, Excalibur in the other. He paused, cocking his head, as if he sensed something was wrong. He waited several moments, then continued. When he reached the intersection, he turned right and came to a complete halt as a man stepped forward to confront him.

Asim held the sword in his good hand, across the front of his body, still covered by the sheath. "Kaji. I knew you would be about. Scurrying around like the rat you are."

"Even a rat is better than being a slave," Kaji said.

Asim spit at the other man's feet. "You Watchers. You have betrayed our ancient priesthood."

Kaji shook his head. "We betrayed? Whom did we betray? The 'gods' who left us to fend for ourselves? Who allowed our homes to be destroyed, our people killed?

What did you perform today? How many people died today because of the 'gods'?