Channeling Cleopatra (25 page)

Wolfe realized he should have waited until
morning to make this trip, but he wished to arrive, spend the night
in Alexandria, and after a brief tour, continue on in the morning
to other urgent appointments, two of which were scheduled before
noon in Cairo.

Because of the earthquake, Wolfe could
hardly avoid including Alexandria in his itinerary; however, his
primary concern was public relations for the Nucore investments in
Cairo, Luxor, and other sites along the Nile. The truth was, much
of what Nucore funded in Egypt was pure research. The DNA taken
from mummies found these days was for discovering commonalities and
differences among the various people being exhumed. Most of the
truly famous mummies were either in the Cairo Museum or in the
British Museum, and the DNA from those had required no large outlay
of funds to obtain.

For the most part, however, Nucore was not
offering these notables for blending. Too little was known about
their actual lives and personalities, even the details of their
reigns. As rampant as incest had been among the pharaohs, so, too,
could be the aberrations and anomalies resulting from such
misbegotten unions, whatever the cultural belief about it might
be.

So he was surprised that the secrecy
surrounding the blending process had been breached. Protesters
barricaded some of the sites and were said to be picketing the
entrance to the Cairo Museum. Archaeologists had had their hotel
rooms vandalized and had been pelted with rocks in the streets.
Nucore property was stolen or destroyed.

All of this he explained to Gabriella Faruk
on their way to Alexandria. The answer to where the security leak
originated was immediately apparent when the police cars, their
amber and blue lights swirling, met the plane at the Nucore strip
and Mahmoud Namid and the police attempted to arrest Leda Hubbard
before she could leave the country. The airstrip, by trade
agreement, was actually beyond the jurisdiction of the Egyptian
police, but they were in such an angry mood that Gabriella
cautioned Wolfe against saying so. Failing to apprehend Leda, Namid
had the audacity to tell the police to arrest Wolfe himself and
Gabriella.

It seemed that the real problem had been
that Leda, upon personally discovering a canopic jar believed to
have contained remains of no less a personage than the great Queen
Cleopatra, had declined to share her discovery with other members
of the team investigating the harbor site. When the earthquake
destroyed the Nucore laboratory housing Leda's work, the canopic
jar and Leda both disappeared in the flood. Namid, it seemed, would
have been happier if Leda had drowned in the subsequent flooding
resulting from the rupture of the dam.

And Namid therefore decided that information
he had obtained about Nucore's blending activities should be made
known to the Egyptian people.

Gabriella explained some of this in a low
murmur as she translated; the rest Wolfe was able to glean from
Namid's own accusations.

Fortunately, the police did not share
Namid's indignation and were quite receptive to Gabriella's protest
that Mr. Wolfe had come to Alex to aid in the relief effort. He was
here, she said, to take inventory personally of the needs of the
city's residents in order to determine what supplies and personnel
might be sent next to ease the city's suffering.

Part of easing that suffering would
naturally fall to the police force, and for that, Mr. Wolfe could
see that while they made a valiant effort to cover the city, here
they were, still working by candlelight and kerosene lantern. When
the power grid went down, shouldn't the police be among the first
to have their electricity restored? But they were understaffed,
overworked, and lacking in much of the equipment and many of the
vehicles they should have to enable them to perform their duties.
Mr. Wolfe would personally see to it that these lacks were
redressed.

The young woman had risen from her stupor to
meet the occasion. She handled the police magnificently: sincere,
concerned, charming but not flirtatious, diffident but distant,
striking just the right note with the weary officer on duty. The
candlelit police desk smoothed the shadows from her face but cast
those from her movements dramatically against the wall, a
silhouette puppet play enhancing her arguments and lending her
gestures extra emphasis and grace. In the end, the charges were
deemed unworthy of police attention in a time of such crisis. The
officer in charge sternly warned Namid to refrain from causing more
trouble than already afflicted the city.

The officer even apologized for not having a
car available to deliver Mr. Wolfe to his flat. Gabriella once more
came through, however, punching in a number, and after a brief
conversation, turning to him, smiling. "My cousin Mohammed drives a
taxi. He will come for us."

"Excellent," Wolfe agreed. The taxi was
there a short time later, and they stepped from the police station
entrance into the cab. Wolfe caught only a glimpse of the homeless
roaming the streets, the small cooking fires set up on sidewalks
for an evening meal. In the next block, outlined against the sea,
he saw the moonlit silhouettes of people wandering through the
ruins of buildings, looting or perhaps looking for lost
belongings—or lost relatives—in the rubble.

Mohammed and Gabriella cried out with relief
to see each other and spoke excitedly in Arabic for a few moments
before Gabriella said, "But we are being very rude. Excuse my
cousin and me, please, Mr. Wolfe. Where is it you wish to go?"

"I have a flat at the Cecil," he told them,
thinking happily of his airy room with the large tub and the full
business capability, which of course wouldn't be available now,
with the power out.

Neither, it seemed, was the room.

"I am so sorry, sir, but the Cecil was much
damaged by the quake and the flooding. It is closed."

"Oh," Wolfe said. "Well, then, can you
recommend a good hotel that escaped damage?"

"Alas, sir, no. They are all on the water,
you see, and that is where the worst damage occurred."

"You must come back to the villa and be our
guest, Mr. Wolfe," Gabriella said. "Our place is on the lakeshore
rather than the seashore, and Mohammed just told me that except for
the collapse of one exterior wall, which unfortunately has injured
one of my aunts, it has sustained little damage. My aunts are
rather traditional and completely capable of running a comfortable
household without power, are excellent cooks, and we have extra
rooms for the fluctuating number of guests we entertain. Do say you
will stay with us. It would be such an honor. And Mohammed could
drive you around while you are here or take you to the airstrip
when you wish to leave."

"I have two appointments in Cairo in the
morning," Wolfe said.

"No bother, sir, I will help you meet them,"
Mohammed said.

"And I, too, will help however I can,"
Gabriella said sweetly. "Only first I must check on my aunt and see
what can be done to repair the villa."

"You've been great help already, Dr. Faruk,"
Wolfe said."But if you'll pardon me for saying so, you appear
exhausted. I would not like to bother you for anything further
until you have had sufficient rest."

She gave him a weary smile. "You are too
kind," she said.

Mohammed carried Wolfe's bag inside the
villa, which was indeed well ordered and pleasant, with a fine
breeze in the courtyard and a faint scent of sandalwood and
patchouli wafting through the halls. Wolfe smiled. In his
university days, he would have believed the incense was there to
cover up the smell of marijuana smoking, but the scents were not
unusual ones here and covered a variety of other common and less
inviting odors.

Gabriella greeted some veiled women with
hugs and much chattering, and a short time later, a small meal of
couscous and fish was provided, with fruit for afters. Gabriella
looked as if she were about to fall into her food, and Wolfe ate
quickly and said that he, too, was tired and wished to sleep.

His room was dark and cool with a veil of
fine white mosquito netting over the bed, a chair and a table where
Mohammed set the candle he carried to light their way. "Sleep well,
sir. Tomorrow you can be useful," he said. Was it the candle that
gave his smile a sinister cast? For some reason, Wolfe half
expected to hear a key turn in the lock when the man closed the
door behind him. What he heard instead was a light knock a few
moments later and a soft, "Mr. Wolfe? Are you still awake?"

"Yes," he said and at first thought to
invite her in, then remembered that this was a Muslim household and
to do so would compromise his hostess. He walked to the door and
opened it.

"We have learned that the hospital where my
aunt was taken had a section collapse and is being evacuated. I
thought if you wished to follow through on the promises I made on
your behalf for Alex, you might like to come and see the
damage."

"An excellent idea," he said. "Although you
yourself look very tired."

"I am, but we will just see how she is doing
and perhaps we may be able to bring her back here. In the meantime,
you may be able to assess what Nucore can do to assist."

CHAPTER 24

You are to be my
afterlife,
Cleopatra said.

It doesn’t
really work that way,
Leda
told her.
We have to share me. And I, Leda,
have first dibs. You do realize I didn't do this because I was
impressed by your celebrity or title.

You are thwarting enemies. I understand that
very well. Therefore, quiet yourself and listen.

It doesn't work that way, either. We 're
asleep. We should be melding our personalities and memories to some
extent.

This we assuredly must do,
but for now, vigilance will save us. I represent the
ba
of she who was
Cleopatra, but you, Leda, possess a
ba
you may send abroad to listen to
those who plot against us.

I'm not sure I can do that.

I was the embodiment of
Isis, and as such, I learned a trick or two that allowed me to foil
the plots of my enemies. Allow me guide us both,
the voice in her mind said, and her spirit seemed
to slip from her body with the ease of her body slipping from
between satin sheets.

The body was lying on top of satin sheets,
actually, red ones, on Rasmussen's own large bed, in a
racquetball-court-sized stateroom. The bed featured sleek
electronic controls for raising and lowering head and feet, like a
hospital bed, if hospital beds were created by Italian interior
designers. Behind it stood a hollow marble column, inside of which
was an oxygen tank.

Set in an island of red,
blue, and turquoise tiles Leda was pretty sure had once adorned an
ancient mosque, was a sunken black marble Jacuzzi tub the size of
her entire bathroom. Jets studded the surface of the tub at all
levels and angles like mini-portholes. Another remote control
similar to the one for the bed lay atop a pile of towels that were
red plush, monogrammed
CR
and voluminous enough to make a sarong for a
hippopotamus. Tiered steps led down to the tub's center, which
featured a mosaic of water sprites.

A private
amphitheatre!
Cleopatra
exclaimed.

More like a royal
bath,
Leda corrected. Otherwise, there was
a vast closet, and adjacent to the tub, a more conventional
bathroom with one surprising feature, which was a connecting
door.

From the other side of it
came voices. The
ba
followed the sound into a compact but well-equipped
laboratory/ clinic.

Respirator
—
one
of the new kind that allows the patient to stay awake and talk
while it's in use
—
defibrillator, monitor . . .
Leda
noted the items in the room with extra emphasis and a mental
picture of their function.

The contessa; Rasmussen; the three flunkies
Rasmussen had brought with him to Alex, now clad in Nucore security
uniforms; and another man faced Chimera. A girl with a blond
ponytail and glasses tried to look as inconspicuous as possible,
and Leda thought this must be Madelaine.

"Dr. Chimera, this is my personal physician,
Dr. Abdel Singer. During our voyage, you will instruct Dr. Singer
on your process, or rather, on the variation of it I wish
performed."

"You still wish to have your own pattern
blended with that of other living persons?" Chimera asked. "We
recall that this was the desire you stated when you were
interviewed for the blending. At that time, you said it was to
ensure that someone who would carry out your wishes for its use
would inherit your empire. You have decided on a recipient?"

"Why limit myself to one? There's plenty of
me to go around, after all! I have several initial candidates in
mind. One of whom is the contessa's niece. I adore spirited women,
don't I, my dear?"

Oh, Lord,
the
ba
said.
Who's been watching too many old
macho movies? That is such a corny line.

"One would think that if you wish to make
sure your will is done, you would choose someone compliant,"
Chimera remarked.

"I prefer to see just how compliant I can
render those who present more of a challenge, even a battle.
Bending a will to my own in the most profound possible sense seems
to me to be a better, nobler goal even than making sure my fortune
is spent as I wish."

The valiant little figure of Chimera shook a
head of straight black hair and tried to explain once more that a
blending was not a contest of wills; one personality should
complement the other.