Gene of Isis

a long-sleeved white shirt. ‘I shouldn’t be too long.’ I didn’t look back to catch his reaction, but threw a scarf over my head, wrapped the ends around my shoulders and braved the gale outside.

Even though it was not far to the temple complex, Andre drove us there in his cherished Humvee, which went everywhere with him. He’d scored this oversized, black, super-tough, soft-top jeep when he’d done some excavation work for the American military, and their gift to him had ensured that, to this day, he never spoke of what the project with the US military had entailed.

‘Alone at last,’ Andre announced, as we completed our dash through the Main Court, the Sanctuary, the Portico and into the shelter of the Cave of Hathor.

‘Alone is right.’ I avoided his implication. ‘The storm must be keeping the tourists away.’

‘Oui. The tours won’t come up here in these conditions. So,’ he indicated the shrine in which we stood, throwing his arms wide, ‘what do you think?’

This cave had been carved into the natural rock, and had flat inner walls that had somehow been rubbed smooth. In the centre was a large upright pillar of Amenemhet III.

‘It must have been magnificent,’ I mumbled, and recalled the words of the man who’d uncovered the whole of the Hathor complex in 1906. ‘There is no other such monument known that makes us regret more that it is not in better preservation.’

‘Well, the place was buried and lost to the world for about three thousand years,’ Andre remarked.

Not entirely, I considered on the quiet—for Albray had been here in the thirteenth century and Lord Hamilton’s largely ignored work had brought him here in the early nineteenth century.

The sands of time had taken their toll on what must once have been an imposing and majestic structure. And yet, the walls still had many tales to tell. I moved closer and pulled out a notebook and pen. It seemed highly likely that this temple would hold clues to opening the mysterious entrance we’d uncovered—or hint at what we might expect to find therein. ‘It states here that the main function of the temple masters was the production of mfkzt.’

‘Oui,’ Andre confirmed. ‘There seems to be a dispute as to what that actually was. Some think copper or malachite, but as this mountain is riddled with turquoise mines we were told that turquoise is the most likely possibility. And the goddess Hathor is known as the mistress of turquoise.’

‘As was Isis,’ I added, ‘but only if the word mfkzt has not been mistranslated. Petrie didn’t uncover turquoise at the site, only our strange white powder.’ I stepped back to consider the entire wall. ‘The numerous mentions of light and bread in these hieroglyphs suggest “our Bread of Life” seems more on the mark. Hathor was also renowned as “the mother of light”. Ra may have been the sun, but Hathor was the divine power behind the great solar deity.’

This went back to what Albray had been saying about kings only being awakened by their queens, for the females carried the power of the gods and men could only hope to absorb that power via a good marriage. Perhaps this was why women were bound to be made happy by the love they gave, and men by the love they received.

‘Hathor was also a protector of women…’ Andre added.

Granting females the power to awaken a superhuman ability was certainly a way of ensuring their survival and the respect of men. I remembered the effect Ashlee Granville had had on Earnest Devere—he’d gone so far as to describe his love as an addiction!

‘Which probably explains why only a woman can open the door we’ve uncovered,’ Andre finished his thought.

‘So, let us suppose,’ I hypothesised, ‘that the priests did manufacture the manna or ORME here—’

‘To what end?’ Andre played devil’s advocate. ‘To open the lower entrance we’ve uncovered?’

‘To manufacture superior building materials to make such a structure, perhaps?’ I raised my eyebrows, intrigued by the idea. ‘They would certainly have used such a substance to enlighten their priest-kings and priestess-queens…’

In my mind’s eye I saw a vision of how this place had appeared at the height of its glory. This had been a structure so grand as to rival any ancient temple of the period. Desperately clinging to my unique ancient perspective, I turned to view the undamaged altar and column and the unweathered text that lined everything herein. Beyond the one entrance into the Cave of Hathor, I beheld the closed-in Portico and through another grand doorway sunlight fell onto the paved floor of the Sanctuary of the Goddess that was open to the sky.

I blinked and snapped out of my trance. It wasn’t like me to vague out like that and my imagination usually left a lot to be desired. ‘They could have used the substance to heal their sick.’ I resumed my contemplation of the true purpose of this place. ‘They could probably nurture the earth and enhance their produce, and any number of things I cannot even conceive of. It certainly explains why Moses might have led his people here. There’s a whole new slant on the golden calf incident, as Hathor was sometimes represented as a cow, and manna has also been called alchemist’s gold.’ I smiled, as I thought that Lord Hereford was probably right in assuming that this truly was the mountain of Moses.

Which reminded me—I had yet to read Lord Hamilton’s account, and that might prove mighty insightful at this stage. After all, he had opened our mysterious door…how else could he have the Star vial in his possession? I made a mental note to scan through Hamilton’s journal upon returning to my tent.

I ceased my wondering and looked at Andre, who was smiling amiably at me.

‘Your mind is an amazing place, Mia Montrose.’ He moved to approach me, when his beeper went off. ‘The gods really hate me!’ He grabbed his pager from his belt to read the message. ‘It’s Molier. I’ll have to head back down to camp to call him. Do you want to stay a while? I can come back for you.’

All alone in an ancient Egyptian temple? Hell, yes. ‘That would be great, Andre. Merci.’

In Andre’s absence I got some work done. I’d discovered what I suspected to be the quantities of asena, acacia and mfkzt (manna?), needed to make the Star vial substance. The names of the ingredients had all been chiselled away, so I was not sure which quantity belonged to which substance in the sacred brew.

I was so engrossed, I didn’t look up when I heard Andre return. ‘I think I’ve found the formula.’

When an enthusiastic response was not forthcoming, I looked up to find Akbar and wished I could have prevented my gasp of shock. ‘Akbar, you startled me.’ I stood up to address him, as he was some distance away. ‘Did Andre send you to fetch me?’