“As it happens I can prove my identity,” Lysander replied loftily. “Because the baton on your lap once belonged to me.”
“So?” Kufu demanded skeptically. “That isn’t proof . . . It’s another claim.”
Emboldened by the nature of the situation, and certain that their liege was correct, the various generals, advisors, and other functionaries ranked behind Kufu offered their support via comments such as, “That’s right!” “She’s a fake!”
And, “Send them to the mines!”
But the commentary came to an abrupt halt when Kufu raised a bejeweled hand. “Silence! Answer, spirit, if you are one.”
“Raise the scepter,” Lysander instructed, “turn the knob on the end, and point the instrument at my pyramid.”
Kufu followed the instructions, and, once the baton was in the proper position, Lysander spoke again. “All right,”
the disincarnate said, “push on the emerald.”
The gemstone was not only large, but located in a position convenient to Kufu’s right thumb, so it was easy to push. The jewel gave slightly, a disk of bright red light appeared on the distant pyramid, and wobbled when Kufu’s hand moved.
There was a mutual gasp of surprise from the same people who had been making fun of Lysander just moments before. Even Rebo stared in amazement as the laser beam made contact with the distant object and slid back and forth across its surface. “I think you will fi?nd that the baton comes in handy during large battles,” the spirit entity commented. “Just point it at what you want your generals to attack and give the necessary orders.”
Kufu was not only impressed but convinced that he was in contact with Emperor Hios, since no one else was likely to be aware of the scepter’s secret. Still, there was the manner in which the threesome had arrived to consider. “You claim to have traveled here from Derius without riding on a starship. . . . How is that possible?”
“My channel and her companions made their way to Haafa via a temporary star gate,” Lysander answered honestly. “I suspect you of all people know that such technology exists.”
“I have heard of it,” Kufu replied cautiously. “And, based on what I’ve heard, a temporary gate would require something called a ‘gate seed.’ An object that would be worthless without the direct intervention of the ancient god Logos.”
“True,” Lysander admitted truthfully.
Norr, who had been relegated to the role of spectator, was not only surprised by the disincarnate’s admission but alarmed by it, since it appeared as though Lysander was prepared to surrender the AI to an overdressed tomb raider. The variant tried to say something, tried to object, but couldn’t because the man who had once been her father was still in control. “Examine their belongings!” Kufu ordered.
“Find the computer! And bring the machine to me.”
But even though all three of the off-worlders were forced to remove a good deal of their clothing, none of Kufu’s guards or functionaries recognized the nondescript-looking jacket for what it truly was. The king was clearly frustrated.
“If you don’t have Logos, where is he?”
“Back on Derius,” Lysander lied, “where he chooses to live in anonymity. I was able to solicit his help because I was among those who originally gave him life.”
“What you say makes sense,” Kufu admitted grudgingly.
“But why send your channel to Haafa? What do you seek?”
“I want my remains,” the dead scientist prevaricated.
“It’s my hope that the channel and her bodyguards will fi?nd an opportunity to enter my pyramid, locate my body, and remove it to a safer location. That may seem silly to you, but I feel a connection to that particular vehicle, and it’s only a matter of time before someone fi?nds a way to pillage my tomb.”
Thousands of lives had been expended trying to fi?nd a way into the fl?oating pyramids without success. So, if the dead emperor was willing to reveal the secret of how to enter one of the monuments, then Kufu planned to profi?t from it. What a coup that would be! the king thought to himself, as he raised a permissive hand. “I will do everything in my power to support your noble endeavor,” the king intoned.
“Guards! Release those people—and return their belongings. From this point forward they will be treated as honored guests.”
Lysander departed Norr’s body as suddenly as he had arrived. The sensitive staggered, recovered her balance, and looked out over the desert. Four fl?oating tombs could be seen shimmering in the distance—and one of them was hers.
Deep beneath the burning sands of the Segenni Desert lay the vast underground city of Kahoun, which, like the enormous tomb that it was, slumbered in absolute darkness. It occupied approximately 450 square miles of subsurface territory, and had been home to more than 3 million people back before the great plague killed most of them off. There were various theories regarding the origins of the highly transmittable disease. Some said it had been invented by rebel scientists and sent to Kahoun in a vain attempt to assassinate the much-hated Emperor Hios. Others claimed that a runner had contracted the plague on a distant planet, landed on Haafa, and unwittingly brought the pestilence with him. And because the alien pathogen was resistant to the antibacterial disinfectants available at that time, the disease had been free to spread. Whatever the truth, the result was the same. Thousands fell ill, and although sections of the city were quarantined, the plague continued to spread. Unable to leave Kahoun and desperate to save themselves, families, organizations, and entire neighborhoods constructed walls, air locks, and all manner of other obstacles intended to block the disease. But none of their efforts were successful, and what remained of Kahoun consisted of an intricate maze of tombs, crypts, and mausoleums, very few of which opened into each other. And that, plus the artifacts lying buried with the countless dead, had eventually given rise to the semifeudal, dog-eat-dog culture created by the artifact kings, who, like sentient vultures, had been feeding off the city’s corpse for hundreds of years.
