The Cult of Osiris

as my assistant, and when I established the Osirian Temple I made him a key part of it.’

‘How did you establish the Osirian Temple? Setting up a religion isn’t exactly something you can buy a Dummies’ Guide for.’

Osir chuckled. ‘I made a movie called Osiris and Set, eighteen years ago. I played Osiris; it was destined, I suppose! It was very successful - it even had a release, a small one, in America, which is very rare for Egyptian films. Because of it, I was for a time the biggest star in Egypt. Everyone knew me, everyone wanted to hear what I had to say . . . it was like being worshipped, just as I had been as Osiris in the movie.’ He regarded Nina knowingly, clinking the ice in his glass. ‘You’ve been famous - in a different way, but you know what it’s like. And how it is . . . addictive.’

‘I wouldn’t say that, exactly.’

A sly smile. ‘Oh, Nina. The first time you saw yourself on television, the first time you saw your own face on a magazine cover . . . wasn’t it a thrill? The world was watching you, listening to you. There is no feeling like it. And no one is immune to its siren song - not even a scientist. You can’t tell me that after having experienced those heights, you are happy to fall into obscurity.’

‘I wouldn’t mind, so long as it’s wealthy obscurity,’ Nina said, playing her role. But she reluctantly had to agree that he had a point.

Osir saw her doubt, and smiled again. ‘But as for me, I wanted more. Not just as an actor, or even as a star. I wanted to be loved,’ he thumped his heart, ‘here. To have people believe in me, follow me—’

‘Worship you?’

‘What can I say?’ He raised his hands in mock apology. ‘Yes, I wanted to be worshipped. So I quit acting, and founded the Osirian Temple - and, more quietly, also founded the company that would become OIG.’

‘Another gamble,’ said Nina.

‘The biggest of my life. I am a Muslim, after all,’ Nina noted that he used the present tense, ‘and to Islam’s more fundamentalist followers, who are unfortunately growing in strength in Egypt, apostasy is a crime that deserves death. I received my share of threats. Which was why I put Sebak in charge of protecting me, and the Osirian Temple as a whole. He is very good at his job.’

‘Maybe too good,’ Nina said. Shaban was now talking to Diamondback on the upper deck, a hand on his shoulder.

‘Again, I apologise. Events got out of control.’ Something on the screen caught his eye, and he jabbed at the button to unmute it. ‘Second fastest! We are on the front row!’ He looked back at Nina. ‘Yet more apologies, but this is extremely good news.’

‘That’s okay,’ she said, putting down the glass. ‘I need to take a quick break anyway.’ She headed into the ship to find another bathroom.

‘Where are you?’ Eddie said, answering the phone.

‘In Monaco,’ came Nina’s whispered reply. ‘I’m on his boat. Ship. Whatever the dividing line is. Where are you?’

‘On an autostrada in Italy.’ He was speeding, doing thirty over the 130 kilometre per hour limit, but this being Italy impatient locals were flashing past him.

‘Italy? What the hell are you doing there?’

‘It’s the fastest route to Monaco. I always wanted to go to the grand prix there, but this wasn’t how I planned . . . What about you? Have you seen the zodiac?’

‘Not yet. Osir’s people are still reassembling it; they won’t be done until tonight.’

‘Arse,’ he muttered. ‘I’d sort of hoped you’d got everything sussed by now.’ A thought struck him. ‘This boat, is it in the harbour,?’

‘No, it’s off the coast.’

‘Buggeration and fuckery! How’re you going to get off?’

‘Yeah, I was wondering that myself. But listen, Osir said he was going to a party at a casino this evening. I think he wants to take me along.’

‘A party? Do you know which casino?’

‘No, but it’s connected with his racing team, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find. Maybe you could hire a boat and follow us back to his ship. It’s called the Solar Barque - oh, crap, someone’s coming. Bye!’

‘Bye,’ said Eddie, but again not quickly enough to beat the click of disconnection.

‘Is she okay?’ Macy asked.

‘Yeah, but she’s on his bloody yacht, and somehow I don’t think there’ll be much chance of us finding a boat for hire the night before the biggest event of the year.’

‘What was that about a party?’

Eddie chuckled sarcastically. ‘You sound a bit keen. Why, you wanting to go?’

‘No. Well, I don’t know. What sort of party?’

‘For his grand prix team.’

Her face brightened. ‘Oh! Racing drivers? We should definitely go.’

‘It’s not going to be a social visit,’ he reminded her. ‘Besides, we’re hardly dressed for a flash do at some fancy casino.’ He nodded at his jeans, T-shirt and leather jacket, and her travel-crumpled shirt and khaki combat trousers.

She smiled and took out her credit card. ‘Dressing for a night in Monte Carlo? Priceless.’

15

For all the resort’s glamorous reputation, the majority of Monaco’s casinos are surprisingly mundane. While the image from many a movie - and the one the Tourist Office wants to present - is of tuxedos, diamonds and fortunes won on the turn of a card or the spin of a wheel, for the most part the reality is rank after rank of computerised slot machines. Like Las Vegas, Monaco has found that while high-rollers look attractive on the big screen, much more profit can be made from a steady flow of ordinary tourists with no clue about the intricacies of gambling and a hunger and thirst ready to be sated in the casinos’ own pricey restaurants and bars.

The principality’s newest establishment, however, had opted to hearken back to the idealised fantasy of the Riviera. The Casino d’Azur was a deliberate throwback to the days when being a member of the jet set was an exotic aspiration and not an everyday drudge of tiny meals and confiscated nail clippers. The slot machines were still present, but relatively discreetly, putting the more traditional gambling pursuits front and centre.

Nina looked round as she and Osir entered one of the casino’s main lounges. Though she had little interest in gambling beyond the occasional lotto ticket, she couldn’t help but be impressed by the architects’ efforts. The d’Azur was a rococo homage to the era when Monaco first became a draw for the rich and risk-inclined, and no expense had been spared in making it as authentic as possible, from the low-hanging crystal chandeliers to the darkly lacquered hardwood of the gaming tables. ‘Wow. This place looks amazing.’

‘As do you, Nina,’ said Osir. Despite herself, she felt her cheeks flush. On the one hand she felt silly and self- conscious, dressed in a blue silk evening gown with her hair styled in an elegant twist. On the other, she was being taken for a night out in Monaco, which was undeniably exciting . . . even if the company wasn’t to her taste. As well as several burly bodyguards, Osir’s entourage included Shaban and Diamondback, the latter having reluctantly donned a tie with his snakeskin jacket to meet the evening’s dress code.

‘Thank you,’ she said. Osir himself made a striking figure in a white tuxedo, the confident way he carried himself ensuring there would be absolutely no chance of his being mistaken for a waiter. He led her through the games to a side exit, a member of the casino staff recognising him and waving them through.

The doors led to a courtyard, one roped-off end opening on to Casino Square and the racing circuit. With qualifying over, the track had been re-opened to the public; part of the crash barrier had been removed to allow access to the casino. Nina glanced at the passing people in the hope of seeing Eddie, but there was no sign of him or Macy.

An earsplitting noise caught everyone’s attention. A sleek racing car in the green and gold livery of Team