Giza Complex, Unfinished Pyramid of Thutmose III
Malik was the first to wake up. Nathan awoke a few minutes later from a delirious dream. Two or three torches around the room sputtered with their last flames.
“We should pray,” Malik said through cracked lips. “We should pray for a quick, painless death.”
“No my friend, we should ask God to somehow deliver us from that evil monster.” Nathan tried to sit up but he didn’t have the strength. “If God can send a deliverer to free an entire nation of Israelites, then He can free two miserable creatures like us.” He prayed for both of them before he drifted into a mercifully calm sleep.
The noise of men returning to the main chamber brought the two back to consciousness.
“What have we here?” Imani said when he found the bent shapes in the middle of the room. Gobe, who had joined the group along with four stocky workmen, dragged the two back to where they had been leaning against a column and dropped them to the floor like sacks of grain.
Bakenmut pointed the four workmen who carried wooden rollers and coils of ropes to the golden cylinder. He ignored the prisoners for the moment and looked around the dim chamber.
“When I was here last, Imhotep energized those glass globes in the ceiling with some sort of light. I think the source was in that room.” He pointed to a door in the distance. “Imani and Thethi, go figure out how to make them work.”
Within minutes, the objects in the ceiling gave off a soft hum and a golden glow. They gradually became brighter until they illuminated the entire pyramid vault. A mellow hum from the back room was accompanied by a similar, though higher pitched, yet pleasant purr from the golden cylinder.
The cylinder’s intricate and elegant engraving still captivated their attention when they gathered around the center of the room. The amount of gold in this one object was staggering.
“This treasure will be my ultimate prize,” Bakenmut announced. His accomplices lusted after even a small piece of the golden cylinder.
“Imani, how are we going to tip this thing over without damaging it? I don’t want to mar the carvings or chip it.”
The architect stepped to within an arm’s length of the gold and peered at the tubes that exited from its top and disappeared into the high ceiling above. The instant he touched the golden surface he jerked his hand back in surprise.
“That thing’s alive! I felt it buzz up my arm!”
“It’s making the sound of a thousand bees,” Thethi observed. “And it’s becoming louder. The sound is coming from inside the gold!”
The humming of the gold so fascinated him that Imani moved closer to touch it again. A blue glow that highlighted the deeply etched characters on the surface looked inviting. He timidly reached out again and the blue glow enveloped his fingers. A sharp “Crack!” reverberated against the stone walls and he flew back onto the floor. Imani climbed to his feet on shaky legs. His fingers and hand were numb. It was not a pleasant sensation.
Malik and Nathan watched their tormentor warily. He was focusing more on his gold than on them which suited them fine. Nathan stifled a cry when he felt something furry brush his bare arms bound behind him. He strained to look but his stiff neck wouldn’t cooperate. He felt it again. A soft squeaking sound made no sense until he realized that whoever, or whatever, it was was trying to untie his wrists.
Tiny hands worked on the knots for several minutes before giving up. He then felt something moist against his wrist accompanied by a gnawing sound. His hands were loose! Nathan flexed his fingers and wrists behind him without giving his freedom away in case Bakenmut looked in his direction. The bewildered look on Malik’s face matched his own.
“Don’t say anything,” Nathan whispered through clenched teeth.
He then saw that Malik’s hands were free too. A small, chocolate face peaked over Malik’s shoulder.
It was Tik-tik! The appearance of the trained monkey meant that Imhotep must be nearby.
To their bewilderment, the monkey swung up onto a statue of an oversized armored figure and let out a blood-chilling screech to get their captor’s attention. Bakenmut jumped at the inhuman scream. His wide eyes followed the agile monkey as it ran across the room where he screeched again before hopping into the room with the black energy box.
“Stupid monkey!” he muttered. He turned his attention back to examining the inscription on the gold cylinder.
Malik and Nathan exchanged satisfied grins. A few minutes later they heard a deep rumble. Bakenmut’s head swung around to find the source of the roar. He ran into the room that led to the mastaba tunnel at the same moment that a cloud of dust blew out the door, blinding him.
“Quick, untie your feet.” Malik and Nathan groped at their knots with aching fingers urged on by a rush of adrenaline. When the ropes came loose, they tried to stand but had no strength in their legs.
“I think Tik-tik triggered a cave-in. Remember Imhotep said to be careful of booby traps?” Nathan said. The deep roar of the mastaba tunnel collapse still reverberated around the room and they no longer needed to whisper.
Malik crawled on his knees toward the cylinder. Blue light filtered through the dusty haze and enveloped the object. It was past its initial humming and buzzing; it now filled the room with a high-pitched, piercing howl. About five feet away from the cylinder, Malik’s hair stood straight out from his head and he felt a fascinating, tingling sensation.