Journey Through the Mirrors (11 page)

—THE CHRONICLES OF SATRAYA

OVER THE PACIFIC OCEAN, 7:40 P.M. LOCAL TIME, MARCH 20, 2070

Madu Shata looked out the airplane window at the Pacific Ocean far below him. The sun was setting, and the brightest of the stars were beginning to appear in the dusky sky. The cabin lights had been dimmed, and his attention was drawn to his reflection in the window. He thought about the puzzle whose solution had eluded him since the day he’d found an original set of
The Chronicles of Satraya
. Even though so much time had passed, he was still obsessed with learning the secret of the pyramids. He had hoped that the emergence of Logan Ford and his old friend Robert Tilbo would shed some light or offer a fruitful new direction for his search. Destiny, he thought, had forsaken him; it seemed to be the principle that ruled his existence. He leaned back in his seat and thought about that pivotal day, forty years ago, that had determined the course of his life and about the events leading up to it.

The Great Disruption ravaged northern Egypt. Earthquakes turned the famously picturesque Mediterranean Sea into a raging cauldron of
water that flooded the coast as far south as Banha. People fortunate enough to survive the flooding, the earthquakes, their aftershocks, and tsunamis migrated south to Cairo, their last bastion of hope. While the city might have been spared the flooding, it was not spared the earthquakes or the climate changes that came with the earth’s shifting four degree on its axis. Now there was rain in the deserts and drought in the rain forests.

As refugees from the north arrived in Cairo, they found a city riven by civil war. Within six months, Cairo had been divided into twelve sections called nomes, each run by its own ruthless Khufu. These twelve tyrants and their militias fought one another house to house and street to street, staking out their territory. With the city’s police force disbanded and the Egyptian military in disarray, the Khufus were left unchecked, and their bloody battles continued.

By the spring of 2028, a tentative and fragile peace accord was forged among the twelve leaders, more out of necessity than desire. None of them wanted to rule an empty kingdom. More people had died in Cairo at the hands of the Khufus than in the natural disasters. Stone walls and fences were erected around each of the twelve nomes of Cairo, which were named after regions of post-Ptolemaic Egypt: Khent-abt, Kha, Ahment, Ati, Tehut, Am-Pehu, Sopdu, Khensu, Ka-khem, Theb-ka, Semabehdet, and Sap-Meh. Armed guards stood at the gates of the adjoining nomes. Without the proper paperwork, citizens of one nome could not pass into another. Once a person was branded on his right arm with the insignia of the nome in which he lived, that was where he stayed. If a person was caught trying to jump the borders, he was taken to the local Khufu to face justice. The penalty for most crimes and violations was public execution.

The edicts of the Khufus were carried out by their armed guards, the Medjay, who drove around Cairo in Jeeps, the only motor vehicles permitted in the city. Many of the Medjay had broken out of the Tora Mazraa prison and were more than happy to support the Khufus, who provided them with food and shelter that was not only better than
what they’d had in prison but far superior to what the people of Cairo subsisted on.

A meager amount of food and other essential supplies were dispensed to Cairenes each day at a central location in every nome. People were not permitted to cultivate their own gardens or raise livestock.

One hour of electricity was provided each day by the nome of Ati, which was ruled by Khufu Kesi Sefu Khalfani. How Khufu Khalfani came to possess the large generators and the fuel to power them was unknown, but his possession of them made him the most powerful of all the Khufus.

Water was the only resource the Khufus did not completely control. Even after the Great Disruption, the northern-flowing Nile River’s two major sources, the Blue Nile and the White Nile, continued to bring fresh water to the nomes. People could have as much as they were willing to carry home. But most preferred to use the dispensing stations, where, during the one hour of daily electric service, water was pumped into numerous reservoir pools located throughout the nomes. Citizens also created cisterns to collect the runoff water from rainstorms, which were frequent now because of the change in climate.

The only relief the Cairenes had from their hard, dreary lives was the Summer Jubilee, a seven-day celebration of the twelve Khufus’ leadership. During the Jubilee, the guards at the gates of the nomes left their posts, and citizens could move freely throughout the city. Extended families separated all year were reunited for one precious week. But even during the Summer Jubilee celebrations, the Khufus kept close watch. The Medjay would discard their uniforms and dress as ordinary people so they could more easily blend into the crowds, where they would listen for any criticism of the Khufus. All Cairenes were required to attend the Jubilee’s organized events at the stadium and the fairgrounds near the three Giza pyramids on the outskirts of Cairo. Failure to attend was punishable by death.

Madu recalled the soccer match of the 2029 Jubilee, when his life changed forever. He sat next to his grandfather and cheered for their
home team from Tehut, which was playing the team from Ati, the most hated of the nomes because it controlled the city’s electrical grid. His childhood friend Amun, whom he was only able to see during the yearly celebration, sat on his other side. Before the Great Disruption, both Madu and Amun attended the engineering school at Cairo University. Madu studied electrical engineering, while Amun pursued a degree in mechanical design. Both had recently celebrated their twenty-fourth birthdays, milestones that, before the rise of the Khufus, they had always celebrated together with their families and friends.

“Who are you looking at?” Amun asked.

“Does that girl look familiar to you?” Madu whispered. “A row ahead of us and a little to the left. She is wearing a gold dress with a wesekh necklace.” Amun looked closer and shook his head. Madu asked his grandfather the same question, but he didn’t recognize her, either. “I’m certain I’ve seen her before,” Madu said, frustrated that he couldn’t place where.

“She is pretty,” Amun said. “And you are ugly. Therefore, I should be the one who speaks to her.”

“I need to get a better look at her face,” Madu said, losing interest in the soccer match. “There is something about her.”

Madu decided to catch the girl’s attention by letting out an excruciatingly loud cheer anytime his team advanced on the field or scored. But that didn’t work. Then he decided to heckle even more loudly anytime the team from Ati fumbled. That worked better, anyway, as the young woman and her friends would turn from time to time to see where the ruckus was coming from. Madu acted as if he was intently focused on the match, but he was actually stealing glances at the girl, trying to figure out where he had seen her before.

“I don’t think that girl and her friends are very happy with you,” Amun said. “I think you’re beginning to annoy them. Probably best to stop now.”

“It is Jubilee, and I am only voicing support for our team,” Madu answered. “I have to find out who she is.” He leaned far to his left to get
a better view of the girl. Amun grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him upright.

“Listen to Amun,” Madu’s grandfather said, giving his grandson a look of warning. “Mind her tattoos.” They were on the girl’s right arm. Unlike the rest of the citizenry, who were branded with the insignia of their nomes, members of the Khufus’ families or those under their protection received customized ink tattoos. “She is from Ati and bears the mark of Khufu Khalfani. Stay clear of her, Madu. She is the Khufu’s property or a member of his family. She has the authority to bring the wrath of the Khufus upon us.”

Amun hit Madu in the arm and gestured for him to look at the two men flanking the young woman. They were unusually muscular and had the bearing of Medjay guards. Madu’s grandfather was correct; the girl was someone of importance. Madu had no desire to draw the attention of any of the Khufus—that would be asking for it. It had happened before, and Madu was not going to repeat that experience. He remained quiet for the rest of match, which ended with the team from Ati taking the day.

Madu stood, and as he helped his grandfather to his feet, Amun urgently whispered, “She’s looking at you!”

Madu turned. The young girl was indeed looking at him. Her expression indicated that he looked familiar to her, too, though she couldn’t place him. They stared at each other some moments, and then Madu saw the young woman’s eyes widen as if she had solved the mystery. Her eyes darted to Madu’s grandfather and then back to Madu. She pointed to her right arm, signaling that she wanted to know which nome Madu was from. Without hesitating, Madu raised his arm to show her. He immediately saw an expression of dread come over her face. She broke eye contact and hurried away with her escort, leaving Madu to wonder where a member of Khufu Khalfani’s circle and he would have crossed paths.

The firing of a shell from an Abram tank announced the final event of the Summer Jubilee, an event that no one but the Khufus enjoyed.
Armed Medjay began herding the crowd out of the soccer stadium toward the Menkaure Pyramid. The Khufus and their advisers were seated on a podium fifty meters away from the base of the ancient structure. The next and last event served as a warning to the people of Cairo:
This is what will happen to you if you challenge our authority.

“Let us leave,” Madu’s grandfather said, as they exited the stands. “I will not watch another one of these abominable shows.”

“They will not let us leave,” Amun said. Everyone was required to watch the Pyramid Run. “The guards will force us to stay and watch.”

“I know a way.” Madu’s grandfather pulled a package of cigarettes from his pocket and flashed it at Madu and Amun. “Follow me.”

Another shell was fired, and Medjay guards fanned out at the base of the Menkaure Pyramid, while Madu, his grandfather, and Amun made their way to the southernmost gate. When Madu’s grandfather presented two packages of cigarettes to the guard stationed there, the three of them were allowed to pass from the Giza Plateau and walk north to Al Ahram Road.

“I must leave you,” Amun said sadly.

“Until next year, my friend.” Madu hugged him, and Amun headed down another road to the nome of Semabehdet.

“Life cannot continue this way,” Madu’s grandfather said, shaking his head defiantly. “What kind of life is it to have seven days of freedom for each year of captivity? Something must be done.”

A series of gunshots rang out from the direction of the pyramids. “You mustn’t say things like that in public,” Madu said, looking around to see if anyone might have heard him. “Don’t you remember what happened?”

“Of course, I remember,” Madu’s grandfather said solemnly, looking down as he and Madu walked home. “They tried to do what needed to be done for the people. For Egypt!”

“Yes, but they failed and lost their lives because of it.” Madu put his arm around his grandfather’s shoulders. “I told them it was too soon. The day I learned of their plan, I told them to wait; the Khufus had
just brokered the peace agreement. In time, that accord will weaken and fall apart. That will be a more opportune moment to strike. But as it was, they should have known. They even chose to strike the most heavily guarded of targets, the power plant. Khalfani guards it with eighteen of his best Medjay. It was not the right time or place.”

“But how long will the people have to wait before they reclaim their freedom?” Madu’s grandfather asked. “I do not believe that the Great Disruption removed us from the clutches of one group of tyrants only to land us with worse. Why would Neter do that?”

“Grandfather,” Madu said, “you might be the only man on earth who believes that the Great Disruption was brought on by the hand of God.”

“Who else could it have been?” his grandfather asked. “Who would have provided the world with such a golden opportunity to start over? No, it was Neter, acting out of compassion, who provided that opportunity. And look how we have squandered it! Our people, who fought hard to claim their freedom before the Great Disruption, turned weak when the Khufus arrived. They didn’t fight.”

The two men made the rest of their two-mile trek home to Tehut in silence. By the time they entered their small house, the sun had set. There would be no electricity until sometime the next day. They went to their beds knowing that when the sun rose, the struggle of life would start again. As on countless other nights over the past two years, Madu had trouble falling asleep. But this time, it wasn’t because of his thin, well-worn mattress or the clamoring of noisy neighbors. Tonight his mind was racing with thoughts of the young woman he had seen at the soccer match.
Who was she, and why did she seem to recognize me?

Madu was awakened the next morning by the grinding sound of the water pumps. He dressed quickly and grabbed two pails. He needed to get to the dispensing station while the water was still flowing. Otherwise, he would have to risk walking to the river to get their supply of water. Bored teens congregated on the river road and amused themselves by throwing rocks at people carrying water back from the river,
trying to make them spill it. When Madu arrived at the station, the line was long, and fights had already broken out. Two Medjay guards stood nearby, doing nothing to restore order. Madu could see he would get no water from the station today. His only choice was the river.

As he approached the Nile, he saw the banks were relatively empty. Only a few other people were filling pails. He took off his shoes, rolled up his pants, and walked into the water, holding his dented pails. The Medjay were patrolling the river in boats, looking for anyone who might be trying to move illegally between the nomes. Madu stood for a moment, enjoying the sensation of the cool water on his legs. A kilometer to the south, he could see the electrical generators of Ati. His parents had died because of those generators. He wondered for a moment what life would have been like if they had succeeded in carrying out their plan.