Jane Unwrapped

The Book of the Dead

Anubis

Awakening. A strange feeling stirs through my body and pulls on my fur. I open my heavy eyes.

The feeling creeps through me, choking and taunting. Somewhere, a mummy is being created...but something's gone wrong. Slowly, I stretch my paws and draw in the twisted scent. To find its source, I must leave the world of the dead and journey to the mortal land.

I stand and great waves of sand cascade off me. I look around at the purple fog that leeches through my underworld. It is time to leave the Duat for the living.

I follow the strange scent into the mortal land, across the vast sea, into the far north, where moist trees curl their way through concrete palaces.

Before me lies a building of iron and chemicals and white light. The feeling is strong here. I drift through long halls to a small room. Even if one of the mortals were to walk by, they could not see me. Here, no one believes.

I change my shape. This place is built for man, not animal, and I want to see more than legs and low cupboards. On the walls hang bland English letters with complex calculations explaining things I know upon feeling. Dark mirrors steadily hum.

What could possibly require my attention here?

Whispers drift out of a corner of the room. I turn to see a young man sitting on a chair, knees pulled up, curled over a book. His words strike me in my chest. Everything in this place is foreign but those words are timeless and sacred and all I really know.

"Thou shalt come forth into paradise, thou shalt pass over the sky, thou shalt be joined unto the starry deities."

"Honestly, Jonesy," an old man calls out. He is haggard, a white coat hung on thin and pointy bones.

"I brought you here for forensic DNA analysis," the old man continues, "not to ramble on about some mythology class you took."

"I actually have a minor in ancient Egyptian mythology and culture, Dr. Giles. Another reason I'm so interested in this project." The young man, Jonesy, places the book down and walks over to the blinking mirror.

I gaze at the book the man left behind: The Book of the Dead: An English Translation. A growl rises in my throat. I've seen the words countless times, but not like this. An insulting imitation. Those precious words should be inked carefully on papyrus, placed with the dead to guide them.

And yes, I can feel it clearly now. There is death in this place.

"This is extraordinary," Jonesy says. "We're recreating an art form thousands of years old. We're like modern-day priests of Anubis, summoning the very presence of Egypt."

What a fool—this is a mockery of me, not a tribute! They have brought only death, with the imitation of something sacred.

"Yes, yes, but I've got enough of a headache without you going off about nonsense. Come on, let's see how our project is coming."

I follow them through a metal door into a new room. The strange feeling that sought me out all the way in the Duat washes over me, for here lies its source. A body, an awakened soul.

I walk toward the body on a table—a young woman, naked, with a trail of stitches across her chest. Her lower abdomen is cut open, green plastic surrounding it for the scientists to reach inside with latex fingers. I grit my teeth. This is not how one is prepared for the journey to Osiris. If only this were Egypt, centuries ago, when I sat with the mortals as they died. I would washe her with water from the Nile, pack her skin carefully in natron. I would wrap her with white bandages to preserve her body, so she may walk and dance and breathe in the Field of Reeds, just as she had in the mortal world.

A smile breaks across Jonesy's face. "I can't believe we're doing this. We're about to create a mummy! A real mummy."

My hands tighten into fists. This is no mummy. This is an experiment.

I force myself to close my eyes, to concentrate on the girl's soul. Yes, she's in this room. Perhaps Jonesy awakened her with his carelessly muttered words, or perhaps it is just the beginning of the mummification itself.

I should leave. The dealings of mortals in a distant place are beyond my concern. It is for the best. A dead girl from this land has no place in Egypt's paradise.

Or...I can finish the prayer and guide her to the Field of Reeds.

I can give her breath.

I lean down to the girl and tear the ankh from around my neck, placing it on her bottom lip. Slowly, I part her lips, breathe into her mouth, and say:

"Let your mouth be opened, and loosen the bonds of Set.

I give you my hands, they are placed as guardians.

With that chisel of metal, with which I opened the first mouth of the gods.

Now, lost soul, you may breathe again."