The Iron Man [Serial]

Americans

The floor in the last narrow chamber of the Valley Temple sloped upwards.  At the top of the ramp, a stone causeway stretched across the Necropolis towards the central Pyramid. The Sphinx was below to my right, and back to the left, the tops of the angular temple columns.

Chief Custodio called up from the walk between the Sphinx and causeway with our donkeys. Speaking in Catalan, he said he'd lost sight of us within the temple. He asked if I knew where Mr. Houdin-Wight wished to visit. I said I would soon learn and we would rejoin him.

Hakim was speaking to David as I returned my attention to them.

"...was under the sand. The Sphinx up to its neck . They brought steam engines to dig and sift. The fine sands are bagged to make these walls." Hakim pointed to the barrier at the edge of the Sphinx's pit.  "The larger pieces go by wagon--everything with a label --to the Camp where they sort artifact from pebble from more precious stone. Every artifact is photographed and written in a book, before it goes to museum or university."

"Extraordinary what they've uncovered," David said. "From old photos, one would think there was nothing but the Sphinx's head, the pyramids, and a few palm trees."

I interrupted. "Do you know where you want to visit next? Chief Custodio has been good enough to bring the animals around."

David surveyed the area. He suggested we follow the causeway roughly west, then added that he wanted to study the outer parts of the Great Pyramid before they day grew too hot.

We made our way down to Chief Custodio. We then followed the northern face of the causeway, which now seemed more a covered tunnel than a roadway. It was crossed  by passages that cut beneath it, newer construction close to its walls, or drifts of fresh sand. This region, being at the east of the great Sahara Desert must be at risk of becoming buried by shifting sand.

At one section interrupted by later construction, there was a station manned by a couple of laborers. Mixed in caste, they guarded between them a ray receiver atop the causeway, a water pump, a small stove, and the entrance to a nearby shaft. Hakim asked if we wanted to stop for water or tea.

Water was pumped into a metal pitcher and then into a trough for the animals. A carpet and tarp provided some shelter from sand and sun.

"Maa'," I said, trying to make my request in Arabic.

The man in the gallibeyya spoke to me in English.  "Water? In Egypt we say it, 'mayya'."

"Mayya." I nodded. "Shukran."

We rested a while, drinking tea or water, until the ray's printing arms began to move with mechanical sound. The scribe in shirt-sleeves got up to read from the device, which in receiving and printing was like a wirefax, although one printing to slender tape. He looked from the slip of paper.

"Is one of you Julien?" He pronounced my name in two syllables.

"That is me."

"I am to tell the Heru you are at my station." The scribe turned to clack at the ray.

"It is a French name?" the fellah asked.

"It can be," I said, "I think it is an old name. Rumi?"

"Like Count Julian who helped Tariq to Al-Andalus," Hakim said.

I shook my head.

"A story. History surrounded by legend," Chief Custodio explained. "In España, known as la Cava  Rumía."

The scribe returned. "I am to say our Sultan from Alex will be looking for you."

"Shukran," I said quietly, "Thanks."

We took our leave as David finished his second cup of tea. From the ray and water station, we cut across the ancient quarry and cemetery on our donkeys.

I looked up to the hovering barques and to the horizon either side. There were other groups of visitors on foot, or in vehicles, or upon animals, but it was not clear who was in each group.

We reached the paved area around the Great Pyramid, where foundations of funerary temple and  pyramid merged. David and Chief Custodio both dismounted to walk along the foot of the pyramid, which was unthinkably large.

Another group approached on foot from the northeast corner of the pyramid. There were two or three, one of them in a camel-colored jacket carrying an umbrella, and beside him one in a pale-green hooded gallibeyya with ends tied-up to show khaki trousers and tall red-brown boots.

I dismounted as Thierry and Alpha neared our group. They were not alone, but I could not see who might be with them for the manner in which Thierry played at spinning his umbrella over his shoulder.  It must have annoyed Alpha also, for he swatted at its shaft.

"I like a bit of shade," Thierry said. He smiled as he turned his face towards Alpha. "But I can stand the heat." He swung his umbrella forward and slid it closed.

There was a woman with them, a step behind Thierry, dressed in white and carrying a matching lace parasol. My mouth opened in some small surprise as I recognized her figure and ruffled dress from our hotel in Venèxia.

"This is Caroline," Thierry said.

Caroline lifted her veil over the brim of her hat. Never had a woman looked on me as she did. Her waxed lips parted, and her green eyes looked wide and soft as she tilted her head. Caroline's brown hand gloved in white lace reached toward me, but stopped short of touching my cheek.

"Phillip," she whispered.

"Julien." My throat felt tight.

Caroline blinked rapidly. She squared her shoulders. "Enchanté."

"This is Quim Custodio, a Chief Engineer; David Houdin-Wight, a magician; and Hakim, our guide."

"A pleasure. Miss...?" David prompted.

Caroline narrowed her eyes. "Don't Miss me like I've got some title I've not earned!"

"Jewel," Thierry answered. "Caroline Jewel." He kissed her hand.

Caroline smiled at him. "Thierry's my brother."

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Chapter 67!

The video media is a music video for Rihanna's song 'Rehab'. There's some hint in this chapter why it may be relevant, I mean other than the fact that I cast Rihanna as Caroline Jewel.

There is also an image which should be displaying Adam Lambert (who I cast as Thierry Jewel) in a rather handsome outfit including a tan jacket. I found this image out of context in a search, but after research I believe was originally from a shoot for Fault 2012 Spring issuephotographed by Miguel Starcevich and styled by Avo Yermagyan.

I meant to have this chapter ready yesterday and to try to go back to the old schedule, but I had my nieces visit before I was quite finished.

The Iron Man has been fluctuating in position at the lower end of the Science-Fiction Hot list the last week or so, so I thank my readers, again, for all your support. 2760 Reads and just over 400 votes! :)