Area 51: The Legend (23 page)

The bodies dropped to the floor, lifeless, with smoke rising from the holes in their chests. The other four Judeans bolted, and Gwalcmai chased after them. Donnchadh stared at the four heads, trying to figure out a way around this unexpected development. Gwalcmai returned, marshaling the four surviving Judeans into the chamber, where they clung to the wall, as far from the center as possible.

“The garments,” Donnchadh said. “They must be for whoever handles the Ark.” She moved along the wall, toward the racks. One of the heads tracked her while the other three remained trained on the others in the room.

“Are you sure?” Gwalcmai asked, with a concerned look at the two still-smoking corpses.

Donnchadh made it to the racks without getting fired at. She lifted a white linen robe and slipped it over her head. Then she examined the rest of the accounterments. She glanced over her shoulder at Gwalcmai and the four survivors. “Care to join me?”

Gwalcmai herded the four men along the wall to her position. Donnchadh noticed that the garments were arranged ina specific order and she figured that was the way she should put them on. She took a sleeveless blue shirt with gold fringe and put it on top of the robe. Then a multicolored coat. She noted that metal threads were woven throughout the fabric of the coat but it was missing something to connect it at the shoulders. There was a shelf on top of the rack and she picked up a wooden box. Opening it, she found two stones nestled inside. She used those to fasten the robe. As she did so, a strange tingle passed through her body.

“Are you all right?” Gwalcmai asked. He had put on one of the white linen robes and a red coat. There were about a dozen similar garments hanging from the racks, and the four Judeans dressed themselves in these.

Donnchadh nodded. “There’s some sort of field built into this outfit.” She grabbed a breastplate festooned with a dozen jewels and looped the neckpiece for it over her shoulders. The entire outfit was heavy and she felt the tug on her shoulders from all the weight.

“You’re missing something,” Gwalcmai noted, pointing at two empty pockets on the shoulders of the breastplate.

“The urim and thummin,” Donnchadh said. “The stones activate the Grail. They might be stored with it in the Ark or in a separate place. I have a feeling Aspasia would not put them here, though.”

Also on the shelf was a crown consisting of three bands, each stacked on the other. Done dressing, she turned toward the center of the chamber. The four guard heads were aimed directly at her.

“Ready?” Donnchadh asked. She didn’t wait for an answer. She moved toward the white curtain, the heads tracking. She paused, heart racing, as a flash of light came out of the eyes of one of the heads and struck the ground in front of her, then ran up her body, stopping on the breastplate for a couple of seconds, then moving on to the crown. She must have passed the test, because the light went out. Gwalcmai and the others were in single file behind her. Donnchadh reached the veil. She knelt and lifted the white cloth, then passed underneath, the others following.

The Ark rested on a waist-high black platform. It was a meter high and wide, and a little more than that in length. The surface was gold. There were rings on the bottom through which two long poles—obviously to be used to carry it—extended.

And there were two more heads on top of the Ark on either end. As soon as she had entered, they had turned and fixed her with their inhuman gaze. Red light flashed out of both and the process she had just gone through was repeated as the light went over her garments, pausing on the breastplate and crown, then both lights went out. The two heads turned back to gazing at each other over the lid of the Ark.

Donnchadh was tempted to open the Ark, but she knew that time was of the essence. Also, even if the Grail was inside, without the two stones, they could do nothing with it. Gwalcmai issued orders and the four Judeans moved into position on the poles. They grabbed one of the white curtains and ripped it down, draping it over the Ark. Then the four surviving Judeans lifted it, and Donnchadh led the way out of the Hall of Records.

1,500 B.C.:
THE
DESERT
EAST
OF
GIZA

It appears that the Pharaoh has changed his mind,” Gwalcmai said as they observed the column of dust many kilometers to their rear. There was a similar column ahead of them—the thousands of Judeans whom they had freed. They were currently three days’ march from Giza, and Gwalcmai had been complaining for the last forty-eight hours about the extremely slow pace of the Judeans. They had left the fertile land around the Nile and were now well into the desert but they were not making much progress—at least according to Gwalcmai’s standards.

Moses was at the head of the Judeans along with the four who bore the Ark. Behind was what Gwalcmai had in his better moods referred to as a gaggle of people and in his worse moods described using various expletives in their own tongue. Families, animals, wagons, were spread across the desert with little organization, simply following the man who had rescued them out of bondage—for the time being at least.

“How long before they catch us?” Donnchadh asked.

Gwalcmai had been watching the cloud for over an hour, gauging its progress. “They’re very confident.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because they’re not moving very quickly either. Faster than us to be sure. But not an all-out pursuit. Most of the Pharaoh’s army is infantry,” Gwalcmai said. “He has cavalry and chariot units, but I think his generals will want to bring their main force to bear. It’s not like these people here are going to set any land speed records.” He mentally calculated. “Three days and they can cut us off. I also don’t think they’re going to put up much of an organized fight once we make contact.”

“We’re two days from the crossing,” Donnchadh said. They had scouted the routes out of Egypt earlier, on their way to recruit Moses. “So we can get across before the Egyptians arrive.”

Gwalcmai shook his head. “The Judeans are not well organized. They cannot hold the crossing against the Egyptians. Also, even if we hold, they’ll just flank north and catch us in the desert on the far side.”

“The Judeans won’t have to hold the crossing,” Donnchadh said. She looked at her husband. “You warriors always think in terms of force of arms. But there are other forces out there that can be used.”

“And I suppose you aren’t going to tell me what they are,” Gwalcmai said.

“Not yet,” Donnchadh said with a teasing smile. “You’ll see.”

“Whatever your plan is,” Gwalcmai said, “it had better be good.”

To the south was the Red Sea and to the north the Mediterranean. Directly in front of them was an expanse known by one of two names, depending on who one asked: Bitter Sea, or the Sea of Reeds. The water was shallow, in most places about three to four meters deep. Many sandy islands dotted it, each surrounded by a fringe of tall reeds. It was a desolate place with no inhabitants. At its widest, it was over twenty kilometers from Egypt to the Sinai Peninsula.

This was the only place they could get out of Egypt because the land to the north that connected Egypt with Sinai had numerous forts manned by the Pharaoh’s soldiers. And they did not have ships to cross the Red Sea to the south. There were two narrow strips of sand that ran across the length of this sea, each ten meters wide, and it was in the dry bed between these that the mass of Judeans was stretched. These ridges of sand were what remained from the Airlia mothership’s flight from Giza to the Sinai thousands of years previously, its gravitational drive scarring the face of the planet.

Gwalcmai and Donnchadh, as usual, were bringing up the rear. The dust cloud from the Egyptians was very close, just over the horizon. It was also very thick, indicating the Pharaoh had sent a large force in pursuit. They were at the place where the sand causeway touched the Egyptian side of the water.

“There.” Gwalcmai was pointing. A cluster of small specks came over the dune just in front of the dust cloud. “The advance guard. Cavalry.” Gwalcmai looked over his shoulder. The first of the Judeans had reached the far side of the Sea of Reeds, but the rest were stretched out so far that there was still a good number waiting to move through the sand road protected by the ridges. Gwalcmai muttered a few choice curse words in his native tongue.

“Relax,” Donnchadh said. “This will work out.”

Gwalcmai had been considering the tactical situation. “I can hold the way for a little while with a small group of men—good men, they’d have to be, because there would be no retreat. If you take my
ka,
then—”

“Relax,” Donnchadh said once more, cutting him off. “Itold you I have a plan. A scientist’s plan, not a warrior’s plan. There is no need for a dramatic last stand.”

“And you did not tell me the plan,” Gwalcmai said, “so I—”

“Hush.” Donnchadh put her hand on his shoulder. She pointed up with the other hand. “The moon will be up soon, even though it is still daylight.”

“And?”

“Why do you think we spent that extra week in the desert before we took Moses to the Pharaoh?”

“Because you wanted to,” Gwalcmai said simply.

“Because I had a plan,” Donnchadh said. “Look.” She pointed to the lake.

“What am I looking at?” Gwalcmai asked, reining in his impatience.

“This lake is connected to the Red Sea on its southern end. It actually is an estuary, not a lake. The water is salt, not fresh, thus its name. Which means it is affected by the tides. Which are coming in.”

Gwalcmai processed this information for several seconds. “But the ridges on either side are above the high-tide mark. You can see by the marks that they have never been covered and this path has never been flooded.”

“Yes. Most of the time. For normal high tides,” Donnchadh said. “But this evening the moon will be full. Every thirty days, when the moon is full, and the tide is high—well, you’ll see.” She reached into her pack and pulled out several gray blocks of explosive. “Give me a hand with this.”

Gwalcmai had lost his voice. He’d spent the last two hours screaming at the tail end of the long column, trying to get the Judeans to move more quickly. He’d ended up throwing an old woman who could not keep up over hisshoulder, holding her with one hand, while he used the sword in his other to slap donkeys and other beasts of burdens on their hindquarters to get them moving more quickly.

As he reached the Sinai end of the sand path, Gwalcmai handed the woman to a couple of teenage boys, then turned and faced back the way they had come. Pharaoh’s front guard had halted on the Egyptian side, waiting for the rest of the army to come forward. Gwalcmai knew that was a mistake— they had given up the initiative. He knew the decision had been made because the small front guard could easily be trapped on the causeway and overwhelmed if the Judeans turned on them, but any fool could see that the Judeans weren’t organized and were running away as fast as possible.

“You timed all of this, didn’t you?” Gwalcmai asked his wife as they watched the bulk of the Egyptian army slowly appear. “You knew they would pursue us.”

“I didn’t know for certain that they would pursue,” Donnchadh said, “but I knew it was a possibility. I did time our encounter with the Pharaoh to ensure it would be the right time of month when we arrived here.”

The tide was already quite high, water lapping at both sides of the causeway, but still a good three feet from cresting.

“They’re coming,” Gwalcmai said. It was two hours before dark and the lead elements of the Egyptian army began to move into the path. The rest of the force followed, the setting sun glinting off the spear tips and armor of the Egyptian soldiers.

Donnchadh and Gwalcmai moved back about five hundred meters from the Sinai side of the causeway. They had instructed Moses to keep the Judeans moving into the desert, as far away from the water as possible. The last of the Judean group was still less than a kilometer from them as the lead elements of the Egyptians approached the Sinai Peninsula.

Donnchadh pulled the black sphere out of her pack andwrapped her fingers around it. Numerous hexagonal sections were highlighted with very small High Rune writing on each.

“Tell me when,” she said to Gwalcmai, trusting his military instincts for the timing.

Gwalcmai had his bow in hand, an arrow notched. He lifted the weapon, the arrow pointing up at a forty-fivedegree angle, and let loose the string. The arrow was almost invisible as it quickly flew toward its target. The barbed head caught the lead Egyptian in the throat, tearing through. The man fell, his blood pouring out of the severed artery. The front of the Egyptian column came to a temporary halt as the officer in charge yelled orders. The rest of the column, however, continued to press forward. The sand path between the two ridges was a mass of infantry, chariots, and cavalry.

“Now,” Gwalcmai said.

Donnchadh pressed the button.

A dozen charges on each sand ridge detonated, opening ten-meter-wide gaps at each spot. The water that had been held at bay for millennia surged in. Draped with armor and burdened with weapons, the Egyptians closest to the gaps had no chance. They were washed under and drowned. Those further away desperately dropped their weapons and tried to tear off their gear.

Those closest to the Sinai, and Gwalcmai and Donnchadh’s location, threw down their weapons and ran forward, arms held high in supplication as the water roared toward them. Gwalcmai showed no mercy, firing his bow as quickly as he could notch an arrow and draw and release the string. A dozen Egyptians died by his hand before the water surged over the rest and they were gone. Within a minute, the Bitter Sea had reclaimed the small strip of dry land that had divided it. The only indication that an army was drowned under the water were a few floating pieces of debris—awooden arrow here, the feathers from an officer’s helmet there. It was almost as if the Pharaoh’s army had never existed.

“I do not think they will follow us again,” Gwalcmai said as he slipped the bow over his shoulders.

Donnchadh stood still, the enormity of what she had just caused sinking in.