Tomb Crasher

Joseph’s vacation had gotten off to a fine start when he got into a heated argument with an Arab he suspected of being the prince of some sultanate or another. They had been taking refuge from the heat in a quaint little café and naturally the two hot-blooded youths had managed to irritate one another over the affections of some German wench. The fact that none of them spoke a common language did not deter them, and after midday had passed into the afternoon the two young men took their convertibles to the long tracks of road running across the desert to race for the affections of their Bavarian beau, whom they had absentmindedly forgotten to invite along. Regardless a good time was had by the both of them as they charged ahead, the hot wind blowing their headgear away and eliciting primal cries from both. Very few cars came towards them from the opposite direction, but the few that did were forced to dodge into the sands as the two took up both lanes, racing neck-to-neck. The trouble began when they got too far from the city and the condition of the road began to deteriorate. At first this only caused wild bumps that reminded Joseph of sailing rough seas or riding a bucking horse, neither an unfamiliar pastime to him.
And then he lost a front tire and swerved off uncontrollably, sliding down a dune and into a dried up riverbank, the bottom of which was full of rocks. Had it just been sand the car would’ve been fine, but the rocks wrinkled and scratched and crushed the beautiful paintjob, demolished the springs and the seats themselves came off. The prince kept driving on with a mad cackle, not having the slightest intention of helping him. It wasn’t long before the reason for his haste became apparent; the local police was steadily approaching on their scooters. Unfamiliar as he was with their language Joseph was unable to explain why it had been so imperative for him to drive on the opposite lane like a madman, and so he was handcuffed and escorted to the jail of a small police station out in the boons.

Two days passed before Joseph was released, during which he had learned to curse the locals in their own language and to make many obscene hieroglyphics on the walls of his cell to join their predecessors. His final doodle was the classic “Kilroy was here”, written in the Queen’s English by Jove.
Uncle Reginald was not amused by the destruction of an expensive car or by the massive amount of bribes he’d been forced to pay to get his nephew free. He demanded the boy take things more seriously, that he should grow up and take responsibility and than in HIS day…
Joseph didn’t pay particular attention to the tirade of the old stiff and wondered if he couldn’t swipe some of those treasures his uncle’s servants were always digging up out of them tombs. A couple of old gold jinglies, a visit to a pawn shop and he’d have a down payment for a new beast to drive. He’d just sign his uncle’s name on the contract and that would be the end of it, ol’ Reg was too absentminded to pay attention to expenses like that. It was one of his favourite phrases, wasn’t it? “We spared no expense” Uncle Reg would say, and then he’d go on at length to explain why whatever trite garbage he was up to now was the most important discovery of science since the last trite garbage he’d gotten up to. He’d once taken up a massive loan to prepare an expedition to look for a n American civil-war era vessel up in the desert and the absolute madman had found it, becoming a millionaire overnight from all the gold he’d claimed as salvage. For a time Joseph had admired his uncle, and he had seriously wanted to become an archaeologist too. He’d spent a single summer using a brush to clean dirty shards of clay jars and gotten sick of it. Still, studying history and such had seemed like a decent enough excuse to go to university and not be watched over by mother and father all the time, so he’d done it. Four years later he’d accomplished absolutely nothing in his studies and due to his lifestyle he couldn’t afford to go on a proper vacation this summer, and alas he’d found himself in the care of his dear old uncle.
“And moreover we have those visitors from Germany, don’t you know?” Reg was saying, attempting to twirl the end of his moustache with little success. He’d never been able to grow them properly, the poor sod.
“What’s that Uncle?” Joseph asked, the mention of Germans striking him with a hint of familiarity for some reason. Now what was it again…?
“The German expedition, boy! They have been pursuing an avenue of study that has led them right into the same area as we’re excavating in! Now fancy that! Just goes to show that science will always lead you to the truth no matter direction you approach it from!”
Oh that’s right; there had been that German girl at the café. It’s not like that was anything unusual, but Joseph had some cause to assume she might have been a student of the sciences. The big round glasses and the two cute braids, why she was the very picture of a bookworm! It wouldn’t be too dreadfully boring too spend some time around her. He’d learn some of her tongue, she’d learn some of his, and who knows maybe they’d even learn a bit of each others’ languages too…
Joseph chuckled at the thought, and Uncle Reginald joined in with a hearty laugh from his gut.
“That’s right old son, it’s truly a wonderful thing!”
“What, the way German women braid their hair?”
Reginald dropped his monocle and went red in the face as laughter made him buckle over. An old stiff he may have been, but still he was a dirty old man who found all matters relating to women a cause of overwhelming emotional outbursts. With any luck he’d keel over one day from seeing some exotic dancing girl and then all his earthly possessions would be bequeathed unto his favourite nephew…
Joseph stared out of the car’s window and lamented the fact that he hadn’t learned hypnosis when the Chinaman had offered to teach him. He HAD been a doctor after all, or so he claimed. But who would trust a man who let his fingernails grow that way?

The car finally made its way to the dig site. Ideally Joseph would’ve preferred going to a hotel and taking a proper bath after being in the same clothes for almost three full days, and he’d have eaten something sweet and maybe had some drinks with fruit juice and hard liquor mixed together, and in the evening he’d have gone to see some dancing girls and enjoyed some more of those drinks… ah, but no. None of that was possible when the excavation was so far from the city proper, it was several hours’ drive into the city and back and he had no patience for it. Or any means by which he could accomplish it, the cars they had available at the camp were all ugly and built for utility. Joseph had no use for them.
“Now you make yourself presentable lad, I’ll introduce you to our guests within the hour” Uncle Reg said, grunting with effort as he removed his corpulent form from the car seat.
“Within the hour? But where on earth are they?” Joseph asked sceptically, eyeing up the camp. There weren’t any new tents for all the workers another expedition would need to house, no new trucks to carry their equipment. Why, the only tent he couldn’t recognize was…
“Only one tent?” he asked with surprise in his voice.
“Aye my boy, they didn’t hire workers since we’re so well equipped” Reginald said, wiping his forehead. He was perspiring a dangerous amount but still refused to dress in anything other than a full suit.
“Then they mean for us to do all the work?” Joseph asked, somehow including himself despite not actually doing any work around here if he could help it. Any fancy trinkets they lost to the Huns would eventually come out of his pocket after all.
“Oh no my boy, no, no. They offer a mighty bundle of records for us to peruse, don’t you know. A great deal of theoretical discussion to be had with them, oh yes. All that busywork with the shovels and brushes is best left to the hired help, it’s really only a formality when it comes to discovering something truly meaningful you know…”
That’s not what you thought when you found all those gold bars in the hold of that ship in the desert, Joseph thought but he felt too lethargic to argue about the matter. Wealth had made the old man soft, so let him be soft in the head as well. It would be all the easier to exploit him.

			***

Joseph had managed to wash up some using the stale, lukewarm water they kept for that purpose, and having left his nice clothes to the laundry rota he had put on the type of neutral-coloured and light gear that a person working at an archaeological dig-site in the desert might be expected to wear. He had taken a sip from his personal stash of brandy but it didn’t much improve his mood. Dinner was still far away and the drive had made him miss lunch. He’d go into the mess-tent and scrounge up something after he was finished making a good impression to the Huns. While shaving he wondered if he should leave a neatly trimmed start for a beard on, just to taunt Uncle Reg, but decided against it. He looked better clean shaven, and he was going out there to impress any German women he’d come across.
The meeting was in the big research pavilion, where every wall was covered by maps and charts and copies of ancient scripts and photographs of statues and things. Joseph was supposed to know what it all meant, but he didn’t. What did it matter anyway? If the Germans asked him anything he’d refer to Uncle Reg, he would chew their ears off on any and all of these topics.

To Joseph’s surprise there were only three Germans in the pavilion. He recognized them easily as they were all blonde and dressed up in uniforms that he judged were far too hot for the climate. Their boots were shining despite all the sand and dirt in the vicinity, and they all seemed to be listening intently to Reg’s explanation of something or other. To Joseph’s delight one of the three was indeed the girl he’d seen prior to his brief incarceration, still wearing her glasses and braids, but now dressed in a near black skirt that fitted her form very tightly, a black vest and tie and a white shirt. Her coat was folded in her lap and she was writing notes into a small red notebook while staring with awe at Reg, who without pausing his speech gestured for Joseph to come join them. He did so and pulled up a chair while checking out the other two guests.
One was a woman quite a bit taller than anyone else in the room, her hair an extremely even bobcut, her uniform immaculate, a pistol and a riding crop hanging off her belt, her coat still on and a cap in her lap. Rather than a skirt she was wearing pants, one leg folded over the other, her foot tapping in the air as if she was keeping up with the rhythm of Reginald’s speech. She eyed Joseph up and down with a quick glance and winked at him, parting her lips slightly and giving the slightest lick to her lower lip. Joseph felt butterflies in his stomach despite the fact that this woman was likely old enough to be his mother.
The third person was shorter than the other two and had shorter hair, this one too in the male military uniform. Joseph assumed it was a young man until she spoke and revealed herself to be a young woman.
“Herr Guzzler, I do believe your nephew has joined us? You maybe should introduce us?”
Reginald coughed a bit, took a sip of water and then nodded.
“Yes, quite right. Ah, Joseph, my dear boy, these are our German colleagues Gloria…” at this point the bespectacled one stood up and did a curtsy, “…and Adrian…” the short one waved a greeting, “…and of course Ilsa” the tall one smiled so her teeth showed and narrowed her eyes, looking like a hungry cat about to pounce on a bird. Joseph stood up and bowed to each woman in turn.
“A pleasure to meet you all” he said, trying not to meet Ilsa’s gaze. That one would have him before the day was through and he wasn’t sure if it mattered if he was willing or not. He’d come here expecting to be charming to the one he now knew was called Gloria, but it seemed she didn’t particularly care about him.
“Ah, these ladies, they were just telling me about how they had discovered that there was such a thing as, as, what was it you called it dears?” Reg kept talking, clearly oblivious to the tension between his nephew and the older woman.
“An orb of summoning, Herr Guzzler” the one called Adrian said. “It is an item certain sources of ours have confirmed as having existed in many different geographical locations as well as time-frames, yet not one has been discovered by modern science. It is our hope to uncover one here”.
Reginald nodded, seemingly oblivious of what was being talked about. He had been the one just talking after all, it was unlikely he had listened to too much the women had actually told him. He could be like that, Joseph thought.
“Quite right, an orb. A spherical thing, you know Joseph” he said, as if to emphasize his expertise in matters geometrical.
“And what does it summon?” Joseph asked, trying very hard to focus his attention to Adrian and not let his eyes flick either to the ample bosom of Gloria or the shining boots or perpetual smile of Ilsa.
“Forces from beyond this world, or so our sources say. Such things may be superstitions, but it is our duty to study such superstitions in case they are genuine, and we have enough cause to assume that they are indeed genuine in this case, meine herren”.
Reginald chuckled.
“The supernatural, little miss? Oh come now, you Germans and your theories! I’ve heard of all manner of silly things you get up to, but to use some old playing ball to summon the forces of, of what, Mars? Jupiter? Venus?”
“The powers of the dead, actually” Gloria said, and Joseph only now realized she spoke perfect English. She’d only pretended not to the other day. What a crooked trick.
“The dead, dear?”
“Yes, that’s right. The dead. The ancient Egyptians were firm believers in life after death, and this orb was supposedly equipped with the power to bring the dead back into the land of the living to do the bidding of she who holds the orb” Adrian explained, and Joseph couldn’t help but notice the use of the female pronoun.
“So what will you do with this army of the undead if you can muster it?” he asked, and both Adrian and Gloria looked expectantly at Ilsa, who brushed some invisible speck of dust from her sleeve before looking Joseph in the eye and answering.
“We intend to DOMINATE with it” she said, her voice little more than a whisper.
Reginald was getting more and more beetlike in the face as he almost chocked with his hysterical laughter.
“Oh jolly good, jolly good ladies! Take over the world with an army of the dead, what? That is, why that is just the thing, isn’t it!”

Joseph got up and beat his uncle’s back to ease his suffering and then they were interrupted when one of the workers rushed in.
“Effendi, effendi! We found it!” he babbled, and Reginald jumped to his feet with the agility of a much younger man.
“Well don’t just stand there man, take me there!” he ordered and rushed off, completely ignoring Joseph and his guests, who were left in the pavilion somewhat confused.
“What do you think they found?” Joseph wondered, “I’ve been away for a few days but I don’t remember us working on anything that exciting”.
Adrian stood up and finished a cup of tea that had been on the table in-front of her. “We arrived here yesterday and arranged for the workers to begin excavating where our information indicated the tomb to be” she answered matter-of-factly. “Your uncle was not present so he could not interfere”.
Joseph rubbed his chin. “So you just… waltzed in here and took over?”
Ilsa let out a contagiously delighted laughter and clapped her hands together.
“Oh, that is precisely what we did, boy. Would it really have made much difference if you and your uncle had been here to greet us?” she asked, tenting her fingers and looking at Joseph over them, her lips once again slightly parted.
“I… I don’t think so. S-should we go and see what they’ve found?”
“Oh, you are in such a hurry, boy! Sit down and let’s get to know each other a little better” Ilsa said, and Joseph hesitated.
“I said ‘sit down’, boy” she repeated, her tone slightly sterner, but the look on her face still too light for it to be taken a serious order. Still Joseph found himself obeying.
“You two may go” Ilsa said, still staring into Joseph’s face, and without comment the other two women left and closed the door-flap to the pavilion as they left.
Ilsa poured Joseph a drink of lemonade from a pitcher and a silvery ring with a goat’s head decoration glimmered before his eyes. Odd, he’d never seen such a mark before. A goat… now what did that stand for?
“Drink up, you look thirsty” Ilsa instructed, and Joseph thanked her and obeyed. He didn’t merely sip, he drank the whole glass empty.
Ilsa leaned closer to him from across the table. “Tell me Joseph” she asked, her voice all honey, “where have you been these past days, hm? Your uncle told us he had to spend considerable time looking for you, and why just two days ago our Gloria saw you in town, getting in trouble. Are you a very naughty boy, Joseph? A little troublemaker?”
She lifted an eyebrow and rested her chin on her hands. There was no pulling away from her eyes.
“I… I raced a little. My car was wrecked and, well I ended up in jail” Joseph blurted out, somehow unable to keep quiet about it.
“Oh my, that must have been very scary for you” Ilsa said with what seemed like genuine worry in her face and she put her hand on his. Her nails were long but neatly trimmed, and so warm. Even the metal of the ring felt warm. But then again this was the desert, of course it was warm.
“Well not really, I mean nothing really dangerous happened…”
“What a brave young man you are! Why, I think I would have been downright devastated by such an accident!”
It felt good to have her call him brave. For whatever reason. Joseph nodded.
“It was kind of fun, really. But I was rather bored in jail, that’s a fact, ehehe…”
“Oh I’m sure you were, you daredevil! How ever did you pass the time there?”
Once again Joseph found himself unable to withhold the truth from her.
“Well I doodled a lot on the walls, and tried to read what others had written there. It was mostly dirty stuff though…”
“Hmm, and you, such a good boy, you wouldn’t have written any naughty things there, would you?”
“N-no, I mean, well, yeah, just a little…”
Ilsa withdrew her hands to cover her mouth as she gasped.
“Why Joseph! I am ever so disappointed in you!”
Joseph felt his heart sink.
Ilsa shook her head.
“And here I thought you were just the man I needed, a brave, fit young man with a stout heart. But you’re just another filthy little pig, aren’t you?”
Joseph shook his head.
“No way ma’am. When in Rome, do as the Romans do, that’s the way of things, but I’m not in jail anymore, so you need a hero, I’m your man!”
He had no idea what he was babbling anymore. It’s like someone else was using his mouth to speak, and yet he couldn’t help but keep talking and believe every word that came out.
Ilsa’s eyes narrowed again.
“Is that so? And what would my hero do for me?”
“Anything at all ma’am!”
“Oh? Then if I asked you for a favour…” she purred, standing up and walked around behind him, putting her hands on his shoulders, massaging them. She was strong.
“Yes! Yes, just ask!”
“And if it was a dangerous task?” she asked, lowering her head so her breath tickled his ear.
“I’m not afraid”
“Of course you aren’t, a strong young man like you…” she touched his earlobe with her teeth, and then wrapped her arms around him. There was a scent of sweat coming off of her that made Joseph inhale as deeply as he could to catch it all. His body felt completely limp, except for one part, and it seemed Ilsa was well aware of this as the hand with the ring brushed over his crotch.
“Then would my brave knight go into that tomb, hm? With a little something…?”
Joseph couldn’t speak, so he merely nodded.
“Then you will take this…” Ilsa whispered into his ear and dropped something down his pants, something rough and uncomfortable, “…and you will place it into the place in the orb where it fits, and when you come back maybe you can try to fit something of yours into something of mine, yes?”
Joseph couldn’t even nod as Ilsa pulled his head back and kissed him, her tongue invading his mouth, one hand holding his hair in place by his hair and one hand squeezing the rough something into his crotch, and the kiss went on and on and then she bit his lip and stopped. Joseph stared up into her eyes, breathing heavily.
“You will do this for me, won’t you Joseph?”
“Yes ma’am” he said, finally able to speak.
“That’s a good boy”

***

Joseph arrived at the hole with a backpack full of food, water and matches. He had a compass, though he wasn’t sure that would work down there. He had a torch and a lantern and he hoped those would be enough to handle the darkness. The desert night was chilly and he was sure it wouldn’t be too warm in the tomb either, but he wasn’t daunted. He was well rested and well-fed, so even if he got lost he’d survive until he was found. The first expedition into the tomb wasn’t set to take place until around 9 in the morning, so he might be able to pull off his quest without a hitch before anyone thought to miss him. He looked up at the stars, then the campfires where the workers were still telling ghost stories, and lastly to the darkened figure of the German tent, where the three women slept. If this went well he’d go there and he might as well be ascending the stairway to Heaven. He smiled and went past the rope that walled off the hole from the rest of the desert. This spot was nowhere near where they had been digging before the ladies arrived. He had to wonder what their sources were for them to know where to dig this accurately, while Uncle Reg had been way off. He could ask later on. But for now he just had to get down there and put the shard back where it had come from. How did the Germans have the shard to begin with? How had it ended up wherever it had been from here? So many questions, questions that he wouldn’t even have thought to ask a while ago were now overwhelming him. It was like he’d gone back to when he was a child admiring Uncle Reg’s discoveries, like he wanted to be an archaeologist again. Was it for science or just to get some sugar though? What did it matter; he would be the first man to truly explore this tomb in millennia, and that made him a hero of science and heroes deserve their rewards, don’t they? Sure they do. Nothing underhanded about that.
It was cold at the tomb entrance, colder even than the usual desert night. Darkness enveloped him all around and he immediately felt like the walls were closing in on him. If he went ahead any more than he already had, he’d be crushed by a collapsing ceiling, he just knew it… it was time for some light now. Safely hidden from anyone who could see him Joseph took out the lantern and lit it. The warm yellow glow barely lit up the gloom and he found it awkward to hold the lantern up at arm’s length so it wouldn’t shine in his face, but at least it kept him from hitting the walls. They weren’t as close as he’d thought; there was room enough for maybe four men to walk side-by-side in this hallway. There were sturdy pillars embedded into the walls and he found himself wondering why that was. What was the point of erecting pillars if half of them would be hidden inside a wall? Why had those walls been erected that way? Joseph twirled around from one side to the other, looking the walls up and down to see the hieroglyphics and any other ornaments. He wished he’d paid more attention during those Egyptology lectures he’d been to. But he’d had more artistic pursuits, drawing… things. It was a risqué move for a girl to see how high she could lift her skirt without anyone other than her and Joseph noticing, and it had been very difficult to draw those legs, but it had been a worthy cause. Didn’t help him understand who was buried here, though.
Before he knew it Joseph was in so deep he could no longer see the exit, but that was only natural in this darkness. It could’ve been right there, just a few steps away, but without sunlight streaming in it wasn’t visible. Nothing to worry about. It was the orb he needed to find. How big was the tomb? Were there many side passages?

He arrived at a fork in the tunnel. A statue of Anubis stood on a pedestal, a staff in one clawed hand and scales in the other. That’s odd; he didn’t remember Anubis having paws like that. He didn’t remember Anubis having breasts either. Or a human face. The ears were there, but… this wasn’t Anubis at all, was it? The silhouette of the ears and the scales had immediately evoked that imagery, but he’d been wrong after all. But which way should he go? The scales implied judgement after death, he knew at least that much. And the staff was a symbol of power, wasn’t it? So it made perfect sense the orb was down the hallway marked with the staff, right?
Feeling smug in his own genius Joseph started down the passage on the right-hand side of the statue, and within just a few steps he faced a wall of rubble. There had been a cave-in, or maybe the passage had been demolished to prevent tomb robbers to get in. Joseph shook his head in frustration. He wasn’t getting in through all this; it would take days or even weeks to clear it away. He swallowed. The stuffy, cold air was starting to feel oppressive and his light wasn’t helping his fears of the walls falling on him when he had direct evidence of them having done so. He’d just leave now. He’d go back and tell Ilsa that the orb wasn’t within reach. There was no shame in this. He simply couldn’t…
But what if he’d chosen the wrong passage? It would be humiliating to return to her and admit failure when he hadn’t done everything he could. He could still find the orb down the other hallway. There was nothing to fear, he’d just go and check that passage and if the orb wasn’t there then he’d done all he could. And if it had collapsed too, then he’d really be without blame, wouldn’t he? Yes, that’s the thing!
Joseph returned to the statue of Lady Anubis and spent a moment inspecting the statue. He wasn’t an art historian or an expert on such matters, but he was fairly certain that statues with such realistic figures were more of a Greco-Roman or Renaissance thing, not Egyptian. Perhaps it was from the... Ptolemaic dynasty? The woman had a mighty fine figure, clawed hands and feet or the furry tail not withstanding. It was even painted! Who’d have thought! Such lively colours! And her stomach was so deliciously toned, why…
Despite knowing he was quite alone Joseph looked around and then lowered his lantern to hide his face in the gloom as he leaned over to kiss the exposed belly of the statue.
“Just for luck” he whispered.
Now then! To work, to work. Down the left-hand passage!

Joseph didn’t know if it had been his kiss for good luck or if it was a twist of fate, but he didn’t find an impenetrable wall of rubble down this new passage. He came instead to a much wider hallway with a somewhat lower ceiling. There were two steps that he didn’t notice and ended up tumbling down, his lantern falling off his hand and breaking on the floor. The oil poured on the ground and burned brightly with the smell filling up the room, and getting up Joseph rejoiced at his foresight. He had torches, so now he would use one. It was a shame the lantern had broken, but that couldn’t be helped. When the workers came here in the morning they would find it, but he had no intention of owning up to having been here. Let them blame a grave-robber; let them go on a witch hunt! He’d have nothing to fear. Who would suspect him?
Lighting a torch Joseph found that the new hallway was much better lit thanks to the burning oil on the ground adding up to his new light source. He was able to study the walls and see many strange shapes on them. Once more he found them odd. Yes, it was true he wasn’t an expert but he was quite sure all these insect-women weren’t traditionally a part of Egyptian culture. The paintings on the walls were not at all the clunky profiles he’d been expecting, but rather more like the enlightenment era paintings of the Dutch, depicting with extraordinary realism the figures of horrendous monsters, women with chitinous claws and wings, rolling dark balls like dung beetles, and he saw more of the female Anubises, and he saw women with cat parts, like lecherous depictions of the Sphinx, and women with massive mammaries and the hooves and horns and ears of cows, milk dribbling from their teats, and from the sands erupted a gigantic worm with a pink tongue shaped like a woman, the beast towering over a city, its stature that of a whale. He saw a lady Pharaoh with the body of a gymnast, he saw a purple snake woman with the hood of a cobra, and then he noticed the men. The only men in these pictures were all joined with one monstrous woman or another, joined at the hip, thrusting in. Why, this was pornography!
Josephs breathing grew faster as he walked up and down the hallway, studying the depictions carefully, the cold night feeling much warmer now. Had the ancients truly spent their days painting such visions? The Christians and the Muslims would’ve destroyed these had they ever found them. How many such paintings had been erased in the centuries past? How much of this amazing skill had been struck out forever for the sake of puritan morals? Good God was this not the single most amazing thing…
It occurred to Joseph that uncle Reg would most likely perish at the sight of these lewd antics, hideously nightmarish as they of course were. He’d need to see about getting him to sign a will in the morning or else he’d miss out on… why, owning all this! Here was already a treasure worthy of a king’s ransom!

Joseph calmed himself down and kept walking. He came to a large room after descending three more steps, this time not tripping on them. The room had a higher ceiling than any of the hallways and the walls were of an even length, he was inside a cubic room. On each wall save the one he had entered from there were three doors. At the centre of the room was a low, round table of stone, separated into nine equal segments in the shape of a crescent moon, each having something written on it, and a piece with nothing written on it facing the entrance. He had no idea how to read the characters, but checking these new doors he found that each door corresponded to one segment. Was this a list of who had been buried here? Continuing his examination he found that lined up along the wall he’d entered by there were large jars. His understanding of Egyptian embalming methods implied these contained organs, and he had no intention of checking their contents, he didn’t need someone’s brain of liver in his hands in a place like this. The air was heavier and stuffier down here than in any of the hallways, and after the exhilaration of the pornographic images he’d seen he found himself feeling empty and alone now. The fear of a collapse was beginning to well up in him again, but he had also been gripped by the claws of adventure, and so to overcome his fear he turned to look up at the ceiling to show himself it was solid and firm. To his surprise he also found several jars hanging from there. Glass jars. Not the clean, bright glass he was used to, but rather little more than polished quartz, barely opaque. Now what were these things? In order to reach one he climbed on the table listing the deceased, and poked at one with his torch. It swung on the chain supporting it and the contents sloshed. Of course! Lamps! They had been sealed to prevent the oil from evaporating, and for thousands of years they’d been waiting here to be lit. And now he would do just that!

With some difficulty Joseph removed the top of the lamp, and as he did so he understood how the device worked. The cap had a sort of cylinder attached to it, meaning it had contained the burning material inside it, kept secure from the oil. Joseph brought his torch into the lamp and with a flush it was lit.
The glass was poor workmanship by his standards, but the light was still visible. It was red, he now saw, and wondered why they had chosen this colour. Red was evocative of the rising and setting of the sun, that was a symbol of rebirth, right? That’s how he’d interpret it. There were a total of four lamps he could reach standing on the table, and he lit them all. The red light made the tomb look otherworldly, but the increased luminosity put his mind more at ease. It occurred to him the lamps might burn out the oxygen and leave him dead by asphyxiation. But the room was massive and the tomb was now open to the outside, so he’d be fine, right?
Encouraged by all the light he now had Joseph began to draw his plans for further exploration. He still remembered his original mission, to reach the orb and put the missing piece on it. To get to the orb, he’d need to get through the wall, right? With any luck one of the crypts might be connected to the room with the orb in it. He’d have to intrude, but he’d been doing plenty of that already. Thinking up a floor plan of the tomb in his mind he walked up to the wall he thought was closest to the orb chamber. The way the two hallways had forked meant that the further down them one went the further from one another they ended up, so there could be quite a bit of earth between the orb chamber and this room, but in order to get the closest he’d enter the crypt that was closest to the entrance at the left-most wall from the entrance. He knocked on the frame of the doorway three times before entering, and in the gloom he found another staircase, this one six steps down.

Inside the crypt the ceiling opened up surprisingly high, and to his surprise at the end of the room there was a staircase that led both up and down. In the space he was now there was a long table with two chairs, one on either end, with plates and pots and cups and other utensils on it. A dining room? Looking at the walls he saw a painting, as life-like as the ones he’d seen in the hallway leading here, depicting lush greenery, flowing water and bright skies with clouds and birds. It was some of the most gorgeous artwork he’d ever seen. From the ceiling there hung a massive chandelier, which still had intact candles attached to it. Skirting around the table he arrived at the staircase. As he’d seen before it spiralled up and down. Now which way ought he to go?
First Joseph climbed up, because up felt less ominous. There he found a room with massive candlesticks, a dome-shaped ceiling painted blue with more clouds and birds, and coming down to the edge of the floor the walls depicted an endless expanse of turquoise water with an island dotting it here and there, with flying fish and ships and dolphins and whales and oddly enough lotus flowers painted into the tiles on the floor. At the very centre of the room was a cavity shaped like a circle, a bathtub. On one wall was a mirror, and not one of those bronze mirrors that barely reflected anything but a proper one made of glass, and next to it a table with brushes and combs and various small jars on it. A woman’s make-up from millennia past? He was in the final resting place of a woman, then. He felt he was intruding even more now, but he wasn’t worried about any vengeful spirits. What he was worried about was the lack of a path into the room with the orb. It wasn’t that difficult to understand that there was no need for the two chambers to actually be connected, but against all hope he still hoped. And there was the curiosity. With this in mind Joseph climbed down into the lowest floor, where he knew he’d find the deceased.
This bottom floor had been decorated with more of those breath-takingly lewd images he’d seen before, men and monstrous yet beautiful women engaged in a variety of acts some of which Joseph himself had never had the pleasure of experiencing, or even thought of. The floor was painted red, and there was oddly enough a mirror on the ceiling and what appeared to be a bed at the centre of the room; the actual sarcophagus was in a cavity on one side. Joseph had to wonder about the bed. How could it be so well preserved? He touched it. It felt soft. He lied down to test it out, and sure enough it was very comfortable. A mattress filled with straw or downy feathers surely wouldn’t last this long, and the cloth should have worn out or been consumed by moths or some such ages ago. And yet here it was. He could see himself mighty well from the mirror up top. Was it here so that two lovers could see one another? Did that mean there were two buried in here? But he could only see a single coffin. Joseph walked up to it and brushed the side with his hand. The stone was cold and coarse.
“Rest in peace, whoever you are” he mumbled and turned around. There was a cavity under the staircase, something he hadn’t noticed before. It was too small for him to stand upright in, but it wasn’t so small he couldn’t get in if he… oh dear.

Joseph took off his backpack and left it on the floor. He had no rope to tie around his waist and use to navigate back here if there was some kind of labyrinth beyond here, and reason and caution told him not to go in, especially without his equipment. But something beckoned to him. It was as if his whole life had been building up to this moment. The shard of the orb in his pocket was starting to feel warm, somehow. This hole had been made for him.

The stuffiness of the air was worse than before. Shuffling along in the cramped tunnel while crouching and holding the torch ahead of him was extremely awkward. He was sure the tunnel was slanting slightly downwards, and he found himself even more worried about whether there’d be enough air down there to breathe. But his torch would go out before he suffocated, right? So that’d be fine. He’d just need to shuffle backwards to get out. There weren’t any side-passages so he wouldn’t get lost. Now all he’d need to make sure of was, was… was that a dead end?
Before Joseph could comprehend the fact that the tunnel ended in a smooth wall he lost his footing and slid down. He dropped his torch and saw his only light source tumble down, then he rolled over it and singed his pants, then he slid down ahead of it and slowly saw the torch disappear as his body accelerated past it and into the abyss.
The smooth slide ended before Joseph had time to assess the true danger of his situation and so he fell into the emptiness and… into water.
Panicking Joseph made his way to the surface only to find the pool was shallow enough his feet reached the bottom with his chest above the surface. His torch followed him into the pool and sizzled as the fire went out, leaving him stranded in complete darkness.

Joseph’s heart was beating rapidly. It felt like a hammer beating at his chest from the inside. If he hadn’t been supported by the water his knees would’ve buckled. He’d never been this afraid in his life. He knew well enough he couldn’t climb out the way he’d come in from, he had no light by which he could find another exit – if one even existed – and his shouts for help couldn’t be heard all the way up on the surface. His only hope for a rescue would be when the workers eventually found their way here. But would they come here tomorrow? If they noticed he was missing, would they halt work and look for him in the desert first? Considering uncle Reg’s peculiar ways of thinking he might well reach a decision like that. Maybe Ilsa would convince them to come look for him. But would she? What if she’d want to make sure nobody interfered with his quest to bring the missing piece of the orb back home? Then he’d be stranded here for a while longer, right? And all his food and supplies were up there, beyond him reach. And so was his other torch. All he could do now was wait.
Or do something about his situation like a man, there was that too. Joseph waded ahead in the darkness, expecting to meet either dry land or an even greater depth gaping beneath his feet. He discovered the former. He lifted himself on to the platform and then began to explore his surroundings. Keeping his balance very carefully he walked along the edge of the platform until he found a corner, then turned and followed the other edge. Continuing this he discovered he was dealing with a rectangular, square-shaped platform. Why was it here and why did a slide from a tunnel in one of the crypts lead down here? It didn’t make any sense. The platform was completely surrounded by water, there was no bridge leading to it on any side. How much water was there? He couldn’t say the moat surrounding the platform was too massive. How high up was the ceiling? He had no idea. What was the primary means of entering here? Probably the collapsed hallway, considering the location. But didn’t that mean…
Joseph turned to face the centre of the platform and began walking towards it carefully. He had no means of deducing which direction he was actually headed in the darkness but he’d eventually find the orb if it was there. Had he already walked past it? Was it even here? Trying to judge where he was Joseph turned to the left and walked on a few steps, then hesitated and turned to the right and slid along the floor carefully. Where was he? Which way should he go? If he kept walking along carefully he’d eventually come to an edge and could turn around, but would he end up just getting lost again? Walking in a straight line in complete darkness was so hard, and his wet clothes were making him shiver, and this had been an idiotic idea he just wanted to go back and get in bed and…
“Argh!”
Joseph shouted as he stubbed his toe on the edge of another elevated platform. He stepped up on it and reached his hands out, and sure enough there was a stone orb there. Larger than a pumpkin, the thing must’ve been too heavy to be carried by just one man. This was great! It wouldn’t get him out of here but it at least he’d found it! He ran his hands over the smooth surface, looking for a crack. This thing must’ve been very carefully sanded to be so completely without any coarseness, it almost didn’t feel like stone. The wonders he’d seen in this tomb had been impressive beyond his wildest dreams. What exactly would happen when he placed the missing piece on the orb? Would the dead really rise? That was a ridiculous notion, but he’d have said the same about most of the things he’d seen here if he’d been told about them. What should he do? Was it really such a smart idea to follow up on what Ilsa had told him to do?
His thoughts were interrupted when his fingers found the crack. The hole was exactly the same shape as the piece he had. He felt up the insides of the crack and found the inside to be metallic. Was it gold? It could very well be gold. Joseph licked his lips. If the dead came to life, maybe they’d help him out of here. Or maybe they’d kill him. Or… the lewd images he’d seen flitted across his mind’s eye. Heh. As if.
The missing piece slid into the crack and then a sound of air being pushed out came, and the cracks along the edges simply disappeared. Try as he might Joseph couldn’t find the imperfection anymore. And then the orb felt, no, it didn’t just feel, it was definitely spinning. And as it spun, the orb began to rise up. Not under its own weight though, but the pedestal upon which it was rose up from the ground. And then there was warmth emanating from it, and the slightest glow, a yellow glow, and the stone around the orb began to disappear, and now the pedestal had stopped rising but the orb hadn’t, and the yellow glow turned red and filled the entire room, and Joseph had to cover his eyes, and then the orb began to dim and turn yellow and descend.

The orb was once more made of stone and resting on a pedestal. The glow was gone, but Joseph could see clearly because the water itself was now glowing a bright green. He’d never seen such a hue. He’d entered a realm of the supernatural without understanding any of it, but at least he could see around now. The room around him was cavernous and had a dome-shaped ceiling, with massive pillars and arches supporting it at the corners of the box-shaped lower part. He saw the stairway to the entrance, and he saw the elevated steps in the water that you used to cross from there to the platform. There was no bridge, just those steps. The staircase seemed intact. How far along that passageway was the cave-in? Either way he couldn’t get out that way. He turned around to the other walls. He saw the slide that he’d arrived through, as well as two others. Those were for the other two crypts along the same wall, he assumed. What else was there? On the side opposite the slides there was a huge mosaic depicting the female Anubis, her arms lifted up to hold aloft the orb, and below her a mass of bandage-wrapped figures lifting up their arms in adoration. It was a depiction of her raising the dead using the orb, just like the Germans had said. Joseph eyed up the slides nervously. Would the undead be sliding down into the green water to bathe soon?
Then there was the last wall in the room, the one opposite the entrance. There was a door there, two massive doors in fact, in one door frame. That could lead him… deeper inside. But if he went through there, wasn’t there a chance the structure would circle around so he’d find some kind of tunnel back into the other crypts? This might be his way out. But he had no light to carry with him, all his light was coming out of the water. Did he have any means by which he could take that with him? There must’ve been some kind of vessel somewhere… if only he’d taken a cup from the crypt he’d come through! But he hadn’t. What did he have?
Then he noticed his torch. It had gone out, but it was still floating there. He walked up to the side of the platform and picked it up. The wood had soaked in the green water and had a slight glow. His clothes were still wet but whatever made the water glow hadn’t been there when he had taken his dip, so he wasn’t letting out any light of his own. But maybe…
Joseph tore off a piece of his singed trousers, leaving his thigh exposed. The cold was unpleasant but it’s not like he was going to freeze to death. He wrapped the cloth at the end of the torch and then soaked it in the water. The green glow seeped in to the cloth much better than into the wood, and now Joseph was equipped with what would pass for a torch. The eerie greenness aside he felt much better now and headed for the double-doors.
The doors had no handles on this side, but they had hinges. He pushed on one and with surprisingly little effort got it to slide along on the gravel, making a dragging sound, the hinges squeaking so loud his ears, accustomed to the silence, hurt. As soon as he could enter the doorway he did so, and found that on the other side there was a wide staircase leading up. That seemed promising.
Then he heard a splash and pirouetted around. Had something just…?

In the light of the green water he could see it. The shape that had fallen into the water from the slide. The same slide he’d used. There it was, making its way to the platform, and climbing out…
Without pausing to think Joseph pushed the door shut with all his might. He hadn’t seen quite clearly what the figure looked like beyond the bandages, but the bandages were more than enough. The dead had risen; this wasn’t someone coming to rescue him. He thought of the people who’d died after unearthing the tomb of Tutankhamen. The curse. Would he fall victim to something like that? He rushed up the steps, holding his green torch ahead of him. It was so much weaker than the lantern or the fire he’d had before, it only lit so much. He didn’t have time to enjoy the lewd paintings on the walls of the staircase; he didn’t have time to enjoy the craftsmanship of the arches on the ceiling or the many lamps that lit the way here in times past. He just had to get up and away…
The hinges once more creaked as someone pushed the door open. Of course, the mummy had heard him and was now in pursuit. Where could he hide?
At the top of the stairs there was a room. A passageway continued to the right, and Joseph assumed this led behind the room with the crypts. But in THIS room there was a well and some benches. Whatever the purpose, he saw a chain and bucket attached to the ceiling. If he just…
Thump-thump-thump.
Steps, not very fast, but certainly approaching. Joseph took his only source of light and threw it into the hallway to the right and took hold of the chain, climbing down into the well. He didn’t know how much water there was down there, but at least it wasn’t green. Standing atop the bucket Joseph slowed down his breathing and waited.
Thump-thump-thump.

The steps came right up to the well, and then stopped. Joseph’s eyes weren’t quite so accustomed to the darkness he could tell if a figure leaned over the side of the well or not. He was certain that the mummy was there though, so he closed his eyes. If he didn’t look at it, maybe it would go away.
He held his breath completely. His hands were starting to hurt from holding the chain.
Thump-thump-thump. The steps left. Joseph waited just a little longer before breathing again. Then he opened his eyes. Then he waited some more. Then he climbed, with great difficulty, and peeked out into the darkness. He saw the mummy hunched over the torch he’d thrown away. He wasn’t quite sure since there wasn’t enough light, but he thought the shape of the figure under the bandages was female, as he’d surmised based on the contents of the crypt. Wide hips, a heart-shaped rump, the lumps of the chest, the hour-glass figure… yes, definitely a woman. He saw it turn its head and so he lowered himself down the chain again. All the way down. He had no intention of testing this female mummy’s patience. He didn’t want to be caught.
It was only when he’d reached the level of the water he realized what a mistake he’d made. Now that the mummy had the torch, all it had to do was drop it down here and he’d be perfectly visible. Unless he…
Joseph dipped a foot into the well water and found it to be colder than he’d imagined. Somehow the water in the orb chamber had been just a little cooler than lukewarm, but this was proper well water from deep below. For his survival he’d need to hide in it though.
He lowered his body into the water with a gasp and hoped he wouldn’t need to dive down for too long when the mummy inevitably showed up. If only the ripples he’d caused would go away…
Thump-thump-thump.

The mummy held the torch and looked down into the well. In the green glow he could see her face was covered in bandages save for the eyes, but from beneath the wraps her hair was flowing in black strands, wild and unkempt. Of course it was a mess; she’d been asleep for thousands of years and just got up. Heheheh.
Joseph shut his eyes again. If he didn’t see her, she didn’t see him! Then he opened his eyes again because he realized how silly it was.
Against his expectations she didn’t drop the torch down the well. Instead there was a rustling sound, and then she dropped down the cloth he’d tied to the end of it. Joseph took a deep breath and dove under the icy water so he wouldn’t be seen in the light.
His countermeasure had been useless. The green stuff in the cloth now soaked into the well water, which began to faintly give off the same light. Joseph was fully visible and he knew it.
The chain began to rattle as the mummy took hold of it. Then, steadily and firmly, she began to pull up the chain. Joseph, knowing he’d be left stranded in the well if he didn’t do so, held on for dear life. He still had a chance to lunge out and escape. He’d do it. As soon as he was out he’d jump, tackle the mummy and run out. Somewhere. His numb hands almost failed to keep him attached to the chain though. His teeth were chattering. Goddammit he was cold. He was so cold, in fact, that he didn’t have the necessary strength to make a massive lunge to his freedom. He merely remained rigid and inert as the mummy took hold of his shirt with one hand and pulled him out of the well. Joseph fell on his ass and hugged himself for warmth, backing away until his back was against a wall. He had no idea where to go or what to do now. The mummy approached him, holding the torch up above their heads. She kneeled down in front of him and the bandages around her crotch tore with a loud sound. She looked down, and Joseph’s eyes followed. Her shaved crotch was clearly visible. Joseph swallowed. She didn’t look decayed at all. The mummy loosened the bandages around her head and pulled them off of her face. She looked very much like a living woman with sunken cheeks and very tired eyes. Not unattractive or rotten at all. She reached for Joseph’s cheek and brushed it, saying something in a language he couldn’t understand. Then she dropped the torch and ripped his wet shirt apart in one clean motion, tossing the pieces all over the place. Before Joseph could think to resist she had done the same to his pants and shoes. He lifted his arms to resist, but the mummy was having none of it, and with a fluid movement she undid some of the bandages on her arm and used the lax wraps to tie Joseph’s hands behind his back. Her movements were not sluggish or weak at all, she was probably stronger than he was. She pulled him on his feet and wrapped bandages from her other arm around his neck to make a leash. Holding his hands and neck she yanked him along into the darkness, leaving the torch on the ground. Joseph stared back at the light for as long as it was visible, uncertain as to the fate that now awaited him.

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