Hypatia's Diary, page 11
part #2 of Darwin Lacroix Adventure Series
“Si. A former lover texted that he had a free weekend in London without his wife. It was…well, I’ll leave it at that,” she said with a dreamy smile.
The server delivered their salads, carefully arranging the large plate on the small table and refilling their wineglasses.
“What’s in the diary?” she asked after swallowing a mouthful.
Former lover, my ass? She’s like a bloodhound chasing the diary and jets-off for a romp in the sheets just as we decipher the text? If the guy was in Rome, maybe, but London, no.
He studied her face a few moments longer and was about to ask where they stayed in London to draw her out in a lie, but decided there was nothing for it. Instead, he summarized the diary in between bites of salad, concluding with the tomb in Siwa Oasis.
“The Siwa Oasis? It makes sense. Alexander went there meet the oracle of Ammon and that gave him legitimacy to rule Egypt. I wonder…” she paused. “Most scholars believe Alexander’s tomb is somewhere in Alexandria, but there’s an archaeologist in the late eighties who claims to have found his tomb in Siwa,” she said and tapped on her mobile, searching for something.
“That’s the problem,” said Darwin. “They carted Alexander’s body around for two years after he died in Babylon. The claims for his tomb are all over the middle east.”
“Here it is. I saved the article. It’s a Hellenistic royal tomb with carved lions at the entrance and Greek-style decorations and inscriptions. The archaeologist, a Greek woman, also claims there are inscriptions written by a Ptolemy, one of Alexander’s descendants,” she said.
She held out her mobile for Darwin to look at a photo of the decaying lion sculptures found in the tomb.
“Which Ptolemy? There was more than a dozen, with Cleopatra the last,” said Darwin.
“It doesn’t say. But, problem is, there’re no references to any names.”
“So, it could be any Ptolemaic royal figure. Where’s the site?” asked Darwin.
“Not listed. The article writes that the Egyptian government blocked further access to the site for political reasons. But you said the diary says the tomb is in a mountain and this looks like a flat area,” she said, holding the device out again.
They continued the conversation through bites of salad and, after paying the bill, walked to the Vatican library reading room where Darwin handed Tessa a copy of the diary. She read it while he fetched coffees from the cafeteria. A few minutes later, he returned to find her tapping on her mobile.
“There’s a flight tomorrow morning for Alexandria. I bought us tickets and booked rooms for us at a hotel near the new library of Alexandria,” she said.
“Isn’t this a bit fast?” he asked.
“Is there something you need to do in Rome? The library’s in Egypt. There’s nothing more to find here,” she said.
That afternoon Darwin visited a couple outdoor adventure type stores to buy clothes for Alexandria and its desert beyond. He tried on a dark brown fedora that the salesperson had offered. “You look like Indiana Jones,” she said. He admitted the hat gave the khaki trousers and off-white shirt a retro adventure look, but decided wearing a felt hat in blazing heat would not be comfortable.
Back in the hotel, he had arranged for the hotel to ship his new suit and warmer clothing back to Reykjavík and was packing for Alexandria when his iPhone rang.
“Hey, Barry. Long time no hear,” said Darwin.
“Darwin, are you still in Rome?” asked Barry, sounding urgent.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Lupita’s here in my office. Let me switch this to speaker mode,” said Barry, and Darwin heard rustling papers and then Barry’s voice came back with a hollower sound. “Darwin?”
“Still here.”
“Okay good. Lupita came in my office this morning pretty upset,” said Barry. “Here, you tell him.”
“Hi, Darwin,” said Lupita.
“Hi, Lupita. Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Tessa was here yesterday—”
“What? Why?” Darwin burst out and threw a shirt he was folding.
“She tried to bribe me to get a copy of the diary—
“I knew that sneaky bitch was lying. She told me she went to London to meet an old lover. Sorry Lupita. I cut you off. Go on,” said Darwin.
She continued and described how Tessa posed as someone who wanted to scan damaged scrolls similar to work they had done with the charred Herculaneum scrolls. But the legitimate sounding request then turned into a bribe to get a copy of the deciphered diary. “She made it sound like you and the Vatican had some conspiracy to control the knowledge,” said Lupita.
“Did you give it to her?” asked Darwin.
“No way! I tried to sound sympathetic, but then she gave me an envelope with two-thousand pounds and said I could keep it whether I sent the diary or not. I didn’t know what to do, so I talked to Barry,” said Lupita.
Darwin’s mind raced, trying to figure out what Tessa was up to. He heard Lupita sniff as if she had been moved to tears as Barry offered her some soothing words.
We could ignore her. No, we can’t risk it. She’ll just find some other means to get the original diary. Darwin ran a few more scenarios in his head and decided on the simplest.
“Okay, here’s what I think we should do,” he continued. “I edited the decryption in exactly two places: one, I redacted the part about Alexander’s scroll hidden in the sarcophagus and two, I changed the location of the mountain by substituting the Taurus constellation in the west with Polaris in the north. There’s a mountain that fits the description.”
“Sounds like it will work,” said Barry. “What should we do?”
“I just emailed you both a copy of my changed diary. Lupita, wait for Tessa to contact you. Make it sound like you are thinking about it. Call me when she makes contact, then send her the changed diary you got from me,” said Darwin.
“What about the money?” asked Lupita, sounding very worried.
“Put it in the safe in Barry’s office. Document the conversation you had with Tessa and what we’ve agreed to do. You’ll be fine, Lupita. I promise,” said Darwin.
33
Alexandria, Egypt
The next morning Darwin watched the Italian coastline disappear under the wing of the Airbus 320. Clouds blurred past the window as the jet banked over the Mediterranean Sea towards Alexandria. Rattles in the airframe and various system dings at once gave a pit in-the-stomach feeling and a reminder that all was normal. After a few more minutes, the pilot throttled back to ease the angle of attack on the way to cruising altitude while an announcement told everyone to stay in their seats.
Darwin looked out the window at the white ridges streaking the water a few thousand meters below as a cruise ship labored towards one of the ports on its endless circumnavigation of the Mediterranean playground. Tessa tapped his arm. The flight attendant was taking drink orders.
“Water. No ice,” said Darwin and returned his gaze to the window.
This is all happening too fast. She’s a liar and bribing Lupita... He had thought about abandoning the project, but after talking again with Barry, they decided Darwin needed to go with Tessa to Alexandria. They did not have enough to go to the authorities and, with Lupita taking the cash, they did not want to risk having her accused and deported.
What the hell else is she lying about? I give her the diary, and she decides we need to go to Alexandria today. She’s barely had time to read it, let alone investigate its contents.
Three days ago, he was in Newcastle and today en route to Alexandria. Normally the one in control, or at least the one whose spontaneous actions gave the sense of being in control, Darwin felt himself struggling to keep up. What the hell’s driving her sense of urgency?
He had figured the redacted diary would keep Tessa from abandoning him in the search and give him time to work out a better plan. The changed reference points to the mountain containing the tomb and removal of the part about Alexander’s scroll should have slowed things down. Instead, she’s speeding up. Shit! I need a new plan.
She passed him the cup of water, head rocking to music pumping from her ear buds. He smiled, sipped the water, and put it on the open tray table between them. So far, he knew they were meeting Tessa’s contacts in Alexandria and to see if they could find the location of Alexander’s tomb Hypatia had described.
They expected nothing given the centuries of development, but they planned to work around the ruins of the Serapeum which would give them ground-level access to ancient Alexandria and perhaps useful clues. Finding the lost scrolls in Siwa would be sensational, but proving that Hypatia moved them there would validate the provenance that the scrolls were from the lost library of Alexandria.
Nothing came to him. Merde! Merde! Merde! He emptied the glass and stared out the window as if willing an idea from the clouds veiling the blue-green ocean. His body sagged in the seat as the pilots throttled back to begin the descent. On the horizon, a sand arc marked the edge of the African continent, followed by the farmland of the Nile delta. Verdant fields striped the landscape as if an artist had painted various shades of green on a canvas, searching for the perfect color. Splotches of human civilization clustered tightly to maximize arable land, as this was the breadbasket that fed a nation and kept fruit on the tables of Northern Europe.
The window turned skyward as the plane banked into the landing pattern and, returning to level flight, the lush farmland gave way to desolation that ran over the horizon, reminding Darwin that Egypt that was over ninety-five percent unlivable. Somewhere out there lay a series of oases that sustained human life. Siwa was but an outpost in a desert that could swallow all of Europe with room to spare.
An hour later, they had cleared Egyptian customers and hired a taxi. Chaos reigned on the streets as their driver pulled away from Borg El Arab Airport. Horns flared from every direction as six cars attempted to drive abreast in the space of three lanes, each gap contested with the ferocity of a nine-puppy litter.
Darwin’s anxiety increased at finding himself in a sea of Arabic speakers. While having a facility with languages, he had not been in an Arab country in over five years. He knew basic phrases from working on several digs in Syria and the Sinai Peninsula, but only visited Egypt once, mainly the key sites along the Nile.
I can’t completely depend on her.
From the moment they landed Tessa had taken control beginning with a clothing change. He had looked out the plane’s window a few minutes while taxing to the gate and turned back to see her transformed into a modern Egyptian woman. She had expertly covered up with a turquoise hijab and slipped a few gold rings on her fingers. Once curbside, she had negotiated the taxi price like a flea market veteran.
Get it together. You’re not a university newbie.
He pulled out his iPhone and checked the translation apps and searched his cloud storage account for a cheat-sheet he wrote some years back. He downloaded it and reviewed the basic phrases. Tessa was talking to someone on her mobile in rapid Arabic, and he caught a few words. He felt a glimmer of confidence return.
You’ve done this before. Focus. Don’t be lazy, he thought and looked out the taxi window, practicing the phrases for greetings.
Pulling into the hotel drive, the driver braked hard to avoid a few women who walked obliviously into the car’s path. Darwin heard the driver mutter something that he thought sounded derogatory toward the women, but was not sure as the translation pinged around in his brain.
Tessa sprang forward from her seat and unloosed a fusillade at the driver that continued for a half a minute after he pulled away. The man hunched down behind the seat back to avoid the verbal beating.
“Asshole,” she said as the car disappeared into traffic.
“What was that?” asked Darwin.
“Education, not that it will help. Welcome to the world of men, Darwin. Get my bag,” she said and stalked off toward the lobby.
34
Early the next morning, Darwin ran along the shore as the city came to life, preferring the quiet promise of the new day despite his French heritage of late-night dining and sleeping later. A light onshore breeze carried the fragrance Mediterranean Sea and its skin softening vapor. Fat gulls stood at the water’s edge as if reserving their energy for aggressive panhandling of the tourists later, while the smaller birds ran up and down the beach with each slapping wave.
Endorphins coursed through his limbs, making everything right in Darwin’s world as his feet swept forward in easy effort, chasing his shadow projected by the eastern sunrise. The return would be hotter as the sun god Ra advanced across the heavens.
Alongside him, the traffic on El-Gaish Road flowed free of the incessant one-hand-on-the-horn habit that seemed to possess all the drivers once coming within five meters of each another. But for now, the only other inhabitants sharing the post-dawn calm were fellow seekers of physical and spiritual space. A group of men rolled up their prayer rugs and a few meters farther a mixed group followed a yoga instructor’s lead through various positions. On a basketball court, some older people swept through tai-chi with the grace and coordination of a dance troop.
This was why he ran in the mornings, visible harmony. It always was, he thought. But the full motion of midday blinds us and makes it easier to find conflict, missing what we love. At that thought, Eyrún popped into his head. She’s due out of the NAT in six days, then our holiday in Greece. He envisioned the photo she had texted in her new bikini. Wow. I can’t wait. His pace picked up and, about half an hour later, he finished running and walked down to the water. He bent and braced his hands on his knees to recover from a short sprint as sweat dripped off his nose and pitted the sand.
His thoughts returned to the present. Tessa had been like a Terrier on a hunt since landing yesterday, gathering supplies and preparing for the journey into the dessert. But, so far, she had said nothing about the translation. Running was partly to steel himself for today’s exploration of the few remaining traces of the Library in Alexandria and preparations for the journey to Siwa Oasis. There’s more going on, he told himself. Be on guard.
A few minutes later, he crossed the now much busier road and stepped into a Starbucks where the cacophony of music, espresso machines and human voices drove away any sense of calm. The queue for ordering better resembled a scrum. This was natural selection in all its glory—only the fittest would get their coffee before the call to mid-morning prayer. Darwin shouldered in and a woman stepped on his foot. He smiled and held his ground.
While Darwin jostled with the locals for a cup of coffee, Tessa stood at the window in a penthouse overlooking the harbor. She drank tea from a fine porcelain cup and watched a cruise ship arc outward into the Mediterranean Sea. Servants cleared the breakfast dishes while Nahla took a call at the opposite site of the apartment. Floor to ceiling glass offered a 360-degree view of Alexandria, but except for the ocean, Tessa felt it was much like her view of Rome—rooftops and TV satellite antennas.
The ancient city of Alexandria existed under a modern mountain of concrete. Some twenty kilometers to the east, obscured by haze, lay farmland. To the south and west was desert survivable only to those who could navigate between the pin-prick-sized oases in the Martian landscape.
Wondrous finds lay beneath the city and in long-buried crypts, pocketing the desert. Unfortunately, no maps existed or had been lost to time. And as much as archaeologists plotted and searched, many discoveries were accidental, like the golden mummies in Bahariya Oasis. A local man’s donkey tripped on the exposed edge of a tomb, tossing him to the dirt. His misfortunate tumble opened a hole, exposing a hundred gold gilded mummies in the structures below.
Sometimes, archaeology resembled gambling where luck combined with skill came up a winner. But you can’t win if you don’t play, and I have to play this carefully, thought Tessa. She knew Nahla was only interested in Alexander’s tomb and its valuable objects. Scrolls were valuable for sure, but to a smaller group of collectors.
“I never tire of this view, but I’m thinking of moving. Too much of that floating plague,” Nahla nodded toward the massive barge-hotel. She had finished her call and now stood next to Tessa. “What’s your plan?” she continued as she turned her gaze toward the silver dome of the Bibliotheca Alexandrina, the twenty-first century incarnation of its ancient namesake.
“We begin at the Serapeum and retrace Hypatia’s route to Siwa,” said Tessa.
“Waste of time. Just go to Siwa. That’s where you say the library is,” said Nahla.
“True, but I don’t trust Darwin. I need to find out what he knows.”
“You think he’s hiding something?”
“I know he’s hiding something. Part of the translation doesn’t read right. The Greek is too ancient, too perfect like someone who only studied it in textbooks wrote it,” said Tessa.
“Why would he do that?” asked Nahla.
“I’m not sure what Darwin’s playing at, but he says he wants to give it away to a museum when we find it,” said Tessa.
They watched the ship shrink toward the horizon, and Tessa waited for Nahla’s response. She wanted help, but knew better than to ask for it.
“No,” said Nahla after a long minute. “Giving the library away is not good. You better take Fathi with you and besides, he’s from Siwa.”
Fathi Hamdy was as seductive as a snake charmer, but lethal when it served his purposes.
Tessa smiled while riding the lift down from Nahla’s penthouse. This is coming together nicely, she thought. Fathi had worked with her on several digs that yielded priceless objects, and she had hoped to bring him into this project. Besides his many talents, being a Siwa native would also give them an advantage with local resources.
Fathi had been a bright student and fortunate to study in Cairo where he caught the eye of the chief of Egyptian antiquities while working on a project in Saqqara, the site of the step pyramids. They brought him into an elite team of archeologists where Tessa met him during her graduate work and remembered him as playful, always smiling yet passionate about the need for change.
