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Will Adams: The Alexander Cipher

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Will Adams The Alexander Cipher

The Alexander Cipher: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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"That's even worse. Christ!" He looked around, his face suffused with fear. Working for Hassan would do that to people.

"I'm sorry," said Knox. "I'll stay away from her."

"You'd better. Trust me, you get on Hassan's wrong side, you and your mate Rick can forget about your little project, whatever the fuck it is."

"Keep your voice down."

"I'm just warning you." He wagged a finger as if he had more to say, but then he turned and walked away.

Knox watched him go. He didn't like Max; Max didn't like him. But they had a valuable relationship. Max ran a dive school, and Knox was a good, reliable dive instructor who knew how to charm tourists into recommending him to others they met on their travels-and he worked for peanuts, too. In return, Max let him use his boat and side-scan sonar for what he disparagingly referred to as their "little project." Knox smiled wryly. If Max ever found out what he and Rick were after, he wouldn't be so dismissive.

Knox had arrived in Sharm nearly three years ago, needing a place to lie low for a while. While he was sitting by the seafront one evening enjoying a beer, a powerfully built Australian man had come up to him. "Mind if I join you?" he had asked.

"Help yourself."

"I'm Rick."

"Daniel, but everyone calls me Knox."

"Yeah, so I've been told."

Knox squinted at him. "You've been asking?"

"They say you're an archaeologist."

"Used to be."

"You gave it up to become a dive instructor?" Rick sounded skeptical.

"It gave me up," explained Knox. "A bust-up with the establishment."

"Ah." He nodded at Knox's arm. "Interesting tattoo you've got there."

"You think?"

Rick nodded. "If I show you something, you'll keep it to yourself, right?"

"Sure," said Knox.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a matchbox. Inside, embedded in cotton wool, was a fat golden teardrop about an inch long, with an eyelet at the narrow end for a clasp or a chain. Specks of pink were accreted from where it had apparently been chiseled out of coral, and on its base a sixteen-pointed star had been faintly inscribed. "I found it a couple of years back," said Rick. "I thought you might be able to tell me more about it. I mean, it's Alexander's symbol, right?"

"Yes. Where'd you find it?"

"Sure!" snorted Rick. "Like I'm going to tell you that." He took it back and replaced it jealously in its matchbox, which he returned to his pocket. "Well? Any idea?"

"It could be anything," said Knox. "A tassel for a robe, a drinking cup, something like that. An earring."

"What?" frowned Rick. "Alexander wore earrings?"

"The star doesn't mean it belonged to him personally. Just to his household."

"Oh." He looked disappointed.

Knox frowned. "And you found it in these reefs, yes?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"It's odd, that's all. Alexander never came near here. Nor did his men."

Rick snorted. "And I thought you said you were an archaeologist! Even I know he came to Egypt. He went to visit that place out in the desert."

"The Oracle of Ammon in Siwa Oasis. Yes. But he didn't travel via Sharm, believe me. He cut across the north coast of Sinai."

"Oh. And that was his only visit, was it?"

"Yes, except for…" And Knox's heart suddenly skipped as a wild idea occurred to him. "Jesus Christ!" he muttered.

"What?" asked Rick, excitedly.

"No, no, it couldn't be."

"What? Tell me."

Knox shook his head decisively. "No. I'm sure it's nothing."

"Come on, mate. You've got to tell me now."

"Only if you tell me where you found it."

Rick squinted shrewdly at him. "You reckon there's more? That's what you're thinking, yeah?"

"Not exactly, but it's possible."

Rick hesitated. "And you're a diver, yeah?"

"Yes."

"I could do with a buddy. The place isn't easy on my own. If I tell you, we'll go look together, yeah?"

"Sure."

"Okay. Then spill."

"Fine. But you've got to remember, this is pure speculation. The chances of this being what I think it is-"

"I get the point. Now, spill."

"Long version or short?"

Rick shrugged. "I've got nowhere I need to be."

"I'll need to give you some background first. Alexander only came to Egypt once during his life, like I said, and then only for a few months. Across north Sinai to the Nile Delta, then south to Memphis, the old capital, just south of Cairo, where he was crowned. After that it was north again to found Alexandria, westwards along the coast to Paraetonium, modern Marsa Matruh, then due south through the desert to Siwa. He and his party got lost, apparently. According to one account, they'd have died of thirst except that two talking snakes guided them to the oasis."

"Those talking snakes-always there when you need them."

"Aristobulus tells a more plausible story, that they followed a pair of crows. Spend any time in the desert, you're pretty much certain to see some brown-necked ravens. They're about the only birds you will see in many places. They often travel in pairs. And they're cheeky buggers, too; if they can't find any snakes or locusts to eat, they'll happily scout around your campsite looking for scraps, before heading off back to the nearest oasis. So if you were to follow them…"

Rick nodded. "Like dolphins in the Sea of Sand."

"If you want to put it that way," agreed Knox. "Anyway, they got Alexander to Siwa, where he consulted the oracle, and then it was back into the desert again; but this time he headed east along the caravan trails to Bahariyya Oasis, where there's a famous temple dedicated to him, and then back to Memphis. That was pretty much that. It was off beating up Persians again. But then, after he died, he was brought back to Egypt for burial."

"Ah! And you think this was from then?"

"I think it's possible. You've got to bear something in mind. This was Alexander the Great we're talking about. He led thirty thousand Macedonians across the Hellespont to avenge Xerxes' invasion of Greece, knowing that he'd face armies ten times larger. He hammered the Persians not once, not twice, but three times, and then he just kept on going. He fought countless battles, and he won them all, making himself the most powerful man the world has ever seen. When his best friend, Hephaiston, died, he sent him on his way on top of a beautifully carved wooden pyre eighty meters high-like building Sydney Opera House, then putting a match to it, just to enjoy the blaze. So you can imagine, his men would have insisted on something pretty special when Alexander himself died."

"I get you."

"A pyre was out of the question. Alexander's body was far too precious to be burned. Apart from anything else, one of the duties of a new Macedonian king was to bury his predecessor. So whoever possessed Alexander's body had a serious claim to kingship, especially as Alexander hadn't left an obvious successor, and everyone was jostling for position."

Rick nodded at Knox's empty glass. "You fancy another?"

"Sure. Thanks."

"Two beers!" shouted Rick at the barman. "Sorry. You were saying, people jostling for position…"

"Yes. The throne was pretty much open. Alexander had a brother, but he was a half-wit. And his wife, Roxanne, was pregnant, but no one could be sure she'd have a son; and anyway, Roxanne was a barbarian, and the Macedonians hadn't conquered the known world to be ruled by a half-breed. So there was an assembly of the army in Babylon, and they came to a compromise. The half-wit brother and the unborn child, if he turned out to be a boy-which he did, Alexander the Fourth-would rule together; but the various regions of the empire would be administered for them by a number of satraps all reporting to a triumvirate. You with me?"

"Yes."

"One of Alexander's generals was a man named Ptolemy. He was the one who made the claim about the talking snakes leading Alexander to Siwa, as it happens. But don't let that fool you-he was a very shrewd, very capable man. He realized that without Alexander to hold it together, the empire was bound to fragment, and he wanted Egypt for himself. It was rich, out of the way, unlikely to get caught up in other people's wars. So he got himself awarded the satrapy, bedded himself in, and eventually became pharaoh, founding the Ptolemaic dynasty that ended with Cleopatra. Okay?"

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