Edward Whittemore - Nile Shadows

I can wait. Where are we going?

It's a surprise, a secret destination.

Liffy hummed a music-hall tune, a habit he apparently shared with Vivian. Joe gazed out the window, once more bothered by the blurred sensation in his mind. They seemed to be driving out of Cairo toward the desert, where a gathering of light lay on the horizon. The road turned and Joe caught a glimpse of the pyramids against the dim sky.

You weren't joking? We're going to the pyramids?

The dawn patrol, murmured Liffy. We're heading toward the dawn of Egyptian civilization, and although five thousand years have passed since the pyramids were built, we still may be in for a surprise. At least I hope so. If we're lucky. .

***

They lay on a rise of sand, the pyramids and the Sphinx in full view in front of them, a deep red glow above the desert to the east. Liffy handed the long spyglass to Joe.

Now adjust the spyglass to the Sphinx, said Liffy Have him yet?

Almost.

Beautiful?

Exquisite. The light.

Yes. Now look at the right eye of the Sphinx and concentrate on that. What do you see?

Shadows, Liffy.

Fine, keep looking. Shadows assume unexpected shapes and that can be intriguing.

But what am I supposed to see?

Who knows for sure. That odd-looking mythical creature with his human head and his animal body has always been a riddle, unlike the rest of us. Just keep looking.

Joe did so, feeling the cool sand against his chest and smelling the freshness of the desert, his thoughts far from any war.

Nothing yet? asked Liffy.

More light.

Good. We could all use a little more of that. Just keep looking.

Joe strained to see through the spyglass. For a moment he thought he saw something moving in the right eye of the Sphinx. A flicker, shadows, he couldn't be sure. Perhaps the sun rising toward the horizon was causing shadows to play on the worn ancient stones.

Beside him Liffy began to whisper.

Last night, remember? You talked a lot about Stern and what he means to you, and why you came here.

You also said you'd heard about that friend of Stern's, old Menelik Ziwar, who was an Egyptologist in the last century. You said you'd heard stories about him when you were living in Jerusalem. But did you also know old Menelik had found time to do some serious poking around inside the Sphinx? Did anyone ever mention that to you?

No, whispered Joe, staring intently through the spyglass, trying harder and harder to see, not believing what seemed to be happening out there.

Well he did, whispered Liffy. Old Menelik decided he wanted to do a potter of sorts inside the Sphinx in the last century, lovable old mole that he was, and so he had a small tunnel dug from the outside, right into the Sphinx. The entrance to the tunnel is hidden as it has always been, and it leads to a tiny lookout old Menelik fashioned for himself right inside the riddle itself. . What do you see?

Something moving, whispered Joe.

In the right eye?

Yes.

A stone being removed?

It could be.

And now?

It looks like a face, a head, appearing.

Where?

Right in the middle of the eye.

On his back on the sand beside Joe, gazing straight up at the sky, Liffy sighed happily.

In the pupil of the eye, you mean?

Yes.

It looks like a face, you say, a head? And it's becoming the pupil of the right eye of the Sphinx? Still shadowy?

Yes.

Do the shadows have a shape you can recognize?

No, it's too far away. Too small and indistinct.

Of course, the Sphinx's a riddle. Look harder.

Joe did so. He leaned forward on his elbows, holding his breath, straining to see through the spyglass. All at once he whistled softly.

Impossible.

Beside him, Liffy closed his eyes, a blissful smile on his face.

But it is real, whispered Joe, I can recognize him. Oh my God, it's Stern. Stern . .

Ah, murmured Liffy, he wasn't away after all. He's there watching the sunrise from his favorite perch.

You can't always count on it anymore, Ahmad says, not the way things are these days. Just once in a great while can you find him at it… But it's a sight, isn't it, Joe? Something worth looking for and waiting for and hoping will happen, our very own Stern gazing out through the eye of the Sphinx at dawn. . and it doesn't happen much these days, according to Ahmad, so we were lucky to catch Stern at it. . very lucky. Unless Stern knew you were arriving in Cairo. Could he have known that?

No, I didn't tell him.

And Bletchley wouldn't have said anything to him?

Oh no.

Are you sure?

Yes, positive.

Liffy hummed. He smiled.

Lovely then. It's chance, pure chance, and I was the one who was able to show it to you. . Ahhh, the wonders of life, the miracles. Sometimes I feel as light as a dove on the dawn. Ahhh. . .

— 7-

Monastery

Liffy was surprised when Joe told him he had a daytime meeting coming up with Bletchley. According to Liffy, the Monks were notorious for always conducting their briefings and meetings at night.

Strictly at night, said Liffy. Darkness is the sea they swim in. Do you realize that in all my time here, I've never once been to the Monastery except at night? But if Bletchley's really taking you into the desert to be briefed by Whatley, in broad daylight, at least you may not have to watch those awful films they show out there.

Films? asked Joe, pouring himself more gin. The two of them were sitting in the small crumbling courtyard behind the Hotel Babylon, a narrow enclosure strewn with rubble and old newspapers and piles of ancient debris.

On the dangers of venereal disease, said Liffy. Those same films they show back in England to young army recruits before they're sent overseas. Noses missing. . no eyes. . holes in heads going nowhere.

Just terrible. When you arrive at the Monastery at night you have to sit through a couple of those films in the cloisters first, before you're allowed inside. Ugliness by starlight, in other words, to put you in the appropriate frame of mind before you enter the black bowels of the place. It's a kind of ritual they have out there, and not the only one from what I hear. . Just blackness everywhere. Disgusting.

Joe sipped his gin, thinking how the mere mention of the Monastery always disturbed Liffy so profoundly, in a way Liffy himself seemed unable to explain.

But what is it that bothers you so much about the Monastery? asked Joe.

Liffy shuddered and clasped his hands together, twisting his fingers around themselves. For a moment he stared at his fingers in horror, as if their slithering movements reflected his feelings.

But that's just it, Joe, I don't know, I don't know. When you first arrive out there everything seems normal enough. You look around you and it seems to be just an old fortress or an old monastery or whatever it was, that an intelligence unit has made its headquarters. Just a secret place where agents come and go in the darkness, carrying out the commonplace horrors of wartime. But somehow there's more to it than that, a sickness of the soul, and after a while you begin to sense it.

Well can you give me an example, Liffy? Something specific that makes you feel that way?

Liffy waved his hands in the air.

Take the maps, for instance, those copies of maps from the fourth century. Whatley has them all over the walls in one of the cells, along with contemporary maps showing the German-occupied areas of Europe and North Africa. And there's a copy of the Athanasian Creed, prominently displayed, with symbols in the margins that correspond to symbols on the maps, both the ancient ones and the modern ones, as if there were some sort of connection between the two. .