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    Kemamonit
    Kemamonit
    Kemamonit
    Ebook131 pages1 hour

    Kemamonit

    By Paul Edwards

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A disgraced archeologist finds the tomb of an ancient Egyptian sorceress.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPaul Edwards
    Release dateDec 22, 2011
    ISBN9781465978783
    Kemamonit

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      Book preview

      Kemamonit - Paul Edwards

      SMASHWORDS EDITION

      PUBLISHED BY:

      Paul Edwards on Smashwords

      Kemamonit

      Copyright © 2011 Paul Edwards

      All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

      Smashwords Edition License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work

      Kemamonit

      Chapter one

      God this is hot, Professor Smith thought as he took a long drink from his water bottle. He surveyed the empty desert before him, all he saw was sand and the odd outcrop of rock and boulders.

      He turned around and watched the Egyptian laborers hauling up dirt and rubble from a large trench.

      Publish or don’t come back. Publish what? A thesis on mummified cats, he thought about his recent meeting with the Minister of Antiquities. The meeting had not gone well, the Minister had found out about the small bits of pottery he had unearthed at his dig last season.

      The pottery shards had not seemed very important at the time until one of his eager students had noticed the partial seal of Pharaoh Khufu on one of them.

      If only the stupid shit had kept his mouth shut, a bolt of anger shot through him.

      That was all that had turned up at the dig, that and a pile of mummified cats.

      If I wrote a paper on a pottery shard I’d be a laughingstock, he thought, I didn’t become an archaeologist to waste my time with minutia nobody gives shit about.

      The professor thought about his favorite movie as a child, the main character a swashbuckling archaeologist had inspired him to become what he was now.

      He had not been naïve enough to think that his career would mirror the films main character, but he had been shocked to find out just how uninspired his peers would be.

      No sense of adventure, just want to argue about minutia, whole careers wasted writing about nothing, he thought.

      He had tried to hide the pottery shards by miscataloging them when he prepared them for shipment to Cairo. Unfortunately one of his students had gotten drunk and blabbed about what they had found when they had returned to the city.

      The Minister had rewarded him by sending him to a new dig site in the middle of the desert. It was miles from any known ancient settlements.

      It looks good from orbit, the Minister had said showing him a satellite photo.

      The photo had shown a bunch of random lines etched into the desert. The professor was pretty sure that if there were anything to find here this would have been the last place he would’ve been sent.

      I’ll do my penance, he thought.

      He walked back to the large trench the laborers had cleared out, he saw his foreman Mohammad talking to one his student volunteers a few feet away. Mohammad knew more about ancient Egyptian archaeology then anyone he had ever met.

      If he had had the same opportunities as me, he could have been anything, the professor thought to himself.

      Find anything interesting?

      Good sand easy to dig, the Minister will be quite happy with our fine hole, inshallah.

      He’s probably looking at the satellite photos as we speak. You haven’t found the tip of a pyramid yet have you?

      Mohammad laughed.

      So far they had found absolutely nothing, not even the usual cigarette butts and garbage that turned up in most sites. The ground gave every indication of having never been inhabited in any era.

      Lets shut it down for the day, no sense killing ourselves for nothing, the Professor told Mohammad.

      Ok Charlie, Mohammad replied.

      The group sat around the cooking fire drinking bottled beer and eating their meal of canned food. The beer was still cold since this was their first day digging and the ice they had packed it in hadn’t melted completely.

      Charlie didn’t usually bring alcohol on digs, he new from experience that it caused more problems then it solved. He also tried to be sensitive to the laws and customs of the countries he was working in, alcohol was tolerated in Egypt but being a Muslim country it was frowned upon.

      We’re not gonna find anything anyway, so who cares if we’re half cut, he had said to Mohammad when they were loading the vehicles.

      The Egyptian gods would be pleased, but you disappoint the prophet, he had replied in his enigmatic way.

      Charlie had always thought it must be difficult to be Egyptian, following a foreign religion while being surrounded by the ruins of their own spectacular heritage.

      So professor what are we looking for here? this from an eager young female student who had never been on a dig before.

      I’m personally looking for redemption, but failing that there is a small chance of finding some remnants of the battles between ancient Egypt and Libya.

      Do you think we’ll find skeletons? The eager student had an excited look on her face.

      Charlie envied her, he had been like her once. He would wake up early in the morning with the hope of finding something new and spectacular, and never be disappointed when nothing was found.

      He had found many interesting things and had started to get a small inkling of what humanity must have been like in ancient times. He had even had epiphanies when he had discovered things that still influenced people to this day.

      He had never found anything spectacular though, and as he had gotten older he started to realize that he was becoming much the same as the archaeologists he had disliked in his youth.

      He now knew that archaeology was a collective effort and that every small discovery was important in the whole scheme of things, but that had not been the reason he had picked this career.

      Shelly isn’t it?

      Yes, she replied.

      Well Shelly I don’t know what we’ll find, but you have a good attitude. If in a few years you’re wondering whether to do this for a career, remember how you feel right now, that’s why we do it.

      Shelly blushed and smiled an embarrassed smile.

      The group chatted some more for an hour or so before they crawled into their tents and went to sleep.

      Charlie stayed, staring at the embers of the dying fire for another hour while drinking more beer.

      He lay down on the sand and stared upwards at the stars with a beer bottle balanced on his chest. It was a moonless night and the stars were exceptionally bright, for an instant he felt as if he was an ancient person oblivious to the knowledge of modern man.

      They are so profound, no wonder they have influenced us since the dawn of mankind, he thought.

      Charlie stood up and put the empty bottle back into the beer cooler, he then walked to his tent crawled in and went to sleep.

      Charlie woke up to the sound of yelling, he had a mild hangover and was a bit disoriented.

      He listened closely trying to discern what was being said, he heard Mohammad’s voice talking hurriedly in Arabic. He spoke Arabic very badly so he was only able to discern the gist of what was being said.

      Get the professor! Get the professor! is what he heard.

      Mohammad never called him professor, Mohammad never sounded excited either for that matter.

      God I hope its not bandits, he thought as he searched for his ancient revolver.

      I don’t even have bullets.

      He had never fired the gun, it was a navy colt from the American civil war, and he had found that he was able to get it past most countries customs inspectors as a collector’s item because of its age.

      It used paper cartridges, which he had never gotten around to purchasing.

      Don’t even know if they still make them, he thought as he found the guns decorative box under a pile of books.

      He pulled the gun out of the box as he heard his tent flap being pulled open. He turned and saw Mohammad’s head sticking inside.

      Mohammad looked at the revolver in his hand and started grinning.

      You will cause the bandits to laugh themselves to death, he said.

      Hey, I can’t get an AK through customs. Is it bandits?

      Bandits? Here? No one comes here its just sand and us.

      What’s with all the yelling then?

      "We have found

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