Читать книгу Familiar Mirage - Caroline Burnes - Страница 11

The world is a strange and wondrous place! Alexandria, Egypt! Imagine. I stepped off that big jet plane and into a world where humanoids have finally come to their senses—they’re all cat worshipers.

My fellow felines are all around me, lounging in the airport as if they owned the place. Of course, cats are so far advanced in thought and spirit that we understand that “owning” anything is ridiculous. But it is refreshing to see a culture where humans know their place.

Ah, Egypt. Home of the Sphinx, Cleopatra, the Sahara Desert and a million and one magical dreams. Peter, my humanoid and veterinarian, is here to discuss the latest programs for helping felines control their population. It’s going to be a hard sell, but as the populations of humans and animals swell on the planet, we’re all going to have to do our part.

There go Peter and the lovely Eleanor with our bags. I suppose I should follow along like a good kitty. I can sightsee once we’re checked into our hotel.

Now who is that little pixie with the fire in her eyes? My goodness, she’s handing out orders like a drill sergeant. And she has a whole troop to do her bidding. Dig those khaki shorts and those utilitarian hiking boots. All she needs is a pith helmet and she can sally forth into the desert in search of Dr. Livingston. But she is cute as a button.

Normally I go for the taller model humanette, but there’s something about Miss Explorer that just makes me want to watch her. It’s her determination. I can almost smell it. She’s here on a mission, and nothing is going to stand in her way. I think I’ll sidle over, do a little eavesdropping and see what she’s up to.

Hmm. She’s an anthropologist, and she’s brought enough equipment to examine the tombs of the pharaohs. I just love women who dig up bones. That’s sort of my job—digging up bones and clues and anything else that helps solve a mystery.

So she’s looking for a lost civilization. Interesting, and not just to me. There’s a man behind that pillar who’s just as curious about Miss Explorer as I am. In fact, I’d say he’s even more interested.

My, my. This man reminds me of nothing if not a hawk. And Miss Explorer seems to be his chosen meal. He’s watching her as if he’s about to dive down and attack at any moment.

At last she’s got all her stuff together, and all those people who seem to be with her. There must be five people in her party, and from the looks of them, they all work outdoors. They’re moving to the bus to go into town. Good. The man who was watching her is going in the opposite direction. Perhaps he was just a pickpocket.

Nah! I’d be willing to bet my elegant black hide that he’s not a common thief. The way he was watching Miss Explorer sort of made my hide itch.

I guess the only noble thing to do is get on the bus with Miss Explorer and head into town. Peter and Eleanor are staying at the Abbula, the ritziest hotel in town. I can find them there in time for dinner.

You know, I love this place. I can stroll around and no one pays the least bit of attention to me. There are cats everywhere. Some really hot little purr-furs, too. It’s a little-known fact, but Cleopatra was a cat in a former life. That’s when she learned to become such a seductress. She had a definite appreciation for her feline nature, and boy, did Mark Antony learn about it the hard way! I see one long, elegant black puss that might have a bit of the Cleopatra bloodline in her veins. But I have to behave. My heart belongs to the beautiful Clotilde, and I would never betray her trust.

I’m on the bus and settled just beneath the feet of the intrepid female explorer. The other members of her crew are calling her Beth. Now that’s a nice sensible name. I’ll just have to keep tabs on her for a little while to make sure that man from the airport isn’t following her.

Eleanor and Peter will be worried, but I’ll be back with them by dinnertime—and that’s one promise I intend to keep. The last time they took me abroad and I disappeared in Ireland, they said they were never taking me out of the country again. I can’t screw up my second chance at international travel, or they really won’t let me out of Washington.

BETH BRADSHAW felt as if her body was on the verge of rebellion. She was exhausted. It had taken all of her energy to get her band of archaeologists and anthropologists onto the plane in New York and down in Alexandria. It was only when the jet had begun its descent and she’d looked out the window and seen the jewel of the Mediterranean shimmering like a blue opal beneath her that she realized she was actually about to land in Egypt. After months and months of planning, the real adventure was about to begin.

As the bus lumbered through the crowded streets of the city, Beth looked out the window at the passing sights. It was as if she was in a dream. The streets were full of men and women in the flowing robes of the Middle Eastern culture, though there were a few in western garb. Dark eyes gazed back at hers with mixed expressions of interest, curiosity and mild amusement.

And cats were all over the place.

She felt something brush against her feet and leaned down to discover a big black feline purring against her ankles.

She sighed. She wasn’t particularly fond of cats. She was more a dog person. Cats had a streak of arrogance that left her feeling cool toward them. Dogs were always glad for a pat and some attention. Sort of like herself. Yep, she was definitely a dog person, while her best friend and self-appointed sister, Amelia, was the cat person.

“Beth, I thought our guide was going to meet us in the airport.”

She looked up to find John Gilmore standing over her. She was already exhausted and John was an energy drain. No matter what was happening, he always found fault and something to worry about obsessively. “The guide knows the hotel we’re staying at. I’m sure he’ll find us there.”

“But he said he was going to meet us in the airport. It upsets me that he didn’t show. We’re going deep into the desert with this man. We have to be able to trust him. Is he reliable?”

It was a question Beth had asked herself, but as she looked around the bus and saw that all her employees were listening, she knew she had to show absolute faith in the missing Omar Dukhan—even if she wanted to string him up for failing to live up to his word.

“Mr. Dukhan has an impeccable reputation as a guide. I’m sure there’s a reason he didn’t meet us in the airport. Once I talk to him, I’m certain I’ll be satisfied with his explanation.”

“And if you’re not?” John asked.

“Then I’ll find another guide.” She looked around, meeting the eyes of the four other members of her crew. “I won’t risk your lives or mine with someone I can’t rely on.” She forced a smile. “Many of you have worked for me before. I believe you call me Mama Beth behind my back, because I tend to mother my crew.” She lifted an eyebrow and waited for the denials that didn’t come. “Good. You know I’ll take care of everything.” She refocused on John. “I’ll handle it, okay? Please don’t worry anymore about it.”

She watched as he returned to his seat, his face drawn with worry. He fretted over the smallest things, but he was the very best excavator she’d ever worked with. And he was a top-notch anthropologist, too. He would be invaluable in helping to establish the culture of the secret city—when she found it.

For a moment she allowed herself to slip into the dream. She was standing in the middle of a temple with an obelisk that depicted Ra, the sun god worshiped in ancient Egypt for thousands of years.

Beside the obelisk was a limestone statue of an exotic creature—a lovely feminine form with the head of a cat. Con, the mythic goddess, queen of a very secret cult.

Many Egyptologists believed that Con was a legend, as were so many of the gods and goddesses in ancient civilizations. But Beth knew better. Con had been a living, breathing woman, and she’d wielded tremendous power because of her special gift. She was a seer, a woman who had the power to view the future. And Beth believed—and intended to prove—that Con had lived in the Libyan Desert with her female followers, a tribe of women with the legendary skills of the Amazons and the added gift of second sight, a talent they’d used to manipulate the future.

As always, her heart began to race with the idea of finding the village that everyone else said was fiction.

“It’s there,” Beth whispered to herself. “It’s there and I’m going to find it.”

And become world-famous as a researcher and anthropologist, to boot, she added in her thoughts.

“Must be a nice fantasy you’re having,” Mauve Parker said as she plopped into the seat beside Beth, wiping sweat from beneath her bangs. “Doubtless about someplace cool with lots of shady trees. Why is it that ancient civilizations always seemed to thrive in hot, dry climates where there aren’t any trees?”

Beth laughed easily. “Only a girl from Alabama would miss trees. Anyway, my fantasy is right here in Egypt. We’re in the secret village, and there’s a temple where the inhabitants worshiped Ra and Con.”

“Sounds nice, but sort of ordinary,” Mauve teased.

“Everything is perfectly preserved.” Beth said the last with big eyes and emphasis.

“Once we find it and reveal it, that won’t be the case for long,” Mauve said with a touch of bitterness.

“I know. Once we reveal the site, it becomes part of the public domain. It won’t be our private discovery. But we’ll have it all to ourselves for a while.”

“Long enough to do our research and prepare our papers, right?” Mauve asked.

“Right,” Beth said.

“Can I ask a question?” Mauve put a hand on Beth’s knee.

“Sure.”

“You never said where you got the financial backing for this trip. It’s not like you to keep secrets, Beth. Is there a reason you’re not telling?”

There was a very good reason. The man who’d agreed to pick up the tab for the expedition had insisted on absolute privacy. He had made it very clear that he would withdraw all funding if he were ever linked to the project.

“Competition.” Beth finally said as her gaze strayed to John Gilmore.

“Gilmore? He can’t hold a candle to you,” Mauve said. “He’s an excellent detail man and he’s good at interpreting the minutiae, but John can’t see the big picture. He’s always going to be second-in-command. If not to you, then to someone else.”

“He doesn’t see it that way,” Beth said.

“He wouldn’t. We’re just lucky to have him on the diving end of it. Hard to believe someone who counts rubber bands and paper clips like an accountant is so fearless underwater.”

“True.” Beth had learned long ago that conflicting character traits couldn’t always be explained. She’d given up trying.

“What do you think you’ll find in the submerged cities in the Mediterranean?”

“The clues that will lead us to the City of Con.” She spoke so matter-of-factly that her friend was apparently shocked.

“Beth, you’re staking your career on this.”

“I know,” Beth said a lot more calmly than she felt.

“What if we don’t find the city?”

“I can always go back to the States and continue my research in Arizona.”

“But—”

“But everyone will know I failed?” Beth said. She’d rehearsed this answer a million times. “I guess I finally decided that it was better for people to know I’d failed than for me to know I’d never tried.”

Mauve’s eyebrows arched. “You’ve really changed. You used to play it so safe. Now you’re this bold adventurer.”

Beth’s laughter was soft and pleasant. “Hardly. I’m thirty-two, Mauve. We both are. If we’re going to make our mark, we have to do it now. In another ten years, we may not be able to hold up physically to the rigors of this kind of search.”

“So true,” Mauve said.

Beth knew they were both thinking of several of their colleagues who’d had to retire from the field and assume teaching positions. The grueling life of living in tents in heat and freezing temperatures, and the physical labor required eventually took a toll on everyone in the field.

“When do we head out on the water?” Mauve asked eagerly.

“First thing tomorrow. I want to do the underwater exploration in no more than three days and then head into the desert.”

Mauve nodded. “Your will is my command,” she said jokingly, then stood up as the bus stopped in front of an elegant and ancient hotel.

OMAR DUKHAN watched the arrival of the archaeologists from the lobby of the hotel. He knew who he was looking for—he’d seen them in the airport. And he didn’t like what he saw.

Beth Bradshaw certainly wasn’t the woman he thought she’d be. First of all, she was petite, with shiny mahogany hair and brown eyes, and she looked far too delicate to be leading a major dig. At first glance, he’d assumed she was someone’s daughter!

He’d also noted the equipment that had come with the crew. It was state-of-the-art and brand-new. Someone had spent a lot of money on this trip. This was a serious effort, not some college adventure funded by grants.

It all added up to trouble for him.

He watched as Beth organized the unloading of the equipment, and took in the different attitudes of her crew members. He noted immediately the stiff spine of the man. He also saw the friendship in the eyes of the woman with the bangs. She would be Beth’s ally.

Omar made sure that he stayed out of sight as the crew registered and had the bellman load up their bags. It was only when Beth stepped into the center of the lobby and began to slowly scan the vast room that he stepped out from behind the palm tree where he’d remained secluded.

“Miss Bradshaw,” he said, walking forward and extending his hand. “I was delayed earlier. A problem with arranging for the camels.”

“Not a serious problem, I hope,” she said, worry evident in her eyes.

He took her hand and felt the smallest pulse of…something. She was a vital woman—he could feel it in her handshake. She was very much like Leah, a mare he’d chosen for his own. Leah was deceptive, standing patiently outside his tent for hours. But once he was on her back, she was the wind. She had a spirit she felt no need to demonstrate—until it was needed.

“No, not a serious problem. Everything has been taken care of.” He held her hand a fraction of a moment longer than necessary. She withdrew her own hand slowly, her gaze locked with his.

“Mr. Dukhan,” she said, a slight flush touching her fair skin. “I was a little worried.”

“I apologize,” he said, picking up her hand again and bringing it to his lips. He lowered his head in respect as he kissed the back of her hand lightly in the European style.

When he looked up, he saw that his gesture had done little to reassure Beth Bradshaw. The flush had deepened and her eyes were huge.

“It’s okay,” she said, again pulling her hand out of his grasp. “Everything is fine now?”

“Absolutely. Your expedition will go off without a hitch. Are you still planning on following the original path?” He saw that she was instantly more comfortable once she was talking about her work.

“Tomorrow morning we’re diving into the ruined cities that were recently discovered off the coast.”

“Ah, the scientists believe that an earthquake may have sent the cities tumbling into the sea,” he said, watching the surprise cross her face at his knowledge.

“Yes. I guess it was a big story in all the newspapers.”

“Egypt is a land where the past is often of more interest than the present. Or the future,” he said, unable to keep a hint of harshness out of his voice. “Most of my countrymen pay attention to archaeological finds. They will bring more tourists into our country. The economy will grow.”

“I see,” Beth said.

“Do you?” he asked, stepping closer to her. Did she have any idea what would really happen to his land, his people, if she should make a major archaeological find? He doubted it, and he also doubted that she would care.

“Tomorrow we’ll make the dives,” Beth said, faltering only slightly. “Once we conclude that, we’ll begin the overland trek. From the clues I’ve discovered, I think we’ll be heading somewhere close to the oasis, as I said in my correspondence to you.”

“Fine,” Omar said. “Then I will meet you here tomorrow evening.”

“Thank you,” Beth said.

Omar turned quickly, his desert robe flowing around his legs, and walked into the night. He had gone several blocks before he realized he wasn’t certain of his destination. More than anything he wanted to get back to the desert, back to his people, his way of life. He hated the city. And he hated the chaos that Beth Bradshaw and her colleagues were so determined to bring to his people.

She would never find the City of Con. For centuries he and his tribe had protected the secret. It was their heritage, their place to worship and to revere their ancestors. The secrets of Con were theirs to protect against the prying fingers of the world. Omar accepted what it meant to be the leader of his people. He would protect them no matter the cost. Beth Bradshaw was a woman who ignited his blood, but she was also a woman who would have to fail.