The Mummy: The Tomb Robbers' Secret

The Concession

She was surprised to find Ardeth-Bey drinking tea with her father on the patio. He had removed his turban and set it carefully on the table letting the little evening breeze ruffle his black curls.

He saw her and smiled, "Salaam Alaikum," he said, looking beautiful and golden as he always did. He had recently trimmed his beard, allowing her a better view of his full lips and white teeth. Why did the man have to be so damn good-looking she asked herself for the hundredth time. She remembered the tall skinny boy who taught her to ride bareback and avoid being burnt by the sun. It was the fondness she retained for the companion of her childhood that kept her from hating him but the boy had grown up so unlike the man that he often tried her patience.

"Salaam," she replied and handed her father a manila envelope. "Here it is, your concession for next year. You're lucky we spread baksheesh to the right people, there's a Swiss archaeologist named Bernard Bruyere who was looking to get it. Next year it may not be so easy."

"Oh, that wouldn't do, that wouldn't do at all," replied her father, but he only seemed to be half paying attention to her. He had been this way the past two weeks as if something was on his mind but he would not speak of it. He hadn't said anything to her about it, whatever it was, which puzzled her. She and her father shared everything, they kept no secrets from each other, and now this.

"We won't be getting that concession for the Valley of the Kings, either. I heard that Carter cleared the corridor to the tomb he opened and found a sealed doorway at the end of it. He's waiting for Pierre Lacau's permission to open it, but I don't think he'll be patient enough to wait that long. Carnarvon is supposed to be coming for the official opening. If they find anything, if most of the tomb's contents are intact, it will take years to clear it."

"Why don't you people just leave these things alone?" Ardeth asked, "Let whoever is in there rest in peace."

"Because if we don't, the looters will, isn't that right Father?" her father seemed to draw himself out of his reverie long enough to nod his assent, "What they don't want they just destroy. The artifacts in tombs are worth a fortune on the black market. There are unscrupulous collectors out there who don't care how an item is obtained. If we find something it will go to the Egyptian Museum, if a looter finds something it will be lost forever."

"Hmm," Ardeth nodded his head, "Then I suppose you archaeologists see yourself as the lesser of two evils."

"Something like that," she replied, for she did not disagree. It would be nice if artifacts could rest undisturbed in Egyptian soil, but for centuries none had. It was up to the archaeologists to win the race with the looters and preserve Egypt's heritage for posterity.

Her father rose and left the table, "I hope that now the two of you are adults you can be trusted to be left alone without fear that you will get into an argument and have to be separated." He kissed the top of Roma's head and disappeared into the house.

She poured herself a cup of tea from the old brass samovar and asked, "Ardeth, you never come to Luxor except for business, I am curious as to why you are here."

"Your father asked me to come," he replied in his accented but beautiful English, "I do not care to come to Luxor but his message sounded urgent so I came."

"Maybe it is a good thing you did. I am worried about Father; I have never seen him like this. He's usually concerned about the concession; he's spent years excavating the workers' village and I thought he'd go to Cairo but he had me take care of it. He hates Howard Carter, considers him an upstart, but Carter has made a major discovery and Father does not seem to care. That's not like him."

"He seems to withdraw to someplace within himself and will stare at nothing for hours. I'm the one who's had to supervise the dig, oversee the workers, and make sure they are paid. This is so unlike him that I don't know what to think."