“No, Watson; there is an odd game afoot here and I would like to be sure of the identity of our opponent. I suspect that we shan’t have long to wait.”
The timing of Holmes’s remarks was uncanny; even as he spoke a hansom cab stopped at the curb and a lone passenger disembarked.
“Watson, fetch your revolver from the drawer and keep it close at hand. Unless I am very much mistaken, the gentleman you see approaching is dangerous on an order of magnitude that makes our previous guest seem an unruly urchin. I will show him in.”
“Holmes, if he is as dangerous as you say, what purpose can possibly be served by inviting him inside, other than to put ourselves at peril?”
“Come now, Watson.” Holmes’s eyes held a twinkle indicative of his investigative instincts having been fully aroused. “Are you not the least a bit curious as to why such a man would seek out the world’s foremost consulting detective?”
The man that Holmes ushered into the room was unusual, though certainly no more so than our earlier visitor. A youngish man of possibly Mediterranean descent, he was as immaculately dressed as any of the indolent scions of the Empire’s wealthiest families. His height was about average, and he seemed from his carriage to be in fine physical trim. There was nothing odd about him at all until one took into account the large black cat perched on his shoulder and his oddly piercing eyes. They were, without a doubt, the eyes of a mesmerist.
“Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson, I am Dr. Nikola,” he said, taking the chair that Holmes indicated. All the while his feline companion eyed us with a baleful, unwinking stare. “I must first apologize for sending Persano to see you. I needed to be certain if your mental resources merited the accolades that have been bestowed. Persano’s subterfuge would be discernible to a superior mind, but might well have passed muster with a lesser intellect.
“I sent Persano because, of all my assistants, his aspect is the least likely to cause alarm. But enough of that. My purpose in visiting you, Mr. Holmes, is quite simple. While I may well be the greatest intellect of this age, my studies are limited to certain fields of inquiry, just as your studies are focused on certain other disciplines. Allow me to explain the conundrum that confronts me and I am most certain that you will agree to lend assistance in a most worthy endeavor.”
To say that the man was arrogant would be a gross understatement. He was clearly mad—and Holmes had invited him in! Our guest took no note of my expression of incredulity as he uttered his preposterous statements. Holmes merely nodded, listening carefully and keeping his gaze fixed on the cat, which sat there motionless save for a rhythmic lashing of its tail. He did not speak until our guest had concluded.
“Perhaps, Doctor, you had best begin at the beginning and explain why it is you think I can shed some small light on this enigma that confronts you.”
Nikola inhaled deeply as though preparing for a great physical exertion. The cat remained still, save for its tail. “Mr. Holmes, I have recently returned from Egypt; to be more precise than that is not in my best interests to reveal. Suffice to say there is an ancient city, long thought to be lost, that my studies were able to locate.
“I am, as you no doubt know, a scientist. I have dedicated my rather long life to establishing a perfect world, one that shares the advantages to be offered by all the sciences, both the known and the arcane. To that end it is necessary that I live an extraordinarily extended length of time, and that others able to contribute measurably to my Utopia of Science are gifted with similar longevity. But I am getting ahead of myself . . .”
“Just a moment, sir.” I could not countenance listening to any more of this madness without comment. “You talk of your years as though you were a senescent oldster. You cannot possibly be more than thirty-five at the oldest.”
Holmes said nothing, but the glance he flashed in my direction was more than adequate to convey that I had said more than was prudent. Our guest seemed to take no offense at my challenge, but went on as though he were a professor lecturing to a particularly obtuse class of students.
“For what it is worth, I believe my physical condition to be that of a man of thirty, not thirty-five. It may interest you to know that I appeared much the same as this when your Duke of Wellington overcame the French monster. There are certain compounds known to a few that greatly prolong the human life span. For many years I have been engaged in a mutually beneficial correspondence with a Chinese gentleman who I have every reason to believe was young when the pyramids of Giza were being constructed. Our communication has resulted in my sampling a certain compound, many years ago, with obvious beneficent effects. However, my colleague has been somewhat reticent about giving me enough information to reconstruct his formula.”
Holmes finally spoke. “I am very familiar with your reputation as a vivisectionist, but now the purpose behind your experiments becomes only too clear. You’re after eternal life! You believe that your colleague has found a chemical key to immortality and you mean to replicate it.”
“Quite right. I know just enough of the composition of the elixir to place its original source in Egypt, and to number among its ingredients the royal jelly of certain species of bees. To attempt to re-create the formula from this knowledge has been an exercise in futility that has kept me from fully pursuing other areas of interest. I have recently concluded that my Asian friend may not be alone in possessing the formula that I require. I believe that there are other beings to whom what I call the ‘Elixir Vitae’ is as common as cheap gin to a Stewpony laborer.
“What I’ve discovered concerns the materials that my man Persano brought to show you. Allow me to explain the curious circumstances surrounding their discovery and we shall see if you infer the same conclusions as do I.
“There are places in the Egyptian desert where entire cities of antiquity lie buried under shifting sands, and modern towns where children play with the bones of kings and wild dogs tear at the bodies of the high priests of the old gods. A strange place indeed, a place which I believe holds the origins of the Elixir Vitae.
“I have made mention of my Asian colleague. Through the subtlest of hints and the wildest of coincidences, I have concluded that he may well have walked the earth long ago, in the identity of a pharaoh of the ancient kingdom. With that in mind, I gathered some of my most puissant aides (and those that can travel publicly without causing undue alarm) and set about to explore my ‘friend’s’ ancestral home.
“I will spare you the details of our being driven off our chosen course by one of the sandstorms endemic to the region. There is much to discover yet in Africa; Burton and Speke’s finds pale in comparison to what we stumbled across. The veil of sand was torn asunder, letting us be the first humans in many hundreds of years to find traces of the City of Pillars. Few of the pillars still stand; most were buried, save for a few feet sticking out of the sand. They were carved of basalt and were a good fifteen feet in diameter. On the top of each of the nine that we saw was a shallow depression containing metal objects similar to the one Persano showed you. Each cylinder had one of the curious star-stones that you have also seen partially covering it. An interesting and incomprehensible arrangement; if the towers were as tall as I suspected they were, what earthly purpose could have been served by placing these objects on their top? I meditated on this for some time while Persano attempted to quell the fears of our bearers, who seemed convinced that we were in the presence of a great evil. Perhaps most curious was the fact that the star-stones were firmly bolted to the pillars with stout iron bands. Someone had taken a great deal of care at some point to ensure that the stones remained in place.