The Seventh Scroll

last. "You too, gentlemen. Let us get started."

Von Schiller remained standing on his block at the head of the table. He

enjoyed the feeling of superior height.

His short stature had been a source of humiliation ever since his

school-days when he had been nicknamed Tippa' by his peers.

"Fr-dulein Kemper will be recording everything which is said here this

afternoon. She will also issue each of you with a folder of documents

which she will collect from you again at the end of this meeting. I want

to make it very clear that none of this material will ever leave this

room.

It is of the most confidential nature, and belongs to me alone. I will

take a most stringent view of any breach of this instruction."

As Utte handed out the folders, von Schiller looked at each recipient in

turn. His expression made it clear what the penalty would be for any

contravention of his instructions.

Then von Schiller opened the dossier that lay on the tabletop in front

of him. He stood over it, leaning forward on his bunched fists.

"In your folders you will find copies of the Polaroid photographs that

were recovered from Quenton-Harper's camp. Please look at these now."

Each of them opened their own folder.

"Since our arrival Dr Nahoot has had an opportunity to study these, and

he is of the opinion that they are genuine, and that the stele in the

photographs is an authentic artefect of ancient Egyptian origin, almost

certainly dating from the Second Intermediate Period, circa 1790 BC. Is

there anything you wish to add to that, Doctor?"

"Thank you Herr von Schiller." Nahoot smiled  eaginously, but his dark

eyes weren nervous. There was something cold and dispassionate about the

old German that terrified him. He had displayed ro emotion whatsoever as

he ordered Nahoot to arrange the death of Duraid Al Simma and his wife.

Nahoot knew that he would be equally unmoved if he were- to order

Nahoot's own murder. He realized that he was riding the tiger's back. "I

would just like to qualify that statement. I said that the stele

pictured in these prints appeared to be genuine. Of course I would not

be able to give you a definite opinion until I was able to examine the

actual stone at first hand."

"I note your qualificatioq," von Schiller nodded, "and we are assembled

here to find the means to obtain the stele for your examination and

verdict." He picked up the glossy print that Utte had made from the

original that morning in the laboratory darkroom in the adjoining hut.

Photography was not the least of her many talents and skills and she had

done a very competent job. The copies of the Polaroids that Helm had

transmitted to him in Hamburg had been blurred and distorted, but still

they had been sufficient to bring him rushing across the continents in

all this haste. Now he held these clear likenesses in full colour, and

his excitement threatened to suffocate him.

While they were all silent, he caressed the print as lovingly as if it

had been the actual object that it portrayed.

If this were genuine, as he knew instinctively that it was, then it

alone would be well worth the considerable cost in time and money and

human life that he had already paid.

It was a marvelous treasure, to match even the original seventh scroll

which was already in his collection. The condition and state of

preservation of the stele after four thousand years seemed to be

extraordinary. He lusted for it as he had for few things in his long

life. It required an effort to set aside this pervasive longing, and to

apply his mind to the task ahead of him.

If, however, the stele is genuine, Doctor, can you tell us, or rather,

can you suggest to us where it may be situated, and where we should

direct our search?"

"I believe that we should not consider the stele in isolation, Herr von

Schiller. We should look at the other Polaroids that Colonel Nogo was

able to recover for us, and which Frdulein Kemper has so ingeniously

copied." Nahoot set aside the one print and selected another from the

pile in the folder in front of him. "This one, for example."

The others riffled through their own folders and selected the same print

as he was displaying.

"If you study the background of this copy, you will see that in the

shadows behind the stele there appears to be the wall of some type of

cave or cavern." He looked up at von Schiller, who nodded encouragement.

"There also appears to be some type of barred doorway."Nahoot set the

print aside and selected another. "Now, see here. This is a photograph

taken of another subject. It is, I believe, of a mural decoration

painted upon either a plastered wall or the bare rock of a cave,

possibly an excavated tomb, It seems to have been taken through the

grille of the gate which I pointed out to you in the first photograph of

the stele. This mural is almost certainly Egyptian in style and

influence. In fact it very strongly reminds me of those murals that

decorated the tomb of Queen Lostris in Upper Egypt in which the original

Taita scrolls were uncovered."

"Yes. Yes. Go only' von Schiller encouraged him.

"Very well, then. Using the barred gate as the connecting factor, there

is every reason to believe that both stele and murals are located in the

same cave or tomb

"If that is so, what indications do we have as to where Quenton-Harper

photographed these Polaroids7' Von still frowning angrily as he looked

at each of Schiller was jl them in turn. They all tried to avoid his

blue, penetrating scrutiny.

Colonel Nogo," von Schiller singled him out, "this is your country, You

know the terrain intimately. Let's hear our thoughts on the subject."

Colonel Nogo shook his head. "This man, this Egyptian-' he used the

epithet disparagingly, "is mistaken. This is not an Egyptian tomb in the

photographs."

"Why do you say that?" Nahoot challenged him angrily.

"What do you know about Egyptology? I have spent twenty five years-I

"Wait," von Schiller silenced him peremptorily. "Let him finish." He

looked at Nogo. "Go on, colonel."

"I agree that I don't know anything about Egyptian tombs, but these

photographs were taken in a Christian church."

"What makes you so sure? Nahoot demanded bitterly, his authority

challenged.

"Let me explain to you that I was ordained as a priest fifteen years

ago. Later, I became disillusioned with Christianity and all other

religions, and left the Church to may believe become a soldier. I tell

you this so that you that I know what I am talking about." He smiled

with ilious malice at Nahoot, before going on. "Look at superc and you

will be able to make out on this first print again, the wall in the

background, near the corner of the grille gate, the outline of a human

hand and the stylized picture mbols of the Coptic Church. You can see

-of a fish. Those are sy see them reproduced in any church or cathedral

in the land." Each of them peered at their own copy of the same of them

ventured an opinion until von print, but none Schiller had given his,

"You are right," von Schiller said softly. "There is, as you say, the

hand and the fish."

"But I assure you the hieroglyphics on the stele and the murals and the

wooden coffin are all Egyptian," Nahoot . "I would stake my life on it."

defended himself stoutly Nogo shook his head, and began to argue. "I

know what I am saying-'

Von Schiller held up his hand to silence them both while he considered

the problem. At last he came to some decision.

"Colonel Nogo, show me on the satellite photograph the site of