The air was heavier now. Burton could feel it on his skin, in his mouth and throat. The layer of dust was even deeper, almost an inch thick, undisturbed as far as Burton could tell.
This tunnel also descended, but less that fifty feet after following it, Burton noticed a change. The walls were no longer made of smoothly cut blocks, but rather had been burrowed though solid stone.
Kaji confirmed what Burton was seeing. “We are below the Pyramid, into the bedrock of the Highland.”
The English explorer ran his hand along the wall. “It is perfectly smooth. I have been in many mines and caverns and never seen such a well-constructed shaft. Who made these tunnels? The builders of the Pyramid?”
“Some say these tunnels predate the Pyramid.” Kaji paused and ran a hand across his forehead. Burton could see the sheen of sweat on the Arab. It was warm, but not that warm. He wondered what was causing the other man’s fear.
“It is said the three pyramids above us were built in the Fourth Dynasty of the Old Kingdom, between the years 2685 and 2180 before the birth of our Lord,” Burton said. “The Great Pyramid, built by the Pharaoh Cheops, as the Greeks called him… Khufu in your tongue.”
“Before the birth of your lord in the West,” Kaji amended. “Your Christ is just a prophet in the Koran. A man, not a god.”
Burton saw no need to get into a theological discussion at this place and time. Besides, he was hot a firm believer in the religion he had been raised in, and the many cultures and religions he had already witnessed in his life had shown him that if there was a god in heaven, there were many paths by which people might worship him. Becoming a Master Sufi had forced him to delve deeply into Islam, and he saw much in that faith that he admired… more than he did in his native belief. A Sufi adhered to no specific religion and dismissed no religion. The truth transcended such petty concerns of men.
“Who built these tunnels, then, if they are older than the pyramids?” Burton asked. ‘And were the pyramids built over them to hide the entrance to the tunnels? Or perhaps to mark the entrances?”
“These tunnels were built by those who carved the Sphinx and built the temple around it.” Kaji inclined his head in the direction the tunnel was dug. “We are heading toward the Sphinx now. East.”
Burton considered that information. “Then the Sphinx is older than the pyramids?”.
“Much older.”
“How much older?”
Kaji smiled for the first time since they had entered the Great Pyramid. “You would not believe me if I told you. Long before the Pharaoh Menes founded the first Dynasty.”
“How can that be? Who built the Sphinx?”
“It was carved during the time of the Neteru who ruled in the first age.”
“Who were the Neteru?” Burton asked.
“The time of the gods, of Osiris and Isis. I do not have time to give you a lesson on the history of my country.”
“What of man during this time? Who lived here?”
“Those who came before from over the sea,” Kaji said, which meant nothing to Burton.
The Englishman cocked his head. There was a very faint noise, a deep, rumbling sound coming from ahead. “What is that?”
“The river of the underworld.” Kaji was moving once more. “Water from the Nile flows through tunnels under the Plateau and then back to the river, farther downstream. It is the second Gateway of Rostau; there is one on land and one in water.”
They trod down the perfectly straight tunnel for another five minutes.
“How deep are we?” Burton finally asked, but Kaji was counting to himself once more and didn’t answer.
The Arab paused and swung the light close to the wall on the right side. He pressed his hand against it. Burton stepped back in surprise as what had appeared to be unmarked stone changed and the outline, of a block, five, feet wide and the height of the tunnel, appeared. It didn’t rotate like the others, but slid back two feet, then smoothly up into a recess above.
“How did that work?” Burton demanded, but Kaji signaled with his free hand for him to go through. The other was still pressed against the wall. There was only blackness beyond.
Burton hesitated. “You first.”
Kaji went through, and Burton followed. The door slid down behind him and the outline of the door disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
“Where are we?” Burton asked.
They were in a larger tunnel that also descended, except something was wrong. The light from their lanterns was absorbed about twenty feet away from them, fading into an utter darkness. “I have given you my word that you will see what you seek,” Kaji said. “This is the way to the Hall of Records.”
“You go first,” Burton said, which only brought a slight smile in response from Kaji.
The Arab walked down the tunnel, lantern held in front of him. Burton bunked. It was as if the man were fading from sight, yet he was no more than ten feet ahead. Kaji looked over his shoulder, his figure faint. “You must have faith to go this way. Do you have the faith?”
“I… ” But even as Burton responded, Kaji faded from view, the lantern in his hand blinking out. There was nothing but that disquieting darkness… an unnatural black the likes of which Burton had never seen.
Burton forced himself down the tunnel, feeling the darkness press against his skin, as if the air were becoming a liquid. He pushed forward, even as the light from the lantern faded to a very small dot dangling from a hand he could no longer see. He no longer felt connected to his body, to the world. He was in another place, another time.
Light exploded into his eyes, momentarily blinding him. Burton staggered and would have fallen but for Kaji grabbing his arm. Burton blinked, his eyes trying to adjust.
“‘There… ” Kaji’s voice was a whisper.
Burton’s jaw dropped. He didn’t notice the pain from his wounds as he took in his surroundings. He was on a ledge along the side of a huge cavern. Light came from a five-meter-wide orb overhead that Burton could not look at for more than a second or, like the sun, it burned his eyes. The far end of the cavern was at least half a mile away. The walls were curved, consisting of red rock, cut smooth, reflecting the light of the minisun.
“There is the Hall of Records.” Kaji was pointing at the floor of the cavern, a hundred feet below them.
“My God!” Burton exclaimed as he saw what was there.
It was a replica of the Great Sphinx… but this one was not covered by sand, nor was it made of stone. The skin of the creature was a flawless black that absorbed the light. The head was larger, the nose not shot off. Indeed, it was larger than the stone one above. Fuller. The eyes caught Burton’s gaze. They were the only part of the Sphinx not black. Blood red, with elongated red irises, they glowed from some inner fire. For a second Burton thought it was alive, a monstrous creature, before he realized it was inanimate.
“‘What is it made of?” Burton asked. “I have never seen the like.”
“B’ja… the divine metal.” Kaji said.
Burton looked around. Stairs cut out of the rock itself led down to the floor on which the Sphinx rested. Its paws extended almost sixty feet in front of the head, which rose seventy feet above the floor. The body stretched one hundred and eighty feet back from the head, making the whole thing almost three hundred feet long. Between the paws was a statue about three meters tall. Burton looked closely — it was the figure of a man. but one strangely shaped, with a body too short and limbs too long. The most startling aspect, though, was the head, with polished white skin, ears with long lobes that ended just above the shoulders, and two gleaming red eyes set in a long, narrow face. The stone that covered the top of the head was also red.