The Great Pyramid, Giza
Mohab Samut edged his way along the dimly lit corridor, downwards toward the secret chamber—the chamber below all the documented ones, the chamber that would never be shown on any map of the pyramids.
But Mohab knew it existed. It was his job to know. Mohab Samut, the Keeper of the Great Pyramid. The one entrusted to ensure its secret was never revealed.
To some degree he had already failed. The Chinese invaders had already found it. Somehow, they were aware of the secret of the machine under the Grand Hall. Somehow, they had arrived at Giza unnoticed, and had entered the pyramid unseen, right under the nose of Mohab’s watchers.
That didn’t matter now. All that concerned Mohab was that the secret remained here, within the walls of the pyramid.
He continued his descent into the chamber. His scruffy, baggy white trousers and dark blue galibiyeh dragged along the ground as he followed the oil lamps hanging at sparse intervals along the walls.
The passage was narrow and a foul, musty smell filled his senses. But he had grown accustomed to this over the years. It was the scent of the intruders drawing him along now. The aroma of death—guns and machines and kevlar and plastic. The smell stuck to the walls of the passage like a signpost.
Mohab reached the bottom of the corridor, where he could hear the Chinese soldiers moving about in the hidden chamber below the hall. Their conversation sounded panicked, argumentative. Their voices echoed through the stony walls and floors.
Inside the chamber, Captain Jee Tsung, who had led his men from the ship on the Nile, was barking orders in sheer desperation.
His fate had been the same as the soldiers at Uluru.
Only moments before, the Captain had witnessed several of his men being vaporized as the transparent transport booths exploded without warning.
Bodies lay scattered around the musty room.
And his men had reacted in the same way. Panic.
Mohab watched from the entrance, perched twenty feet above them at the top of a set of stone carved steps.
To the side of the entrance, a series of ancient symbols were embossed on the stone wall.
It was obvious to Mohab that with all their technology, information, and ability to get this far, that the Chinese knew nothing of the symbols.
For if they did, they would have surely placed an armed guard at the top of the steps.
Mohab felt no pity as he casually reached across with his right hand to the embossed buttons. The buttons which, when pressed in the correct sequence, would activate the lockdown door above Mohab’s head.
The ragged Egyptian nodded to himself, knowing in his heart that he was doing the right thing.
He began pressing the stone symbols.
One by one, he pushed them into the wall in the special sequence only he knew, until all seven of the stones had become flush with the surface.
There was a grinding noise as the massive rock door began lowering over the chamber entrance.
Captain Tsung spun around and looked up. Fear filled his eyes as he watched, helpless, the door closing he and his men inside the chamber.
“No!” he screamed out as the full realization set in.
Slowly, the chamber darkened.
Some men, who were closer to the entrance, started running for the steps in blind panic. It was a hopeless attempt to save themselves.
The door hit the ground with a crunch, and the seal became permanent.
Mohab stood up and sighed. The job was done, and the secret of the hidden chamber would remain just that.