1
He was running now. Past the Arc de Triomphe, past the Louvre’s pyramid and up into the gallery. The impossibly fast footsteps behind him faded into silence.
Lost him!
He turned towards the exit. He froze. Staring back at him were that same pair of red eyes…
Robert Lindon woke with a start, gasping for air. He caught his breath. He wondered whether the common man knew that the words ‘gasp’ and ‘gas’ are both derived from the Aramaic word ‘gaspa’ meaning ‘life’.
Probably not, he thought, I’ve got a fucking PHD.
But Lingdon didn’t feel too clever now, as he lay in bed covered in cold sweat and panting. The droplets on his skin made his muscular frame glisten under the fluorescent lightbulb which flickered on and off above him.
I’m like a fucking clever prostitute.
Lindon’s waist was kept to a near-perfect trim by the forty-nice laps he swam of the swimming pool in Oxford, where he lectured on ‘Ancient Linguistics and Meta-Cognitive Symbolicism’. He wiped the sweat off hid perfectly muscular chest, rolled onto his man-valley of his toned back muscles, and glanced at his Daffy Duck wristwatch. It had stopped working years ago, but he liked to keep it on, as a reminded to touch the child inside him.
What a strange dream
It must have been triggered by the mysterious phone call from the stranger with the robotic voice who told him to travel to Cairo the next day for a lecture, without disclosing why or who he was. Still, Lindon thought nothing of it, pulled himself out of bed and dressed for the lecture.
2
Three hours later, Lindon arrived at Heathrow Airport. He walked down the tarmac and past the Airport control tower. He recalled how the Airport tower was actually a recreation of the Tower of Babel – the Biblical tower which, as myth has it, crumbled into thirteen parts, spreading different languages around the globe.
Now sending flights around the globe.
He wondered if the airport staff knew that they were actually working in a recreation of a Biblical myth.
Probably not, he thought, they’re only fucking airport staff.
Suddenly he heard rapid footsteps behind him. Images from his dream the previous night flashed into his mind. He spun around in horror to see a pair of red eyes, staring at him.
3
Sarah Cocksteady clutched her mobile phone in horror. It was an iPhone 4.She had bought it recently from one of the high-street stores near her science lab, although it was available in all good electronics stores nationwide. Not surprisingly, given Apple’s dedication to customer satisfaction, she had purchased it for an extremely reasonably price. In fact, Sarah Cocksteady had only just finished telling her secret benefactor, only known as ‘Laqab’, that if he wanted to discuss the product further he could call 0800 741 741, when she had received the horrifying picture-message. The phones iCase, which she had bought to ensure a lifetime of customer satisfaction, reflected her terror-stricken face. The picture-message was some kind of code. It read;
IVIVIV. The answer lies at the feet of a God.
She stared at the number in the handy contacts log which could keep a complete record of all the iPhone 4’sã history, making staying connected to her loved ones a whole lot easier. Sarah recognised the number. It was the same number that had called the night before, right after her brother, the curator of the British Museum and researcher of Egyptian Mythology, had gone missing. She knew that the text was sine kind of code, and she knew that she had the option to call, text, Email or Facebook a friend all at the touch of a button, making keeping in touch a whole lot quicker. But who could she contact for help? The fibres of her tight lab coat stretched over swelling chest as her breath quickened.
Who can I call?
4
Robert Lindon stared into those red eyes. “Sit”, he commanded, and the dog sat. He chuckled at himself for jumping at a simple dog. He stroked the dog’s neck. It was wearing a collar with the name ‘Anubis’.
Appropriate.
Anubis was the Jackal-headed god who ruled the underworld in ancient Egyptian mythology. He wondered if the god knew it was named after an ancient anthropomorphic mythological deity.
Probably not, he thought, it’s only a fucking dog.
Suddenly Lindon noticed something underneath the collar. It was white, and square. He picked it out from underneath the collar. It was a piece of paper. He opened it out. There was a message scribbled on it. He read it. His eyes opened in shock. It read;
If you want to see Dr. Cocksteady alive, call077186247
Lindon gasped. Peter Cocksteady was his best friend. He was the curator of the British Museum and had taught Lindon everything he knew about Egyptian mythology. He had not heard from his for a while, but assumed his unusual summoning for a lecture had something to do with Peter.
Seems like this shit goes deeper.
Lindon turned around to head towards the plane, where he could call the number in peace and quiet. The plane was painted gold and had the name ‘Osiris’ painted down the side. He recalled how Osiris was the Egyptian sun-god who would travel across the sky every day before engaging in battle with the serpent god ‘Set’. Every day he would lose the battle and darkness would descent, only to be reincarnated the next morning, for another cycle of this everlasting struggle. Lindon wondered whether the plane knew that this myth is where the term ‘sunset’ came from.
Probably not, he thought, it’s only a fucking plane.
He walked towards the plane, dialled the number into his cell phone, held his breath for an answer. But he stopped. He felt a strong presence behind him. He turned around, and to his astonishment the dog began to stand up, revealing well-muscled legs – human legs, and then a human torso.
Anubis!
5
The albino kneeled. Above his head, nailed to the wall, hung a gold disc - an Egyptian sun-disc. The man’s huge, muscular body prostrated before it. He’s rippling back muscles stretched the thin white sheet that was covering the Adonis-like body beneath. The man raised himself up, making his huge, thick sex-organ bulge against the thin sheet which could barely contain his manhood, like a shaved otter hiding behind a table cloth. He bent down again, causing his perfectly sculpted buttocks to quiver under the sheet, like a muscely baby behind a curtain, terrified of his own father. He was now kneeling before a cross-symbol. It was not the crucifix; the ancient instrument of torture still worshipped by the follows of Jesus, despite being their prophet’s cause of death. No, this symbol was older. It was the Egyptian ‘Anch’ symbol, used by the pharaohs to represent the stability that they brought to the land. Next to this was the symbol of the Egyptian creator-god, ‘Amun’. As he worshipped one after the other, he was prostrating before a code. The sun disc, if rendered as ‘son’ – a correction of an ancient mistranslation, follows by the ‘anch’ symbol and the ‘amun’ symbol spelled out ‘tut-anch-amun’. Or, Tutankamun.
Soon the secrets of the treasure will be mine!
He closed his eyes – coloured red by his albino condition – relishing the thought. Suddenly, a shout interrupted his thought. He groaned, pulled himself up, and walked into the next room. A scared old man sat in the corner of the room, tied to a chair. He had managed to spit out the gag that now lay in his lap, limp and soggy like an apologetic salmon. “Laqab!” the man bellowed, “let me go! I told you, I know nothing about any lost treasure!” “Shut it gramps!” shouted Laqab – the albino giant, “speak again and I’ll shove your face so far down your throat you’ll be smelling your own scrotum for a week! Besides, I know you can’t help me, don’t insult my intelligence. But, I know a certain little lady called Sarah who could!” Peter froze.
Sarah!
“Don’t you dare touch my sister”, he screamed. A grin spread across Laqab’s chiselled face. He stepped forward, “I hope you like the smell of nuts”, he said as he rolled up his sleeves.
6
Sarah Cocksteady was staring at her iPhone 4. She had just logged on to the Internet and was Googlingã the phrase from her terrifying picture-message ‘at the feet of gods’, using the iPhone’s 16MB Internet connection which was available all over mainland UK. Although the connection time was the fastest of all the iPhone’s high-street competitors the Google search was so broad that it was taking some time.
Lucky that unlimited browsing is included in my monthly tariff. She thought to herself.
Suddenly the iPhone began to ring. She didn’t recognise the number that flashed up on the long-lasting screen.
Perhaps it’s about Peter!
She answered the phone, only having to shake the phone thanks to its Gravo-Tech software that makes staying in touch with friends just a shake away.
“Hello!”, she almost shouted into the phone. Luckily the iPhoneã was equipped with 8GB of Audio-Accaleratory Transfixiciation software, meaning that no matter how loud she spoke, the person on the end of the line would hear her voice at a volume level guaranteed to be non-harmful to their hearing, making speaking to strangers a whole lot safer. On the other end, she heard muffled grumbles.
This is due to the bad quality of the sound-source, she assured herself, and not the fault of the iPhone’sã Cubic-Metereophonic Speaker System.
It sounded like some kind of fight was happening on the other end of the line.
Peter?
7
Lindon heard a muffled “Peter” coming from his phone receiver, but he was too busy wrestling with the half-man-half-dog creature to answer. The creature grabbed the phone from him and threw it to the floor. The phone, being one of the poor-quality high-street competitors to the iPhone 4 was flimsy, and smashed into a thousand pieces upon impact with the runway tarmac, revealing it’s cheaply-constructed wiring. “Should have splashed out on iPhone”, he quipped, before the creature smashed him in the face, splitting his jam-bone in two and breaking most of his teeth. Robert Lindon’s world went black. The creature stood over its victory. It reached its hands up, and removed its canine head, revealing a well-chiselled face, with white hair and albino eyes….
To continue reading, Alan Holswick and Stan Brown’s novel ‘The Osiris Code’, you can find it now in all good bookshops and Apple Stores.
