Reid and Yusif sweltered under the strong glare of the shop lights they’d positioned around the sarcophagus with its sculpted image of Fluvium. The man’s face bore a faint smile, as if he mocked them for their audacity in trying to open his last repository.
“We’ll see who gets the last laugh,” Reid promised as he made the final cut with a small handheld circular saw. Yusif caught the section of wood.
“I still do not like this, sahib,” Yusif told him. “The notion of sawing open a three-thousand-year-old sarcophagus reeks of the sort of sacrilege that should get a person consigned to the lowest levels of hell.”
Reid watched him lower the square section to expose the wooden cylinder that contained the black powder. Then he bent forward and used a flashlight to illuminate the device.
“Pretty damn clever,” Reid muttered. “Can you see the levers? By lifting the lid, the levers are turned, which press the iron rods down. When enough pressure is created, the rods fracture these thin glass disks. Once the glass breaks, the rods drop and slide along the flint chips.”
“Which then spark and set off the powder,” Yusif finished. “I think we can just lift the canister out.”
“I’ll grab the iron rod just to be sure.”
Yusif glanced at him, dark eyes thoughtful. “You will not slip?”
“You’ll be the first to know if I do.”
“Allah protect me.” Yusif wiped at the sweat beading on his forehead. “Very well.” He grasped the wooden cylinder and eased it sideways until the base slid free of the confining wood. Slowly he lowered it, while Reid reached in and grasped the iron rod. Once free, they separated the pieces and grinned.
Removing the glass disk and looking into the cylinder, Reid could see the lines of flint, and below them, the granular black powder.
“Makes you wonder why he kept the formula secret,” Yusif said as he carefully set the cylinder on the floor. “If what they were doing with biohazard is true, why would he care if he introduced gunpowder to our timeline?”
“You starting to believe that timeline stuff?”
“I don’t know what to think. It’s all magnoon. Crazy, you know?”
“I’m sorry, Yusif.”
He waved it away. “Bah, I was enjoying my cell. So peaceful and dark, you know? Just me and the rats. Then suddenly, in the middle of the night, I was awakened. Two rather surly men dragged me out. What better time to die, eh?”
His eyes narrowed as he moved to the next cylinder where the wood had been cut away. “But instead they loaded me on a helicopter, which took me to the airport. Next thing I am on a flight to New York, and there, in the airplane’s cargo bay is this sarcophagus! How do they get it? I do not know.”
He waved a finger under Reid’s nose. “But the fact that they did, and that I am out of al segna, um, prison? Ah, sahib, we’re talking a great deal of power.”
Reid lowered his voice. “Something tells me things are going to be very, very interesting sometime soon.”
“Just do not drop the next canister,” Yusif reminded flatly. “Or they will be picking us up with a ma’ala’a.”
“A what?”
“A spoon. Unlike a spatula the runny bits won’t drip off the edges.”
“Always practical, aren’t you?”
“When we are not rioting in the streets, we think that way in the new Egypt.”
Bill Minor opened the door and stepped in. “Are you ready to open that thing yet?”
Reid glanced at him, noted the black rings under his eyes, the haggard expression. “Looks like you had a tough night.”
Minor didn’t even hesitate. He grabbed Reid by the throat and lifted. Staring eye to eye, Minor said, “Don’t screw with me today, Doctor. I’m not in the fucking mood for it.”
Reid coughed and gagged when Minor released him. He staggered back, then dropped limply to the floor. He’d barely caught a breath through his crushed throat when Bill Minor drew back and kicked him hard in the stomach.
“I want that fucking thing open within the hour, gentlemen. If you can’t, after I beat the both of you to death, I’ll find someone who can get the job done.”
Turning on a heel he strode for the door.
Fear running bright along his bones, Reid gasped against the pain in his belly. Shaking and panicked, he blinked back tears. Yusif helped him sit up. Reid fought a sudden urge to vomit, sucking big gasps of air.
“You are all right, sahib?”
“No. But how I feel doesn’t matter.” Reid brushed him away, voice rasping. “Come on. Let’s get the damn thing open before he comes back.”
Yusif’s black eyes held Reid’s. “Next time I would advise a more circumspect approach regarding your description of his physical appearance.”
“Yeah, I’ll take that under advisement.”