"So, they picked up camels and headed back east eh?" Max pondered the news from his young Arab cohort, his thoughts running with heightened interest to the broken relic he had tried to sell them. "Make the same arrangements for us. We'll leave at sunset, they're still only a day ahead."

Baddu waved the young man away with his assumed authority of second in command. He swaggered over to the jeep where Max was sitting and leaned confidentially against the door frame. The shadow from the kaffiyeh that was close about his face, gave his dark skin a parched, scabby cast.

"If we run the camels until we are past the farmlands, we should gain quite a bit of time. The hills will be slow going for the animals, they can take that time to refresh." Max snickered to himself at the Arab's ridiculous posturing, but admitted his observation was clever.

"Good thought. If we press hard tonight we should pick up their track sometime tomorrow, then we'll see just what they're up to." He moved the driver's seat back and swung his feet up on the dashboard. "Wake me when Snake Eyes gets back with the camels."

Baddu gave him an ugly, rotten-toothed grin and snorted, "Snake Eyes. A good name for young Gabba, his eyes are the eyes of the cobra."

*****

At Bawîti, Surri learned that the jeep had indeed passed through early that same morning, heading south on the only road, the one to Qasr Farâfra. One white man and two Arabs. The man who had sold them gasoline said they left in a great hurry, driving like demons.

"There's not much between here and there," Rafiman thought aloud, tracing the track on his map. "I suppose we've nothing to do but keep following. At least we'll be heading south again, closer to home."

Surri stood smartly at attention, snapping a sharp, 'Sir!' in agreement.

"Corporal," Rafiman said wearily, "how about undoing your corset and letting up a little with the military behaviour. We're out here all alone, on a hunt for a man who committed a brutal assault. Let's just be a little less formal and work as a team. Okay?" Surri saluted then turned beet red at his superior's expression. He stood at ease, then tried to stand casually, dropping some of the formality, but his training habits left him looking like an absurd stick man posing for a photo.

Rafiman sighed deeply and placed his map back in the plastic pouch. "Get in Corporal, we might as well be on our way while there's still some light." Surri scurried around to the passenger side and leaped in, still blushing furiously. As their jeep pulled back onto the track, Rafiman watched him trying to adjust to the concept of informality with a superior officer. The florescent ball of the sun dipped gradually below the hills behind them, leaving the land ahead bathed in a rosy luminescence, dimming to a blue black as the jeep sped south to Qasr Farâfra.

*****

It was still dark when Melanie awoke to voices outside the tent. She looked over at Oura who was sound asleep and breathing softly. Melanie studied the sleeping girl, the cloud of black, shiny hair, the olive dark skin smooth and clear. She absently pushed her fingers through her own hair and brushed her fingers over the skin of her cheeks, stopping abruptly, annoyed at the thought of making any comparisons. Why was she jealous of this girl? Or was it jealousy? Was it instead a feeling of competition for attention? So far she'd certainly rebuffed all attempts from Stone to engage her interest, so what was bothering her? She watched a languid arm slip from beneath the covers and form a cradle beneath the glossy hair as the girl turned over. You do find him attractive, don't you? Oura's words tiptoed through her memory like a guilty thief. Melanie pressed her hand to her forehead, forcing them away, and silently crawled from the tent.

Stone and the three Bedouins were boiling water while preparing to break camp as she came out, clutching her arms in the early morning chill. A sporadic breeze had sprung up, stirring the palm branches with a sweeping, slappy sound that rose and fell in intensity. Small clouds of sand hurried through the campsite, hissing against the tent cloth, stinging her face and settling in the tea water.

"Morning," Stone smiled tentatively, handing her a cup of hot tea, "looks like we're gonna have some wind to contend with today."

Melanie took the cup gratefully and held it tight in both hands, enjoying the warmth.

"Will it be a problem do you think?" She fought against avoiding eye contact, determined to deal with her unaccountable misgivings.

"Nah. Massam says it blows like this all the time down here. Starting, stopping. It's no big deal."

"For them I guess it isn't. They're used to it." She walked closer to the fire and crouched down, staring at the busy flames.

"Just keep your hat low over your face and your mouth shut," he suggested, waiting for a response to the double-edged comment.

"Do both those remarks refer to protecting me from the blowing sand?" She tilted a stubborn chin in his direction, her plan for control deserting her again.

Stone grinned widely and pointed a finger at her, "I wondered how you'd take that. Yes, as a matter of fact they do." he crouched down next to her still grinning. "Such a lovely mouth was made for smiling, it's a shame to suggest such a thing. But I guess—"

Melanie stood up quickly, tossed the remainder of her tea into the fire, and stomped off toward her tent.

"Oops!"

"What did I miss?" Karl emerged stiffly from his tent, combing his wispy, thin hair with his fingers. He didn't really enjoy the camping out part of these expeditions, preferring instead his own bed and a soft mattress. He paused to dig some of the blowing sand from his eyes; another minus about field expeditions, and stumbled over to where Stone was still squatting.

"I think I offended your daughter with what I thought was going to be a compliment." He displayed a regretful face, " I guess she took it as a move of some kind. I don't seem to be having much luck making an impression— at least not a good one." Ever since the professor had so easily read his idle thoughts back at the hotel, he'd bumbled every attempted approach.

"Hah! I wouldn't worry too much. Melanie's very quick to ignite. She's like her mother in that respect." Karl squatted carefully on his camp stool; aches and stiffness from the previous day's ride maturing rapidly. "Can I ask you something?"

Stone gave him a fish eye and grinned, "Not about taking care of your daughter again, I hope."

Karl snorted lightly and shook his head, "No. Not that. It's about Amin. I know I asked this before, but, what do you know about him?"

"Amin? I told you. Nothing really. Massam told me he was a Yemeni actually, not a Bedouin, and that he was hired because of his reputation with camels. Been working the guide business for years," He waved his hand to correct himself, "Well, I mean, not years and years. He's young, but . . . why do you ask?"

"I just, uh, oh nothing. Never mind."

Stone puzzled at the older man's glazed expression for a moment, then shrugging his confusion off, changed the subject. "Mind if I ask what happened to your wife?" he asked, handing up a mug of tea.

Karl's features became melancholy and he shrugged, setting down the mug and slipping his hands awkwardly into his pockets, "Cancer. When she was thirty-four. Mel was only fourteen at the time, she took it very hard and it made her extremely angry."

"I'm sorry- for both of you." Stone poured himself a refill, mentally calculating the vast age difference between Mel's parents.

"Well it was eight years ago now, just before Christmas. A tough time for anyone, especially a young child." He moved his camp stool closer to the fire and leaned his arms on his knees, tea forgotten.

Patricia had been one of his students at the University in Michigan where he taught Egyptology. She was bright, inquisitive, and, as it turned out, infatuated with her professor. He spent, he didn't know how many hours, trying to avoid her advances; his position and age causing a tremendous conflict with his growing fondness for her. He remembered when she finally wore him down; the night of the graduation ball, with a frankness that he couldn't deny, and in a moment of sheer abandon, he surrendered his misgivings and proposed marriage. She had accepted with a gleeful yelp before he'd even finished asking. It had been the most exciting and fulfilling fourteen years of his life. And when Melanie was born, he felt he had been reborn.

The eventual discovery of her illness hit them both like a sledgehammer to the heart, and for nearly a year, her pathetic decline had nearly killed him as well. He couldn't imagine a life without this vibrant, loving wife and mother, but he soon had to learn. She'd departed with an apologetic smile, gripping his hand with all the force of her being. Had it not been for Melanie; her determination and maturity, he would have given up and withered away. In time he adjusted to the loss and came to enjoy life with his feisty daughter, who made it her business to be both a mother and companion to him.

"I can imagine,." Stone muttered, fretting over having raised the subject, so he ended it by getting up and ordering the Bedouins to break camp and load up the camels.

*****

Sergeant Rafiman scratched his beard and frowned. Hiring camels and continuing the chase meant they would have to leave the police vehicle here, which also meant they would have to come back for it later. They had been gone from Idfu nearly four days already, spent an uncomfortable previous night in the vehicle, and had wakened to a gnawing concern about continuing the pursuit. Rarely did he get the opportunity for anything that equaled this particular venture, but still, was it enough to warrant his absence? He sent Surri off to find a telephone and contact their station to report, and give an update of their whereabouts, while he contemplated the ramifications of keeping after Max Baeder.

Surri jogged back up the rutted street, snapping to attention with his news then blushing, fumbled for the expected nonchalance. "The Captain has instructed me to tell you that we should continue our pursuit of the criminal and that he wants us to obtain a radio for contact, in case something really serious pops up."

"Really! Well that pleases me." Rafiman perked up, excited by the fact that his decision had been vindicated, "I want to find this Baeder and haul him back for a trial," he stared off across the eastern horizon and pursed his lips. Dawn was breaking on the landscape, sweeping away the last remnants of shadow in its path. A rush of energy coursed through his body, anticipating the thrill of the chase and the reward for a successful completion. "Go back to the local station and requisition a radio Surri, and while you're at it, make arrangements for the vehicle. I'll go and hire us a couple of camels and some gear."

Surri snapped his arm up to salute then cursed to himself at his inability to loosen up as he spun about, and dashed down the street, pounding his fist in his hand.