Outside, a weak, steady breeze condensed the sweat on their damp skin, permitting a few moments of artificial comfort as they walked hand in hand to a small cafe, choosing a tiny table in a shady corner under the canopy. Melanie squealed with delight when the waiter offered them cold fresh lemonade, and she gulped a first glassful down without stopping.

"Careful," Stone teased, "you might taste it by mistake."

"Oh that was heaven. Another, please."

He waved the waiter back and ordered a full pitcher, laughing as she clapped her hands and nodded eagerly. Filling their glasses, he held his up and toasted, "To exciting times with new friends." Reaching across to clink glasses, their knuckles touched, remaining in contact longer than the clink required. Stone locked eyes with Melanie, drinks forgotten, and leaned slowly across the tiny table top, dusting her tentative lips with his own.

They paused, nose to nose, probing one another's eyes for reaction, permission, resolve . . . When they kissed again, it was full blown and hungry. Lemonade splashed unnoticed from tilted glasses and the little table staggered against the urgent press of their bodies.

"Oh my!" Melanie managed, pulling back and pressing her hot face with the back of her hand.

"Oh my indeed. You ah- I hope uh . . ."

"I'm as guilty as you Stone," she said, covering his hand with her own, "and yes, I enjoyed it. Very much."

He coughed embarrassedly, adding his other hand to their pile of warm fingers, "That wasn't exactly my question but it's the answer I was hoping for."

Melanie shifted her gaze over his shoulder. "Maybe we could explore this a little further after . . ." she nodded her head toward the approaching policeman.

Stone beamed and gave a cursory look behind him, "Your wish, and all that usual jazz."

*****

"Just our cursed luck to get saddled with a detail, baby sitting a hole in the wall," the scruffy looking constable complained. His companions ignored his comments, and went about arranging their bedrolls and equipment. "Do you thinks it's fair, Corporal?" the constable persisted.

"It's the job we do, Dabbi. Fair doesn't enter into it."

"I know but-"

"Don't make a career out this eh. We've got a lot of time out here together and I don't want to be listening to you bitching, the whole time." Constable Gordon Hallam gave his partner a weary look. The three men settled down for their first night's sleep in front of the tomb, listening to the plaintive moan of the wind sliding down the gully.

The following morning after breakfast, the Corporal watched his men jabbering quietly between themselves, huddled by their gear. He sensed, by their posture, and furtive glances, that their discussion was not about their duties. Dabbi scissored his legs and stood up, wandering over to the Corporal.

"Gordon and I were just wondering if maybe we shouldn't, you know, go inside-to check things out? Make sure everything is still there?" He stood uncomfortably under the flat stare of his officer.

"You both think that, do you."

"Uh, yes. Well being as we're responsible, how do we know everything's okay if we don't check?"

He studied the sloppy looking policeman for a few moments, then, nodded slowly, "Very well Dabbi. You and Gordon go down to the inner chamber and make sure all the items are as they should be."

"Yessir!" The glint of eager anticipation in his eyes was not lost on the discerning officer.

Thirty minutes later, he stood silently outside the entrance to the inner chamber, listening to his men, arguing in hoarse whispers, over their greedy scheme. He withdrew quietly and went back outside to await their return. "Well, is our mission's objective secure?" He watched them carefully, their body language afire with unintentional signals.

"Yes sir, it, uh, it all seems to be as described. Right Gordon?" Constable Gordon Hallam wiped his neck and nodded sharply, eyes darting to his mate and back to the Corporal.

"Very good. I've decided we'll move our beds up into the entrance. Judging from those clouds, we may be in for a storm tonight. We'll take turns on watch, three hour intervals. I'll go first. Any questions?" The two policemen quickly nodded, tossing their arms about in hasty agreement.

That night, as the Corporal stood watch outside, they lay in their bedrolls whispering to one another.

"You think he suspects anything?"

"How could he, the gems are stashed in my ammunition pouch. Quit worrying, we're home free." Sliding back up the gully from his eavesdropping post, next to the entrance, the Corporal sat staring at the tomb's entrance, his mouth bent up in a tight smirk, his eyes like drops of lead spilled on a cement floor.

******

The police had insisted they remain in Idfu until Corporal Surri was released from hospital and able to submit his statement. As guests of a moderately modern hotel, they spent the next few days scrubbing and cleaning the past week's grime and unpleasant memories out of their minds and bodies. Stone took the opportunity to excuse himself while he visited his old friend Kabbar, who had been released and was recuperating in his hovel of a shop.

Stone recounted the adventure over a special dish of figs and a bottle of French wine that Kabbar produced with great fanfare for the occasion. When he finally left, Stone gave the old man a mighty hug, eliciting a painful grunt, and departed quickly without the usual insults.

Massam was unhappy at having to stay in a room with a bed, fretting over his sister's extraordinary interest at the hospital. His room mate, Harry, took full advantage, showering for hours, singing ribald songs at the top of his voice and appearing one night for dinner, sans beard.

"My god! He's actually handsome!" Melanie exclaimed, when Harry strode into the dining room in his spanking new pants, boots and shirt. A wide, white toothed grin stretched from ear to ear and his long glossy pony tail, bound with a new, clean piece of thong, bounced lightly on his broad back.

"Who is it?" Stone kidded.

"It's Harry Lassiter my friend. Excavated from months of burial in the dust, dirt and gloom of this country's outback." Harry slapped his chest and pulled out a chair from the table.

"Has Massam seen this cursed devil's new look yet?"

"Ah no, not yet. He's moping in his room over his sister and that young Corporal. I guess Sadam's on his mind too." Harry took a forkful of meat from the platter on the table and began eating voraciously.

"I should go check on him," Stone started to rise.

"Leave him Jeb, he has to come to grips with this himself." Melanie's warm hand tugged gently at his arm, bringing him back to his seat.

"Jeb?" Karl gave his daughter an amused look from across the table.

"What?"

"What happened to calling him Stone?" Karl held his smile.

"Karl- professor. Mel and I- we . . ."

"Oh, Stone. Don't bumble about with explanations. I've seen this coming for a while now."

Melanie sat back, folding her arms and giving her father a wry look, "Have you now."

"Yes my dear, as a matter of fact I have- and before you get your back up, I approve. Whole heartedly."

Stone sat nervously between the two, his fingers dancing about the utensils in front of him. "Look I uh-"

"For heaven's sake," Karl sat back in his seat, slapping his thighs, "you have my blessing. Just relax and finish your meal or go off and smooch or whatever you do."

"Father!"

Harry guffawed through another mouthful of food.

*****

"I'm afraid the news is not good." The Captain of the Idfu police leaned against the front of his desk tossing a small orange from hand to hand. He seemed to strut even when he was standing still. "My police detail assigned to guard the tomb and its contents were killed in an unexplained explosion which caused a tremendous cave-in, resealing the entrance and burying all three officers.

Reports from a subsequent detail confirm, that when they arrived at the tomb site, it was sealed by some kind of explosion that brought down the entire rock wall, burying the entrance. A formal decision has been taken to leave the bodies of my men where they are and provide a suitable service here in Idfu for they and their families."

Karl and the rest sat stunned, watching the orange leap back and forth as the Captain spoke. His indifference to the tragedy he'd just described left them with a chilling discomfort regarding their own consequences.

"On the other hand, all your statements appear to properly coincide with Sergeant Rafiman and Corporal Surri's report, as to the events leading up to your ah- detention. You are all now free to go. Formal copies of the incident will be sent to each of you upon completion." He stopped juggling and returned to his seat behind the desk, placing the orange to one side. After some fussy adjusting and straightening of his uniform, he went about busying himself with a file folder.

"Wait a minute," Harry jumped up and leaned on the desk, "what about our stuff? My stuff. It was in there when we left. I was promised it back."

The Captain looked up without raising his head, "Mister Lassiter, you heard what I said. The tomb is sealed. I'm afraid that whatever was inside is buried inside."

"Well who's gonna reimburse me?"

Placing his pen precisely alongside the papers, the officer clasped his hands and gave Harry a withering look. "Reimburse, Mister Lassiter? You are fortunate not to be charged with the illegal entry of a national site."

Karl stood quickly and placed a restraining hand on Harry's arm. "What about a grant to pursue the excavation? We'd be willing to do the work. It would take a lot of effort but we can't just ignore its existence?"

"You'll have to take that up with the Ministry of Antiquities in Cairo. I have no authority in these matters."

"You had enough to make us leave it all behind and lose it!" Harry railed.

Stone took the angry American by the shoulders and led him away from the desk. "Take it easy pal. We gain nothing by makin' these guys mad at us." He leaned closer and whispered a few moments in Harry's ear, eliciting an enlightened smile on the man's face. Stone ushered the others out, thanking the stony faced Captain for his hospitality and professional attention to the case. When they got outside, Oura and Surri were waiting with a resigned looking Massam.

"That was giving up a bit easy wasn't it?" Karl complained, glaring back at the building.

"Trust me." Stone went to Massam and placed a hand on his back, guiding him away from the others. "How's Amin doin'? Where is he anyway?"

Massam gave him an odd look, considering his reply. "The police interviewed him at the hospital just before he was released. I haven't seen him since."

"You think he just left?"

"Yes, he left." The Bedouin shuffled his feet and cast a quick glance at the others waiting for them. "All he said was, his task was done, and he gave me this." Massam produced the map they had found at the oasis, from the folds of his robe. Stone unrolled it and stared silently at the markings. The line that had been faint when they discovered it, was now a firm line leading to a rectangle on the rock face in the wadi. Alongside the rectangle was the glyph denoting Arom Phat. He let the map roll closed and stood staring into Massam's frightened eyes.