"Are you sure? This sounds wacky to me."

"The policemen have no reason to make up such a tale," Surri frowned, "You can read it all in your copies when you get them."

"Rope sandal footprints?"

Massam stepped forward, addressing the seated group. "Think of me what you will, but I shall not be returning if you decide to go back. I can see only one explanation for what those men reported- the Arom Phat curse." He looked pointedly at Stone.

"Massam," Stone chided, "c'mon now. You're letting this curse business get the best of you. This is the twentieth century, myths are for scaring kids into being good." His heart wasn't in the tease, and they both knew why.

"I intend to be good Stone," Massam said seriously, "we are returning to our home today. I hold no bad feelings toward any of you and I wish you all the luck, actually I will miss your company and the bond we created, but we are through with exploring tombs. We are returning to our home today." The finality of Massam's statement filled the silent room, sucking out the air and leaving its occupants panting. After a few awkward moments, Melanie rose and went to the stoic Bedouin, hugging him and wishing him all the best.

Stunned by her behaviour, he stood speechless as the others joined the communal embrace. The ritual lasted a few minutes longer until, having exhausted their good-byes and well meant hugs and kisses, Massam and Oura, who was clinging possessively to Surri's arm, waved a final farewell and left.

"I'm gonna miss them," Stone reflected, leaning back against the hotel window sill.

"Yes. It all seemed to happen so quickly," Karl added.

Melanie strolled to the window and watched through the filmy curtains as the departing trio headed for a waiting police jeep. Her eyebrows rose and a secret smile lit her face as she saw Surri and Oura embrace fondly before climbing aboard.

"What about the tomb?" Harry posed his burning question to the remaining members.

Stone sighed and nodded, "This is what I had in mind. I already told Harry so . . . see what you think." He proceeded to outline his thinking about how they should approach the Ministry for a grant and how they could leave out the part about Harry's secret entrance. His reasoning was that if it was still accessible, they could shortcut the tedious work of digging out the original entrance, get in, get the stuff and get out without anyone knowing they'd succeeded.

"Are you suggesting we steal the contents of the tomb?" Karl was incensed at the idea.

"No, not steal anything. Not exactly."

Melanie's voice came out cold, as she turned from the window. Her momentary delight with the young couple shattered by Stone's remarks. "Not exactly? What does that mean?"

"It means," Harry growled from his side of the room, "we can use any money they allot for the reopening of the tomb to reimburse me for my time and lost equipment. Assuming my access tunnel is still available that is."

"No that's not exac—"

"What makes your equipment so valuable?" Melanie stamped her foot, hands jammed into her hips, staring over at Harry, "You're planning on raiding that tomb, pocketing the government's money and pretending that we couldn't get in."

"Wait a min—"

"Shut up Stone!" She turned an angry face in his direction, her emotions scrambled like a bowl of eggs.

"No you wait a minute! I didn't say anything about keeping the stuff at all. I just think that we should get something besides a thank you for finding and retrieving it in the first place. Look, the professor has jeopardized his position at the university over this. Harry may or may not have lost whatever, and he did spend a lot of time working the site. We, all of us, have been through more than we care to remember over this, I just feel that there should be some monetary compensation. Is that so terrible?"

"I don't believe what I'm-"

"Mel," Karl spoke up un a quiet voice, "Stone has a point." He saw the angry flush beginning in her cheeks and held out his hand, "Sit here a minute and listen to me. Please." Melanie wavered for a second, then reluctantly sat down beside her father. "Now listen to me Mel. When I called the university they told me that I had violated the terms of my agreement and that I was likely to be suspended . . ."

"Why didn't you say something?" Melanie's anger flared again.

". . . and that they couldn't see their way clear to paying me the balance of the contract. Mel, without that money, or some money, we don't have enough to even get back home."

"We can wire the States. Your university there will send enough for that."

"I'm afraid not. The director at Asyut has already lodged a formal complaint with them and they are less than pleased with my actions over here. Dean Hastings has gone so far as to suspend my tenure." He paused, pressing her hand between his fingers, "There's nothing criminal in accepting a grant from the government to excavate a site.

We have the proper credentials, I'm still fairly well recognized in my field and we're supported by the police in Idfu. As Stone says, we'll still be giving the artifacts to the country, and they don't reward people financially for finding what belongs to them anyway. The grant money could be, well, for services rendered."

Melanie sat silently, head bowed. Her emotions still simmering from worry and confusion. After a long uncomfortable pause, she looked up at her father with an expression that was so like her mother, he had difficulty swallowing. A film of tears covered her sorrowful eyes and she leaned into his arms, clutching tightly and rocking him in her embrace.

"Ah dad, I didn't know. I'm so sorry."

Karl coughed lightly to regain his voice and cuddled her closer, softly whispering soothing assurances in her ear.

"I take it we're all on the same page then?" Harry ventured.

Melanie sat back, wiping her eyes and squeezing her father's hand, and nodded silently. Stone pushed off from the window sill and tentatively moved to the couch beside her, gingerly slipping his arm about her shoulder.

"For the record Mel, I didn't know about your dad's situation. My suggestion did have a less than ethical motive, I admit that. But it was never my intention to steal anything from the tomb. Honestly." She turned her damp eyes to his and closing them slowly, leaned her head on his chest.

******

A grant of ten thousand dollars was finally issued by the government after a series of long, frustrating negotiations with a bureaucratic administration that insisted on every 'I' and 't' ever written, being dotted and crossed. Karl was nearly drowned in paper work, providing written request after written request.

His credentials were scrutinized, his references checked and double checked; at least neither of the universities could deny his reputation in the field and they provided sufficient, albeit brief, documentation, to adequately satisfy the Ministry providing the grant. Harry and Stone experienced even more trouble since neither of them had any references to call upon and it was only Karl's sponsorship that allowed them to be included in the official research party. One obstacle cropped up, nearly sinking their hopes.

The Ministry insisted that an official government observer accompany them on the dig. In a desperate maneuver to save their bacon, Stone used all his guile and persuasion to convince both Sergeant Rafiman and the Ministry that the policeman was the perfect choice for the position of observer. After all, hadn't he been right there? And who else did the government have, as well informed about the site, to witness to their professional behaviour? Selecting the Sergeant had been a lucky stroke of genius.

The opportunity placed him squarely in the sights of the Cairo authorities, who found him to be competent, professional and worthy of a possible transfer to Cairo station, should this assignment prove successful. Rafiman had no trouble looking the other way when Stone had finally, and necessarily, taken him into their confidence. His eyes were filled with nothing but the almost assured culmination of his dream. The Cairo Police Force.

*****

"Thank goodness for those pictures Mel," Karl sighed, looking at the mass of rubble that was once the impressive facade over the tomb entrance. "What could have caused something like this?" The group stood beside the partially buried keystone, staring at the mess before them. It seemed such a short time ago when they had excitedly discovered the entrance and the subsequent chambers inside. Now it was difficult to determine the actual location of the opening. Stone pursed his lips and ambled off by himself, studying the ground as he went.

"Hey professor. This must be what those policemen referred to back in Idfu." He knelt down and examined the clear impressions of the footprints that appeared to originate from the middle of the rock debris.

"Now that's a puzzler," Harry commented, crouching down beside Stone and tracing the prints with his eyes.

"They certainly resemble rope sandals. See how clearly the fibers are defined in this one?" Karl kneeled down and leaned his nose close to the impression.

"But how could they stay so well defined? I can't believe that there's been no wind since we left." Melanie stood nervously, shifting from foot to foot.

"I believe our priority is the recovery of the artifacts gentlemen, is it not?" Rafiman avoided getting closer than he was to the marks in the sand, a feeling of distinct discomfort pervading his stomach.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I feel for those poor buggers buried under that mess." Stone tossed a final frown at the footprints and stood up, "it's your show now Harry. Let's see that secret entrance."

The strength of the explosion had shifted the entire rock mass and gaining Harry's entrance required a few tough hours of back breaking labour. When the opening was at last cleared, he took a flashlight and crawled inside, returning in a few moments to announce that it was going to be a tight fit getting through.

"But you can get through, right?" Rafiman jittered.

"Oh yeah, I can get through. Bringing out the stuff will be a problem though, we'll need some sacks or something and a rope to drag them back out. It's too squished to carry them ourselves."

"Good idea," Stone said, "Harry and I will go in, fill up the bags, tie 'em to the rope and you guys can haul them out."

"I'm going too." Karl insisted.

"Dad. Maybe you sho-"

"Absolutely not. I'm going inside. I am the official professional here and it's my name on the grant." He gave them all a stern look indicating the end of any argument.

"Okay by us," Harry shrugged, "let's do it." Harry's estimate of a tight fit turned out to be on the generous side, leaving the three men with angry scrapes and bruises from the rough surfaces they squeezed past with the empty packs. But he was correct- they got through. Three powerful beams from their flashlights lit up the room where Harry's belongings lay waiting.