The Sands of Time

"I am your God and you shall worship me."

He stared at his people balefully, this beautiful Abyssinian tyrant. None dared to disobey his wishes, afraid of the curse those vivid green eyes might level upon them.

The people watched, quivering, apprehensive as the last stone rolled into place. Their God walked amongst them and had driven them hard. He ruled their ancestors for millennia, and they had bowed to his every desire, every whim. They had built this magnificent edifice for him, not knowing what they had created. A collective sigh arose as he turned his back to them; no one was to be toyed with, and no claws would tear their hides this day. 

Soon, the heavens would once again be his. Two thousand years he had waited, but now the stars aligned, north and south. Meticulous planning, such as his, deserved its reward.

Mizar and Kochab, his Bear cousins in the night sky, guided him home. For now, he needed these weak and malleable people. They ran backward and forward at his command like mice in a maze, lost and seeking the direction only he could give. And like mice, he played with them. He taunted them with his power. Once those translucent orbs fixed their glare on the weak human faces, they were his to command.

His ancestor Khufu had started building the temples and had given him the plans to build the Great Pyramid, the machine that would take him to the sky. Soon, he would take his rightful place beside Ra, ruling the universe.

He thought of the powerful words he had uttered as the architects and stonemasons fell at his feet.

"I am your God and you shall worship me." He almost purred with pleasure.

Reaching the golden divan, he stretched and yawned. He would rest in the shade. It had been a long day, and his servants would bring him the finest meat and fish to dine upon. A silver chalice to drink from was resting on the floor beside him. His pleasure with his progress was clear. A self-satisfied smile lingered on his face. What was that expression he had heard? Like the cat that got the cream. It suited him well.

 –0–

It was dark when Bastet awoke, the thick furry blackness broken by the twinkling of a thousand constellations that reflected in his eyes. "Home," he thought. He stretched his long, slender limbs and looked around him. Where were his people? How dare they leave him here alone? He raised his voice and wailed at the moon. Still, no one came. Angrily, he stalked his way to the great machine. They would know of his displeasure in the daylight. For now, he would explore and find himself a willing female. There were many awaiting his nightly visits.

–0–

The great pyramid stood undisturbed; another two thousand years passed. The sands of time eroded the fine marbled surfaces, but its secret mechanisms remained hidden. The engines had failed after the great flood, and Bastet had never flown to the stars. His reign of terror continued across the land of Egypt. He took many guises, Queen Sobeknefru, Shemsu, Amenhotep, and Ptolemy, and bided his time. 

He was getting tired. Even a God can not rule forever. He knew his time was coming, and he longed to return home. Every day, he watched the skies for a sign.

A vapour trail lazily wound its way through the clouds above, like a thread hanging from a ball of silken yarn. He stretched toward it as though he could pull it from the heavens. The flying machine looped, teasingly, above him. His eyes glowed like malachite, the stone of transformation as he watched. He would have it.

–0–

The pilot landed skillfully on the short runway.

"Well Doc, what do you think?"

"I think my stomach is still up there but my breakfast is down here. That's what I think." The green tinge to the professor's normally bronzed face faded slowly.

"It's a magnificent machine. Who would have thought that man would reach for the stars in my lifetime?"

"Aw Doc, you live in the past with all these tombs and sarcoffagy whatsits. We'll be in the stars while you're still underground."

A belly laugh erupted from the professor. He had room to laugh deeply. 

He patted his old friend on the back.

"There is still plenty to learn from history John, many believe they constructed the pyramids as flying machines. Look at the hieroglyphs on the columns at Karnak if you don't believe me. "

John's chin dropped in mock surprise.

"Sure Doc, little green men from Mars brought them here. Let's park this thing somewhere it won't be spotted, they said."

The two men strolled amiably back to the Aerodrome.

–0–

The entrance to the great pyramid was clear at last. The team of native workers crowded around the professor, sweat running in pools as he applauded their labour from the shade of his umbrella. 

"Enough. I shall explore inside tomorrow. We need to allow the air inside to freshen." 

He recalled the stories of Belzoni exploring the temple of Abu Simbel and the curse that followed him. Foolish stories, he thought, but Belzoni had died suddenly and painfully of dysentery, and his team packed up their tools all the same.

In the morning, John would drive him to Cairo, and he would telegraph the news to his sponsor. It would take months to strip the temple of its treasures and ship them back to England. He thought of his friend's flying machine. How quickly that could take this plunder home. He expected little trouble from the Egyptian ministers; his sponsor had dealt with them. His brow wrinkled with distaste. If only these treasures could remain here, to be seen by people from all over the world.

From his vantage point beneath the shady palm tree, Bastet stared at the group of animated men.

"Here they come, now. Now is the time. They think this is their time, but it is mine. I shall take my place in Heaven."

It was time to fool them once more.

He rolled swiftly onto his back. The Professor of Egyptology obediently reached down. Tickling the soft underbelly, he asked, "well cat, what shall we do today?"

Bastet replied,

"I am your god and you shall worship me."

The Professor smiled at the loud, Miaow, Miaow, Meeeeow.

The cat just blinked, knowingly.