Aspergillus Flavus

The backhoe tears at the earth, digging up rich, brown soil.

“You’d better come up with something, Cliff… And soon,” Randall warns.

Schooled at Cambridge in England, reed-thin, bi-racial Randall Fakir Raheem speaks four languages. As the King’s Counsellor of State and liaison for the Valley of the Dead Excavation Project, Randall has developed a fascination with native folklore.

Small in stature with a prevailing roguish smile, Cliff Romer often gets away with his mistakes because he resembles a carefree leprechaun. Cliff calls himself an idea man. Most people would call him a con man. An expatriate from Revere, Massachusetts, Cliff came to Kantasi to make a killing selling air conditioners in a country where it's ninety degrees by nine in the morning, only to discover King Hamza’s cousins owned the market. He switched to selling imported stolen cars.

Then, one night, he drew an inside straight in a card game with Randall. Cliff bet Randall that if he won, Randall would get him an audience with King Hamza. Cliff told King Hamza that his ancestors had served King Apep, “The Serpent King,” and that he knew the location of Apep’s 4,000-year-old tomb.

Cliff thought he’d find enough trinkets to make King Hamza happy, but the con got conned. After digging in the Valley of the Dead for ten months, all he has to show is some torn papyrus, a pair of broken spears from the fifteenth century, an unearthed armored car from World War I, and a dozen cavernous holes.

Gunner Graben, Cliff’s broad-shouldered, young assistant, beams as the ground-penetrating radar gun buzzes.

“Got something! And it’s big!”

Eight men join Gunner in tearing up the earth.

Cliff’s hopeful expression dissipates when Gunner brings him a sample of what they’ve dug up.

Cliff tosses an empty tin can across the field.

“It’s a garbage dump! We found tin instead of gold!”

Randall scans the collection of cans.

“What is Ken-L Ration?”

“Dog food.”

“Right. There was a dog food factory a few miles from here when I was a boy,” Randall remembers. “They must’ve buried their garbage here.”

“Great. Maybe you should call this “The Valley of the Dead Cans.’”

Three days pass before Gunner bursts into the excavation project’s trailer.

“A tomb! We’ve uncovered a tomb!”

Moments later, Cliff and Randall are staring at a stone mausoleum.

A saga depicting men in battle and then being executed is etched in the thin limestone portal.

Gunner eases open the doorway, following Cliff and Randall inside. The men cough uncontrollably until the dust clears.

The room contains fourteen crudely constructed, unadorned wooden coffins.

Looking at the violent images carved into the wall, Randall says, “This isn’t King Apep’s tomb. It’s the Tomb of Traitors, a group of dissidents who conspired to overthrow Apep.”

Looking at the rotted remains of sandals, tunics, and tarnished shackles, Cliff clicks his tongue. “So, no gold, no artifacts…”

“Not likely.”

Gunner carefully removes the lid of one of the coffins. It nearly disintegrates in his hands.

Cliff gasps. “It’s just a torso. Are they all like this?”

“King Apep wanted to make an example of his enemies. Their heads, hands, and legs were cut off and fed to his dogs.”

“I guess they didn’t have Ken-L Ration back then, eh, Randy?”

“Apep’s punishment was effective. There weren’t any more attempts to kill him after that. His betrayal came from within.”

“We might be able to turn a profit on this yet. Maybe the museum will be interested in some four-thousand-year-old spare parts.”

King Hamza pets his pet black cat. It hisses at Cliff. “Strange, Osiris never does that. Are you sure you’re being honest with me, Clifford?”

“You can see for yourself, Your Grace. This isn’t the Serpent King’s tomb.”

A spry eighty-four, King Hamza has ruled Kantasi for fifty years. Hospitalized twice in the past year with an irregular heartbeat, he’s finally begun to feel his age. Hamza’s most significant accomplishment was spearheading Kantasi’s independence from Egypt. Anxious to enhance his legacy, Hamza agreed to finance Cliff’s search for King Apep’s tomb. With the money from a successful dig, King Apep hopes to bring more water from the mountains to Kantasi’s cities. Kantasi is arid, mostly comprised of unforgiving desert lands. A twelve-mile stretch of terrain, ironically called the Land of the Dead, is one of the few areas abundant with soil and greenery, and King Hamza isn’t pleased Cliff has been digging it up.

King Hamza glances at the crumbling coffin and the stained torso. “This project is hemorrhaging money. I’m giving you one more month to find King Apep’s tomb, or someday, an archeologist might be digging you up.”

Coughing harshly, King Hamza sets his dog down.

“Come, Osiris.”

“He means it, doesn’t he, Randy?”

“He hasn’t stayed king for half a century by laughing things off.”

“Are you going to have a good laugh when I’m stuffed in a sarcophagus?”

“Of course not. I want you to succeed,” Randall replies. “You’re a likable fellow, even if you do cheat at cards.”

“I’ve never cheated at cards in my life!” Cliff says defensively.

Randall laughs heartily. “I watched you deal yourself the winning hand from the bottom of the deck.”

“Then why didn’t you call me out?”

“You said you could find the Serpent King’s treasure. If you find it, we’ll be rich, but so will Kantasi. We would become a major player in Middle Eastern affairs. People will come from all over the world to see the Serpent King’s treasure. I also happen to have placed a big bet on you finding the treasure.”

“Then you’re backing a loser. I’m ready to quit.”

“You can’t. I have a feeling we’re close.”

“If I quit, the only thing I lose is my pride. If I fail, I lose my head.”

“Our greatest weakness lies in giving up,” Randall says. “The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time.”

“Did you just make that up?”

“No. Thomas Edison said it. He failed a thousand times before he succeeded in creating the light bulb.”

“True. He finally succeeded when he stole Nikola Tesla’s idea,” Cliff replies. “But thanks for the inspiration. We’ll start digging again tomorrow.”

Working non-stop, Cliff’s men find coins and more tin cans but no tomb.

Gunner parks the backhoe near a pair of palm trees. It backfires, emitting a column of smoke.

“Fitting,” Cliff comments, “Our mission and our backhoe are both on their last legs…Hey Randy, look at those palm trees and how they crisscross one another. They look like an archway. And there aren’t any other palm trees in the valley…”

“We’ve got two days left, and you’re focusing on trees?” Randall comments.

The ground shakes, nearly knocking the men off their feet.

The backhoe sinks into the ground, disappearing beneath a geyser of dirt.

The men run to the backhoe, looking down into a massive, newly formed chasm.

“What is it, a sinkhole?” Cliff asks.

“Maybe. Look, next to the backhoe…”

“A door!” Cliff shouts. “We’ve found King Apep’s tomb!”

A few hours later, Cliff and Randall stand before two gold-covered doors.

Randall studies the inscriptions and pictures of king cobras etched into the doors.

“Well, you read ancient Egyptian, Randy. Is this the tomb of the Serpent King?”

“Judging by the snakes, I’d say yes.”

Cliff looks up, smiling at Gunner, who fidgets excitedly along with the other men gathered around the chasm's rim.

“Get down here with a crowbar, Gunner! We’re going to crack this tin can open!”

Gunner carefully prys open the doors. Turning on their flashlights, Cliff, Randall, and Gunner bound inside.

The men cough, brushing aside the dust circulating in the air.

Something moving in the shadows attracts Randall’s attention.

He points his flashlight at the center of the room.

Raising its head upright, a giant king cobra spreads its neck flap, hissing.

Randall faints. Gunner catches him before he hits the floor.

“That snake’s gotta be ten feet long,” Gunner says warily. “What do we do?”

“Stand still and pray.”

Cliff wakes up, and Gunner quickly covers his mouth before he can speak.

The king cobra slithers past them. Pausing at the door to make eye contact with Cliff, it hisses at him, burrowing into an excavated pile of dirt.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t have a mate,” Cliff says, shining his light around the room.

The glint of gold is all around them. Even the walls appear to be covered in gold.

The main room has ornate furniture, an alabaster lotus chalice, and gold jewelry boxes brimming with necklaces, bracelets, and precious stones. Gold statues of somber warriors stand in the corners, ostensively guarding the tomb.

The next room is filled with ornate clothing, including tunics, gloves, headdresses, and sandals. A hand-painted rendering of a striking woman covers one of the walls.

Randall reads an inscription on the opposite wall.

 “…A king will die… Cliff! We need to get out of here right now!”

“Are you nuts? We did it! We found The Serpent King’s tomb!”

“No, we haven’t. I misinterpreted the hieroglyphics on the door. This isn’t King Apep’s tomb! It’s Shondel’s tomb! We need to leave here immediately!”

“Any relation to Tommy James and the Shondells? Who’s Shondel?”

“A sorcerer. She was believed to be the daughter of a Roman general and an Egyptian noblewoman. Her beauty and cunningness rivaled Cleopatra’s. She had a king cobra tattoo on her forearm that appeared to move whenever she cast a spell. Shondel gave King Apep the power to control the serpents he used against his enemies.”

“I can’t imagine battle-hardened soldiers running from snakes,” Cliff says.

“You did. You fainted! They weren’t mere snakes. They were serpents said to be twenty feet long. In exchange for his power, King Apep promised to marry Shondel. But unlike many monarchs who married for power, King Apep loved his wife, so he reneged on his promise. The queen was found dead in her bedroom soon after. A dead king cobra was wrapped around her neck. King Apep built Shondel a palace and a tomb where she put her gold and jewels, but he still hesitated to marry her…”

“Because he knew he’d wind up with a snake around his neck,” Cliff interjects.

“He went to your ancestor, Moeb, who was Shondel’s most trusted bodyguard, and got him to turn on her. Moeb put poison in her wine. To make sure she was dead, they broke her neck. Then, they took her body to her tomb and sealed her up in it. As King Apep and Moeb were leaving, they heard her scream vengeance against them, Kantasi, and anyone who dared to enter her tomb.”

“And I had you pegged as a sensible guy. It’s a nice fairy tale, though.”

“Apep was dead within a week, bitten by a king cobra. Moeb fled the country, winding up in Saxony.”

“Well, that answers my next question,” Cliff says cynically.

“He was found dead in what later became London, his neck broken and a dead king cobra next to him.”

“Ha! They don’t have cobras in England!”

“Precisely… Are you sure you want to mess with this kind of magic?” Randall asks.

“You’re the one who kept pushing me.”

“This is different. We’re not robbing the tomb of some cowardly king. This woman made a pharaoh bow to her.”

“You’re letting your interest in the local hocus pocus get to you, Randy. Besides, the reward outweighs the risk.”

Randall backs toward the entrance. “It’s written that anyone who disturbs Shondel’s tomb will die. Even speaking her name is supposed to bring misfortune.”

“Forget what you’ve read. Go with what you can see. Look, we all have to die sometimes. I want a big fat bankroll when I go. And if my ancestor lured Shondel here, and he wasn’t afraid, then I shouldn’t be either.”

“The men are still going through the various rooms, but there appear to be over two thousand objects in the tomb,” Cliff says proudly.

King Hamza coughs loudly. He pets Osiris, who purrs contentedly.

“But you say this isn’t King Apep’s tomb. It’s Shondel’s.”

 “So, what if we failed at finding King Apep’s grave? We found the richest tomb in history!”

King Hamza and Randall exchange guarded glances.

“What’s the matter? You two aren’t scheming to cut me out of our deal, are you?”

“You’ll get what’s coming to you.” King Hamza replies. “We all might.”

“Aww, Your Majesty,” Cliff moans. Have you joined the curse of the sorceress club, too?”

“I’d be less concerned if one of the tablets Randall deciphered didn’t promise famines and plagues if Shondel’s tomb was disturbed.”

“Aren’t you the man who liberated Kantasi from Egypt? This find will put you back on the cover of Time Magazine. People will line up all the way to Damascus to see Shondel’s crypt. You’ve been here for what, three days since we opened the tomb? And nothing’s happened.”

“You’re right, Clifford.” Adjusting his top hat, King Hamza coughs, throwing his arm around Cliff. “Sometimes I get caught up in my country’s superstitions. Let’s take a look at Shondel’s legacy.”

Randall shakes his head as he watches King Hamza and Cliff walk away. “Shondel’s been waiting four thousand years for her vengeance,” he says to himself. “Another week, a month, won’t matter to her.”

Dr. Hayman Hurt, King Hamza’s personal physician, grimaces with remorse as he covers the King’s body.

Prince Jabare allows himself a few tears before composing himself.

“He’s barely been back a week. He was tired, and that cough bothered him, but this…”

“Aspergillus flavus,” Dr. Hurt replies. “He got it from breathing in the air in Shondel’s tomb. It’s a fungus that can damage the immune system. It worked its way from his lungs to the rest of his body.”

“And Osiris? What killed his cat?”

“I’m not a veterinarian, but I’d say its neck was broken.”

Cliff hangs up his cell phone.

“I’ve never spoken to a Prince on the phone before,” he says, stunned. “I guess I can scratch that off my bucket list.”

“We’ll have to have a doctor examine the men,” Randall replies.

“Prince Jabare said it wasn’t contagious.”

“It’s not just the King’s death that worries me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t want to tell you because you’d say I’m being superstitious. Three of our men who returned home have died under mysterious circumstances. They all had something from Shondel’s tomb. That ring we gave Jay Brockington? It was missing when he was found, but his ring finger had been cut off and stuffed in his mouth. The jeweled knife we gave Paul Balin was missing when he was found in his bedroom. But it had been used to cut his heart out. And both men’s necks were broken.”

“Coincidence, not a curse. You said there were three men. Who was the third?”

“Gunner. He was strangled, and his neck was broken. Pieces of skin were found near his body,” Randall says.

“At least the police might be able to identify the killer through his DNA.”

“It was snakeskin.”

The photographer points his camera at Cliff.

“…Stand directly in front of the tomb. Good. Now put on the top hat.”

“Are you sure this isn’t in bad taste? I mean, King Hamza’s only been dead a few months, and the top hat thing was his schtick.”

“It’ll be fine. We’re a U.S. publication. People here won’t see it,” the photographer replies. “How does it feel to be filthy rich?”

“…Lonely…”

As the photographer packs up his gear, a tall, dark-haired woman in a slinky black outfit approaches Cliff.

“Boy, I really hope I can help you.”

“You can,” she replies, her accented tone smooth and exotic. “I represent Prince Jabare. We are taking control of this excavation site. There are to be no more photographs, no more looting.”

“But King Hamza and I made a deal with the Kantasi Museum. They get the treasure. King Hamza gets the recognition, and I get six million.”

“You’ll get what’s coming to you, Moeb…” the woman whispers. “But first, I need to see that all the artifacts are intact.”

Mesmerized by her beauty, Cliff blurts out, “You want a tour? Sure! Follow me… Say, that’s an interesting tattoo you have on your arm. It looks like it’s moving. Is that a snake?”

“Yes, a king cobra.”

Seated at his desk in the project’s office trailer, Randall lets out a series of phlegmy coughs as he reviews the list of artifacts in Shondel’s tomb.

The floor shakes. Randall is thrown out of his chair, landing on his shoulder. The lights in the office flutter and go out.

Randall dusts himself off as the lights come back on.

“…Must’ve been a tremor…,” Randall says to himself. Heading outside, he treks to the excavation site.

Shondel’s tomb is gone, sucked into a massive, bottomless hole.

Prince Jabare inspects the excavation site.

“So, this is my father’s legacy. A bottomless pit. When did this happen?"

“Yesterday afternoon,” Randall replies. “The electricity went off for a few seconds around noon. Then I heard what sounded like an explosion. It turned out to be the site collapsing.”

“There was a blackout at noon throughout the entire country yesterday. You’re sure Shondel’s tomb isn’t down there somewhere?”

“It might be, but we haven’t been able to locate it. We dropped a line measuring a mile down there and still didn’t hit bottom.”

“So, Shondel’s gold, her jewels…”

“Still belong to Shondel.”

“Where’s Cliff Romer?”

“Wherever this pit ends. One of our men saw him enter the tomb with the woman you sent here before it collapsed.”

“I didn’t send anyone. What did she look like?"

“She was tall and beautiful, with silky black hair.”

“Did she have a snake tattoo on her forearm?”

“So, you knew her. Who was she?”

“Shondel.”