“I’d venture it came off some sort of monument,” Zeibig said.
“It was buried almost a foot beneath the river sediment,” Summer said. “I discovered it when I moved our anchor line. I probed the vicinity, didn’t locate any other fragments.”
Riki leaned over the stone and studied the markings and image.
“Can you read hieroglyphics?” Summer asked.
Riki’s eyes remained locked on the stone as she shook her head. “Just a few symbols here and there. I can see a notation for the Nile and the god Osiris. It most likely represents an homage to the Nile, a common theme.”
“How about the carved image?” Dirk asked. “We all decided it depicted a woman in a boat, followed by another boat with archers.”
“I would suggest it represents a ceremonial voyage, perhaps the queen or a princess, with a royal escort,” Riki said. “It could be just a dignitary taking a voyage downriver to Memphis, with good wishes offered to the Nile and its goddess.”
“Makes sense,” Summer said. “Anything of interest about the boats, Rod?”
“Standard reed craft, typical Nile transport. No ornamentation is depicted, as is normally found on royal or ceremonial boats.”
“I know some experts in Cairo who might shed some light on it,” Riki said. “Do you think I could borrow it for them to examine?”
“We’ll need to turn it over to the archeology department at Assiut University first,” Summer said, “but I’m sure they’d have no problem in loaning it or providing a duplicate casting.”
“That would be fine. Did you make any other discoveries?”
“Just the piling remnants—or what we think are piling remnants. My task before bedtime is to organize our sub-bottom sonar records into a coherent map of targets and see how they line up.”
“Which reminds me,” Zeibig said, “I have some notes to take on Dr. Stanley’s barge while things are still relatively fresh in my head.” He stood and cleared the remaining plates off the table. The others joined in, putting away the food and dishes. Summer and Zeibig retreated to the cramped galley table below to work on their assignments.
“How about you?” Riki asked. “No homework?”
Dirk shook his head with a smile. “Not when there’s a desert sunset to watch. Join me on the skyline terrace?” He pointed to a ladder that led to the wheelhouse roof.
Riki gave him a bemused look, then climbed the ladder. Dirk grabbed the rest of the wine and a pair of glasses and followed her. The small roof held only a high-backed cushioned bench secured to the forward rail. Dirk untied the lashings and dragged the bench until it faced west, across the river. The sun was already dipping beneath the horizon, casting an explosion of orange across the sky.
“The best part of the day in Egypt,” Dirk said, pouring two glasses of wine and joining Riki on the bench.
“At last, the heat is vanquished.” She watched an antiquated dhow sail upriver with a light breeze at its back. “I don’t know how the locals survive it.”
“A few thousand years of genetic acclimation probably helps.”
“I don’t think I could get used to it, even in a few thousand years.” She looked at Dirk. “Must seem like a long ways from the ocean.”
“Yes, but I’m partial to warmer climates. Summer and I grew up in Hawaii.”
“How did you both end up at NUMA?”
“We were always around the water. She studied oceanography, while I went into marine engineering. Eventually we united with our father at NUMA, and now we work on underwater projects around the world.”
She could see the joy in his face. “You’re lucky to do what you love.”
“Digging up ancient mummies between press conferences doesn’t sound so bad either,” he said.
Riki nodded. “I enjoy the work . . . Some elements of the job can be difficult,” she replied vaguely.
Dirk waited for her to go on. She said no more. He could see there was a fragility in her eyes. He had seen it earlier, during the attack in the trench, some distant sense of vulnerability. It was a trait he found highly alluring.
The s
un vanished, and the sky turned a ruddy gray. An uptick in the breeze off the Nile lent a sudden briskness to the air, and Riki nudged closer to Dirk.