New Pharaoh
by Paul Melniczek


New Pharaoh stared through the electo-eye, observing the host of Protectorate troops guarding the front of the Great Pyramid of Giza. He waved a confident hand, signaling General Asharatan to deploy the Asa-raiders, the fanatical bodyguards of New Pharaoh. From dozens of locations, the foot soldiers issued out into the cool night, pouring across the dunes like predatory rats. The Protectorate troops were lax, brimming with the arrogance of being in the elite guard. It would prove to be their downfall.

Several minutes passed and bright flashes sparked across the horizon, followed by blasts of exploding rocket-launchers aimed at the heavy artillery pieces the Protectorate used for their campaign of desert warfare. Well-placed shots crashed into the crucial engines of the motionless personnel carriers and handful of sand tanks. The surprised troops fired several frantic rounds, without seeing any visible targets. One of the tanks roared forward, only to be blasted into scrap fragments from a shouldered artillery cannon.

The shards of twisted metal ripped through the air, transformed into useless pieces of wreckage. The Protectorate soldiers knew they were caught off-guard, and a number of them tried to escape on foot. The raiders swarmed into the ranks of the enemy troops, asking for no quarter, and giving none. The battle was quickly over, the Asa-raiders originally slipping beneath the search-radar that was set to detect only the approach of large machinery - another miscalculation. 

New Pharaoh jogged towards the smoking debris, circled by two dozen watchful raiders and General Asharatan. "Only on such a night, when the skies proclaim the Four Points of Avatar, then will the key be found, so foretold the sage Djeda." The charismatic leader craned his head upward, gazing at the vastness of the Great Pyramid, and the eternal radiance of the universe above that dwarfed even this incredible structure.

"Sons of Egypt, the moment of truth nears. We have less than a day before the reinforcements arrive. Haste is needed." He walked past ruined vehicles and charred bodies, standing at last before the entrance. 

"I will need the interior lighting at full capacity. When we reach the first chamber, I go alone. I want the remainder of the raiders to salvage any usable equipment, and set up the long-range communication decoder. I fear our comrades are suffering great losses in diverting the eyes of the Protectorate away from this mission. It grieves me at their brave sacrifice, but vengeance will be ours in the end. General, see to my orders."

The warlord entered, solemn respect written on his darkly-handsome face. As he disappeared, all who watched felt the aura of power emanating invisibly from the man, who claimed direct lineage with the ancient houses of Egypt himself - not a single fighter would have hesitated to give their own life for New Pharaoh's.

The company went immediately to work, General Asharatan guiding the raiders to the necessary tasks. Time was not on their side, he thought, looking across the empty sands, knowing that fierce battles were being waged between the Protectorate and their own rebel forces, a tremendous mismatch from the beginning.

He couldn't afford to dwell on his distant men. Duty did not permit any regrets.


#

"Doesn't have much time left," said Galiene, Captain of Internal Protectorate Security, as he stared at the immense pyramid. "His dreams of the future have dissolved into dust, just like his ancestors' before him."

The brilliant desert sun, furious-orange, slowly sank behind the immense dune of sand, a worthy testimonial to the final chapter of the tumultuous power struggle of New Pharaoh, and Galiene hoped it would also prove a fitting end to the generation's most enigmatic figure. He'd arisen from the vast emptiness of the Egyptian desert, and now would make his last stand within the ancient walls of the Great Pyramid.

Rushtan, Protectorate Ambassador, peered through the electo-eye, the thick lenses unaffected by the endless swirls of dry gritty sand that encompassed so much of the northern continent these days, more sand than had ever existed before in recorded history. It was a shame, all the reclamation plants that were destroyed in the late century, the end of a far reaching agenda that held so much promise of a greener and wetter Afrikka, all blasted into worthless smithereens several decades ago. Billions of World Marks went into the incredibly expensive project, with the result a total annihilation of every last industrial mega-factory at the hands of the Fundamentalists. 

"He knows," replied Rushtan. "The forces against him were too overwhelming. In the end, he chose to return to his true home." The voice of the Egyptian held a noticeable tinge of reverence to it, not lost on Galiene.

"Ah, you respect him then, as I thought." His tone was slightly condescending, as of a confident teacher towards his brash pupil.

"Only a true Egyptian can properly relate to what New Pharaoh felt in his heart. A unification of the ancient tribes and an awakening of a long lost culture. I cannot say that all his methods were defensible, but the end goal, yes, that I sympathize with." Rushtan folded the electo-eye in his callused palms, and turned his piercing gaze on the Captain. "The past has shown that all empires inevitably gravitate towards a conclusion. The ending is always certain; the only question left is the means of capitulation and the date. Egypt relished in a golden era long ago, many still believe a new one awaits."


The Protectorate Ambassador folded his arms and stood erect, head held high, looking like a proud vision of the New Egypt he secretly wished for in his soul.

"Rushtan, you are beginning to sound like a new era prophet yourself. If such words were uttered within earshot of some of my peers, you would have an allegiance tribunal hauling your olive skin into World Court." Galiene gauged the man for a telling reaction, but knew there would be none found.

It was a game that the Captain constantly played with the Egyptian. The members of the Security Council were the most highly trained on the planet when it came to the arts of deception and political intrigue, and this fact was not lost on Rushtan.

"I beg your pardon. One can distance their emotions only so far, seeing kinsmen being misguided to their unfortunate end." He knew that Galiene didn't believe him. For someone to have reached such a position as Security member required an astounding measure of cunning and power, as well as the necessary ruthlessness and treachery to move upwards, and Galiene achieved his lofty title through the usage of every conceivable avenue of advancement that was at his disposal.

He was hated and feared, as were all the Security members. Galiene was of course aware that Rushtan and his people held no love for him, but the Egyptians were a tougher breed than most. They were more difficult to read. Fear was not an emotion that was common to them.

"I'll overlook your weakness, Rushtan. But don't forget who holds your reins."

"My thanks. You'll be pleased to be leaving our country soon, I've no doubt."

Galiene was glad that the episode was drawing to a close. The desert and its bleak, inhospitable environment were an annoyance that he would be very happy to depart from. "How could you tell. It is so obvious?" Galiene smiled, the gesture making him look more like a fox than human with his bristled red beard and shifty gaze.

Galiene felt a prickle through his cloth-armor suit, an indication that the energy field was kicking into recharge cycle. The blowing sand caused the body protector to work much harder than in other regions, and it was simply one more nuisance to be tolerated.

A gray-suited sentry approached, waiting for the signal to speak, stopping a good ten paces away from the Captain. To come any nearer would risk almost certain death, resulting from an infringement of a Security member's protection zone. Galiene gestured for the man to speak.

"Sir, all precautions are in readiness, the perimeter is totally sealed through the Grav-chek system, aerial Laser Copters are stationary, and the 2nd Sand Brigade has reported in."

"Continue." Galiene already knew what the message would convey.

"Sir, the last remnants of the eastern rebel unit have been decimated. When the transport of Sand Dragons arrived, it did not take long to take out their remaining armor."

The Captain nodded to himself, grim, sea-ice eyes visualizing what that carnage looked like. The older Desert Krawlers, the main hardware of the rebel fighters, with quadruple-mounted turrets and dated energy walls, against the mighty Sand Dragons.

"Ah, Rushtan. Behold the power of the Protectorate. Death rolls into Egypt, and its victim will be New Pharaoh and his rabble."

The Sand Dragons were the fist of the World Protectorate. Manufactured from a secret alloy that was known to only the highest ranking officials, they were the back breakers in the desert related operation. The juggernauts were unstoppable, able to churn through sand as easily as mud, submersible if needed, and strengthened by the Prime One energy field, which could withstand a low level thermonuclear blast. The guided laser beams fixed atop the monsters could knock an ICBM out of the stratosphere.

Such precautions became necessary resulting from the proliferation of antiquated nuclear weapons in long years past. There still existed a few rogue plutonium factories in areas of unrest, although they were becoming rarer. An attack had obliterated the city of New Berlin only a decade ago, causing a sizable setback for the World Protectorate. Galiene fixed his gaze on the sentry. "Await my order for the final stage. Dismissed." He waved his hand for the sentry to leave. 

Rushtan watched the gesture with mute resentment. The man reeked of overconfidence as he gave orders to destroy Rushtan's beleaguered countrymen. Great control was necessary for Rushtan to avoid assaulting the cold Security Member on the spot. A lesser man would have succumbed. And paid the deadly price.
#

Galiene stared outside a small window from his headquarters, Rushtan accompanying him once more. Dusk captured the desert, the shadows lengthening from the timeless dunes, and the massive structure of the pyramid dominated the landscape; a monument that defied the ages and the vortex of change, one of the greatest works of mankind that still retained a cloak of mystery as to its nature, design, and purpose.

"Quite an achievement, isn't it?" Rushtan's low tone was one of respect as he continued. 

"For all the scientific discoveries that have been uncovered through the eons, the secret of the pyramid remains veiled. No generation can lay claim to finding the key which unlocks the intent of its creators. Despite the excavation of additional secret chambers inside the pyramid in the early years of the 21st century, researchers have never managed to reveal the hidden puzzle, and eventually ceased looking."

Galiene cared little for the past, there was too much work to be done in the present. He would just as soon blast apart the pyramids and finish up with his mission, but there were strict guidelines he must adhere to concerning historical areas. Strange thing, he thought, how the Security Council held such esteem to the physical creations of people but remained apathetic to the lives of any who opposed them.

The golden sun vanished behind the dunes, ushering in nightfall, and Galiene moved away from the window, sitting down at a metal table inside the makeshift portable headquarters. Food and wine were brought in, and Rushtan courteously waited until the Captain was comfortable before he seated himself. The fare consisted of dates, figs, and seasoned beef, along with ample containers of spicy red wine.

Galiene glanced at the monitor network set up in the rear of the tent, and the different screens showed views around the Great Pyramid, ground level and air, as well as troop deployment positions surrounding the structure. One screen displayed the progress of an incoming armored division, the one containing the Sand Dragons.

He pointed at the monitor, gaining Rushtan's attention.

"There they are, Rushtan. The mighty arm of The Protectorate, the vanquishers of New Pharaoh." He peered at the lumbering behemoths with a hungry gleam to his eye, and couldn't help gloating in front of the Ambassador. 

"This will serve as a bitter lesson to any future idealists. I'm sure you Egyptians will make a martyr of him, but he will eventually be long forgotten, or at best used as an example showing the folly of defying the Protectorate. He could have saved himself, you know. He refused our offer." Rushtan fixed his eyes on the Captain. "New Pharaoh chose principles and hope over what he considered a betrayal to his people, aligning with the Protectorate."

"And what of yourself? Galiene pointed an accusing finger at the Ambassador. "You interact in full cooperation with us. Is that in the best interest of your people?"

"The welfare of Egypt is always foremost in my mind," replied Rushtan. "Survival is the priority. To what purpose would breaking away from the Protectorate bring us? We are not given any option at the moment."

As Galiene listened to the Egyptian's answer, he detected a hint of sarcasm as well as something else. What was it? Hope? He turned his head to look at the incoming reinforcements. A look of surprise came over his face as the transmitting camera panned the regiment from further away. The Captain counted twelve Sand Dragons, eight more than what he'd requested. The Protectorate was not taking any chances here. There were only sixteen of the machines in the worldwide force.

Rushtan also noticed. "It would seem that New Pharaoh has created much concern in the eyes of the Protectorate. They're not holding back in their counter- assault. From your reaction, I assume you weren't even notified."

Galiene bristled with anger at the statement, but refused to answer and thus show the Ambassador that he'd struck a nerve. He hadn't known, and that bothered him.

There were waves of discontent reverberating within the upper circles of his council. Recent setbacks in several hostile frontiers had resulted in a growing fear that the Protectorate was being stretched too far and wide. They did not want anything to go wrong here, it seemed, and were taking precautions to ensure a swift victory.

"I think it is more in the line of making a statement as to what the consequences are when acting against us, Ambassador. New Pharaoh is trapped like a desert rat, most of his followers are dead or captured, and his remaining artillery scattered throughout the wild, existing on borrowed time, just like he is. If there are any Egyptians who can find solace in such a pathetic uprising, then my opinion of this country diminishes even more. To tell you the truth, I expected more fight from Egypt. Your countrymen disappoint me. You may leave me until morning."

Rushtan stood up and made a short bow of acquiescence; enough to display the proper amount of respect, and enough to show that he was still his own man. He exited, walking out the tent entrance which was guarded by over a dozen expressionless sentries.

Galiene returned to the monitors and saw that the Sand Dragons were now inside the camp perimeter. They kept a healthy distance away from the normal armored vehicles and would complete their exhaustive systems check during the night. 

The majority of the screens were fixed on the Great Pyramid, with varying views and angles. The landscape was shrouded in darkness, and a bright crescent moon gleamed whitely overhead, as ageless as the monumental structure below.

Staring at the pyramid, Galiene found himself feeling some of the awe cast off by the mountain of stone. Here was an achievement that survived thousands of years, long after the creators' empire had fallen. And what of his own empire? What legacy would it leave for the next generations to come? For that matter, would there be any that remained after them?

To outward appearances, the pyramid seemed abandoned. Only the Protectorate soldiers were visible, guarding the narrow entrance. There could be no escape for New Pharaoh and his personal guard. Maybe his troops couldn't force their way in, but logistics were on
the Protectorate side. 

Hunger was their ally. If they had to wait the rebels out, then so be it. What was one more annoyance at this point?
#

Rushtan shivered against the cool night breeze, gazing at the pyramid less than a mile from where he stood. It was almost like going back in time. Thousands of years ago his ancestors had seen the same picture he now saw before him. The indomitable pyramid, challenging the very elements as it slumbered through the ages, evidence of the spirit of man when he is consumed by a relentless fire to embrace immortality.

The Ambassador reached into a tiny opening inside his brown robe and inserted two objects very deep into his ear canal, to the point that he was in pain. He could tolerate it, that was all right. Rushtan then lay down onto the blanket that he'd brought with him. The guards were not allowed to question his actions, so he was not concerned. The time is near, he thought, as he stared up into the heavens, watching the tiny pinpricks of starlight that spoke to him of destiny and infinity. A shooting star streaked across the desert moonscape, a vision of hope to the Egyptian.
#

Rushtan lay sleeping later that night in the midst of the Protectorate encampment, undisturbed and alone. A milky white glow began to emanate from the Great Pyramid, very faintly for a few brief seconds, and then the entire desert lit up in a bright flash of brilliant radiance, as a long forgotten power was brought to awakening. High-pitched tones resonated from the structure, silently carrying across the desert, penetrating energy fields surrounding the Protectorate, seeping into the adamant walls of the mighty Sand Dragons as well. The fantastic display lasted scant seconds, but the attack struck with devastating consequences.

Soldiers screamed in agony at the sonic vibrations, utterly surprised and helpless against the unseen enemy. Guards, technicians, and weapon controllers all felt the hand of the ancients, awakened from dormancy after centuries of undisturbed sleep. Soon, the desert slept again, but this time carrying in its phantom-grip the drifting shades of Protectorate soldiers. 
#

Rushtan regained consciousness, his head splitting in pain. He felt nauseous and light headed. Groaning, he opened his eyes and found himself resting on a soft bed inside a large tent. "Ambassador, are you all right?" A deep voice, heavy with dialect, came from the bedside. Rushtan leaned on his elbow, seeing several men nearby, some watching over him. They all wore desert fighting garb emblazoned with a golden rod on the chest.

"Well, I'm a little weak, and my head feels terrible. It could be worse, though."

"Ah, the Ambassador is up, I see." A new figure came inside the tent, broad- shouldered with a hawkish look to him. Rushtan recognized the man as Asharatan, general of the rebel army.

"A new dawn shines upon the sands today, my friend. With new hope." Rushtan sat up, his vision still blurry.

"Where do we stand now, Asharatan? What has transpired while I was sleeping?" The general walked up to him, dismissing some of the men. "There is much work to be done yet, but the sun winks an eye at our cause. The invaders are destroyed, everyone within a several mile radius. Dead from the sonic blast emitted from the pyramid."

"Galiene too?" Rushtan massaged his forehead while absorbing the implications of the general's words.

"Yes," spat Asharatan, "the fool realized his peril too late. He was overconfident. A fatal mistake. We are now armed with the mightiest weapon the Protectorate ever created. Twelve fully operational Sand Dragons." His eyes glittered, voice rich with intensity.

"A fantastic success, then," answered the Ambassador. "They will not dare oppose us now."

"Exactly," replied the general. " The Sand Dragons are being scattered as we speak, and will reach strategic positions guarding our borders. We now possess enough firepower to hold them off indefinitely. And, our agents have infiltrated the production factory where they are created. It functions no longer."

Rushtan stood up, shaking his head in wonder. "Egypt is free again. Who would've believed it could happen so quickly. Tell me I'm not dreaming."

"You're awake and alert, my friend." He clapped his countryman on the back. Rushtan smiled broadly. "Others will come under our wing also, if we agree to defend them. The Protectorate is no longer unbeatable."

"They never were. Their lust for power left them vulnerable to a well devised counter strike. They will most likely attempt to make a treaty with us." The two men clasped warmly as more rebels entered the tent.

"New Pharaoh approaches, General. He is on his way." The young guard who headed the incoming group greeted the men and went back outside again.

"What a wondrous thing," said the Ambassador. "The discovery of the ancient Hall of Records after all these centuries, and how he unlocked the secrets of the great ones. I still can't believe it."

"Yes, but that is why he is truly the New Pharaoh," the general answered. "He possesses knowledge and wisdom above all Egyptians, and is armed with the strongest weapons of the old age and new. He will usher in another Golden Era of Egypt."

A commotion near the entrance caught there attention as numerous guards poured in. "All hail! New Pharaoh arrives!"

The tent grew suddenly quiet as a tall man slowly entered, lighter of skin than the others, with a shock of straight long hair, obsidian as the night, wearing the protective suit of a Security member now.

A gold circlet sat upon his head, and his eyes shone of passion and vision. There was an aura of energy around him, present before he had ever donned Galiene's armor. In his hand he held a long scepter, and a jeweled medallion hung from his neck. Everyone inside knelt on one knee in homage, and New Pharaoh swept his iron gaze over the assembly. His words were dynamic - his voice mesmerizing.

"My people. Today dawns a new day for our land. The enemy has been defeated and the silence of our injustice has found the sweet taste of revenge. Egyptians again rule Egypt, and I will lead us out of the desert in glorious victory. Arise, and follow me to our rightful place beneath the invincible cloak of the Great Pyramid."

A shaft of sunlight broke through one of the tent windows, showering New Pharaoh in golden splendor, and he gazed at the Great Pyramid, a half-smile creasing his face.

"Thank you, my fathers."


