Dark Mirror

Ibni waded out to a point where there were fewer obstacles and falling bits of material. He stopped where they could see a clear path between their location and the far shore, and already the PCU was up to its chest, forcing him to hold both arms almost at shoulder-height. So they set out, a metallic bird-man sloshing through the poisoned waters of the underworld, bringing his passengers to a distant glory of light. It was an image that struck all three as frighteningly familiar. Nergal and Nunna were soon shivering, for the air was as cold as the water. Nunna marveled at the great stalactites, and gazed away towards the windows with fearful eyes. Nergal was also looking that way. She knew of the adventures he’d had away there, for Morla had told her about it when they fled to the Lower Tunnels yesterday. Or had they been inside the vessel for two days? Her stomach grumbled and her throat was sore. It was a painful trial, no less because they were surrounded by water they could not drink. The exhaustion of days without sleep conspired with her thirst to make her dizzy. She fell into a daze as they made their way slowly towards the corridor, its light blazing out across the gloomy netherworld sea like a ghostly beacon-fire. Her thoughts were confused. She looked at the PCU’s beak-like face, and saw there a strange image from her earlier childhood. She didn’t know to what tribe of Canaan she was born, but they were a people who had served the terrible gods of Egypt, and these monsters still haunted her dreams. What Ibni had seen as a Bird-Man of Babylonian folklore she saw as Horus. “Horus the Praiser,” she said. “Horus the who?” Ibni wondered. “Horus was born after his father was murdered,” Nunna said. “He was always shown as a man with a hawk’s head, like your PCU, and he carried powerful weapons. When he was old enough, he set out with those weapons to avenge his father’s murder and defeat the god of the underworld.” “Sounds scary,” Ibni said. “Morla told me the stories, though I saw many of the statues and images as a small child. After I was captured and sold in your father’s city, Morla helped me understand the things I saw and how people expected me to act. I was deaf and mute, but she spoke to me inside my mind. She taught me lots of things—even the stories about the gods.” Ibni thought quietly. Then he asked, “Was Horus like the Bird-Man?” “No. The Bird-Man is an evil monster that serves up the wrath of the gods, but Horus was supposed to be a good guy—the lord of immortal life who rises from death. Beyond that I remember very little. I suppose I didn’t pay too much attention, because I don’t believe Horus ever existed.” “You don’t think the gods are real?” Ibni asked. “I guess there might be one that’s real. Morla thinks so. Anyway, she said that Horus was supposed to be a fighter, and at the same time a shepherd who calls out to those who spend their lives foolishly. He was said to be able to show humans the way out of the dark sea to something called the Foundation, which is like a place of rebirth after death. Morla called it the Source.” Nergal chuckled. “What’s so funny?” Ibni asked. “I was just wondering, Horus,” he said. “Are you the monster, or are you the good guy?” Ibni didn’t answer, and silence resumed, disturbed only by the soft swishing of their movement through the water. Nunna was still thinking of the startling analogy she had made between this old PCU and Horus, and it frightened her. This place was like the netherworld. She wondered if the Egyptian religious stories could be traced here, if there were Gremn infiltrators who had taught the Egyptians these stories so that they would fear what lay beneath the earth. She was convinced of this possibility, and she began to sense the ageless advance of the Great Plan the Gremn had made. There seemed to be no escaping it. She only wished she knew what the Plan was for, and what the Gremn were after.