DARKNESS INVADED MY SENSES, seeking a strong hold and finding it. Every once in a while, my mind broke through the cloud. Pain erupted through every neuron, exploding upon every inch of my body and engulfing my mind. And so, I let the darkness deepen its claws, blocking all feeling except that of floating upon a cloud of nothingness, travelling where ever this entity of protection deemed fit.
As my mind allowed the cloud to direct it, I held a corner solid. This corner contained the events that led to my current situation. I was sitting in the driver's seat of my Bentley, singing with the radio as I traversed my way home from another day at the British Museum. I loved my job as Senior Egyptologist; it brought me the closest I could ever be to my passion. Ancient Egypt held a long-standing fascination within me that none could rival, not even my passion for my family.
Beside me in the passenger seat lay my attaché case, my name, Dr Robert Cooper, emblazoned across the dark leather in golden lettering, containing the proposed itinerary for my upcoming trip to once again visit the country I love so dearly. Two years of planning finally found me nearing my departure date, and I found myself getting excited.
And then, the carelessness of some distracted moron behind the wheel of his Ford four-wheel-drive, tearing down the road at well over the speed limit, ended my excitement. One minute, I mouthed the words, "I come from a land down under. Where beer does flow and men chunder. Can't you hear, can't you hear the thunder?" The next, scraping metal. Glass shattering, tires squealing and screams of torturous pain broke the silence. About the time I realized the screams come from my own mouth, sirens sounded nearby, and blessed nothingness took me away.
* * * * *
A GENTLE BREEZE ACROSS my face can nearly be taken for the touch of a wing, and for a moment, I wonder if an angel has come to take me away. Gently, coming down from my cloud into reality; blessed nothingness holds me in its grip. I feel wetness on my face, I smell a musty odour, I put out my hand and feel a smooth material kiss my fingers. Suddenly, a large tongue licks my face. I force some courage into my soul, and open one eye. There before me is a terrifying sight. A massive shaggy lion with a large black mane, and an enormous open mouth is standing over me. Screaming into the night time darkness, only a golden lamp casting shadows around me, that makes it even more terrifying. Then a purring sound starts to come out of the lion's mouth.
* * * * *
I pushed the lion away, and it got off the bed and sat at my feet on the floor. The surroundings were strange. Sumptuous furnishings were everywhere, gold and silver ornaments and lamps.
Busts of strange people were all around the walls, which themselves were covered in strange paintings of people in chariots. I got out of bed and walked around the room. It was vast. My bare feet walked over smooth marble of wondrous colours. It felt cold to the touch. There was no sound but my poor heart beating a thousand to the minute in my ears. The smell of the place was different from home. It had to be a warm climate; it felt balmy, like when travelling with the family to the tropics for holidays. Was I dead and in heaven? But I did not think lions were there? Was I in hell? I did not think I had lived a bad enough life on earth for that. So what then?
I was standing in the room wondering what to do, when the door pushed open and a man ran in and knocked me over. I fell flat on my face onto my nose, and was a little winded as well. My poor nose had blood poring all over me and the man. I tried to rise to my unsteady feet, holding my nose, and feeling even more terrified. I looked at the man and he was crying, tears pouring down his face. He was a middle aged man, with a dark complexion, very richly dressed, and with a large gold necklace around his neck. It looked extremely expensive like it was made out of solid gold.
"Majesty," he cried, "have I hurt you badly?"
I looked around to see who he was talking to. I was always treated with respect at the Museum, but no one ever called me Majesty. No one was in the room but him and me. He took me over to a small table and chairs and sat me down. "We were so worried about you. We thought you would die."
"Where am I?"
"In Thebes, dear Majesty, in your palace."
"My palace?"
"Yes Majesty. Has your accident caused you to lose your memory? You are King Tutankhamun. You suffered a terrible accident three weeks ago falling off your chariot while out hunting. They brought you in more dead than alive. The doctors have been fighting to save you ever since."
I understood his words. I suddenly realised, ancient Egyptian sounded like the Coptic language. My God, I had planned to travel to Egypt, and here I was, in a much earlier time?
