|The Riddle of the Sphinx: Solved (standard:fantasy, 1594 words)|
|Author: Victor D. Lopez||Added: Jul 02 2013||Views/Reads: 1788/1284||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Historians and Egyptologists have long debated the origins of the sphinx, its purpose, and the incongruity of its enigmatic face. This story provides the answers, along with its single most important secret to be revealed in the very near future.|
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story height. “Keep the camera on the writing,” the Egyptologist commanded and wait to be amazed.” He then turned off the lights by pressing a switch on the line leading to the dual halogen work lights that had brightly illuminated the small room, and the symbols came alive with a red glow from within the carved stone. The symbols themselves were reminiscent of geometric figures and mathematical symbols, but were neither glyphs nor words in an unknown alphabet but a sort of combination of the two that was disorienting to the mind. “We are about to begin. Please wear these dust masks and ear protectors,” Dr. Hawass told the cameraman, giving him a dust mask and two silicone hearing protectors, then placed two of these in his own ears while donning a mask of his own. He then nodded to the workmen and bid them begin as they sported their heavier ear protectors. Even with the hearing protectors, the noise in the stone chamber was loud enough to be painful, with the vibration from the dual jackhammers rattling their teeth as the workmen applied their tools to the center of the door which had no visible means of opening from this side of the chamber and, apparently, had not yielded to prior efforts at pushing, prodding or otherwise forcing it open. Five minutes later as the camera captured the dense swirling dust of the jackhammers' work and its deafening sounds as the ancient stone gave up its last efforts at resistance and a small hole was finally breached in the center of the door. In an instant, the chamber was flooded by a bolt of plasma that filled the chamber and shot up through the well, instantaneously vaporizing the still smiling Egyptologist, the cameraman, and the jack hammer operators and continuing upwards through the circular opening to the surface like a coronal emission radiating outward beyond the orbit of Mars. Blackest shadows followed, flowing outwards like a billion bats exploding from a cave in which dynamite had been detonated, evil personified shrieking outward freed from the restrictive seal placed what would subsequently become a primordial cradle of civilization by long forgotten protectors. The carved letters above the breached portal left by the victors of a galactic war whose final battle was fought on Sol millennia ago, and the remnants of whose vanquished hoards, forced to march through a portal to oblivion hidden below ground of an insignificant, life sustaining planet. The portal was then sealed and a guardian erected to mark the spot—using local materials and a magnificent predator from this planet to serve as a warning to the locals to stay away from this site marked by the gods. With the passage of time and the rise of arrogant, foolish men who feared nothing but oblivion, the glorious lion's head and flowing mane were ordered to be defaced and carved into the likeness of Khufu whose megalomania could not be satisfied by building the largest monument to himself that the world has ever known by way of the Great Pyramid at Giza. The result would become the iconic figure that would spawn mysterious controversies among historians and Egyptologists in the modern era with its too-small head in proportion to the lion's body, the unavoidable result of having to fit a human face and headdress within the features of the original perfectly proportioned lion's head. In time, Khufu's face would itself be defaced by having its nose chiseled away as clearly evidenced by the chisel scars left behind by the ancient defacers of the defacer. Whether the deed was done as some argue as an act of vengeance by another pharaoh, by religious zealots attempting to eradicate a blasphemous idol, or for some other reason, it matters little. With the original warning unheeded, this now lonely symbol stands as a pointless monument to the boundless foolishness of a now dead race which loosed once more upon an unsuspecting galaxy evil that had been conquered at great cost before the ascent of humanity, a race which having learned nearly nothing since climbing down from the trees ignored a blazing warning in a forgotten tongue above a portal it blindly breached. The words originally written there would much later be echoed by Dante, inspired by the residual record of that prehistoric struggle between good and evil and which in the original tongue, as in its later Latin version, could be translated as “Abandon all hope all ye who enter.” (C) June 2013 by Victor D. Lopez (All rights reserved.) This short story will appear in the next edition of my short story collection. The current edition, Book of Dreams 2nd Edition: Science Fiction and Speculative Fiction Short Stories, is available for the Kindle and in paperback. Information about the current collection and an additional free preview are available at http://www.amazon.com/Book-Dreams-2nd-Science-Speculative/dp/1480295914/ ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1372698226&sr=1-3 Tweet
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