The God of Chaos by Tom Bradby

Author:Tom Bradby [Bradby, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781446421840
Publisher: Transworld
Published: 2005-02-01T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Quinn watched her glide back into the nightclub. He waved a cab over, issued a curt instruction to its driver. He waited. A minute passed, then two. He wondered if she had changed her mind.

She was at his side again, her white dress shimmering in the moonlight. She slipped into the cab and told the driver to take them to the Mena House at Giza.

The taxi rattled through the night, her long body pressed lightly against his. Quinn held his silence and watched the crumbling buildings grow smaller until they petered out altogether.

The driver bumped down a dirt track to the Mena House Hotel, which rose like an oasis from the desert, a tall palm swaying alongside its fortress-like tower. They clambered out, but instead of entering the hotel, Amy walked on up the dusty road towards the Great Pyramid of Cheops. It seemed still more immense in darkness.

Quinn tried to help her onto the first ledge, but she batted away his assistance and hitched her dress almost to her waist to reveal long, slim legs. The local Bedus caught sight of them, charged over, shouting in Arabic – climbing up without a guide was forbidden – but Quinn and Amy ignored them, kept going, and soon their protests faded.

Amy was fit and Quinn struggled to keep up, his breathing ragged. ‘Come on,’ she said, over her shoulder. ‘What are you waiting for?’

It was a long climb and they had to swing themselves bodily over each stone. They halted once or twice, but neither spoke.

And then they were at the top, standing on a large square stone platform, the apex of the Pyramid itself long since removed to be used in other buildings. They strolled to the edge, looked down at the patchwork of lights that stretched into the distance. ‘My God,’ she said. ‘It feels like the top of the world.’

‘You been here before?’

‘Never. And you?’

‘Only once.’

Quinn walked to the middle, looked out over the head of the Sphinx to the vast nothingness of the desert beyond. The top of the Pyramid was like a dance floor, about twelve feet square. Amy was beside him.

He did not move.

Her eyes were locked on his, the skin on her neck smooth as silk in the moonlight. A temperate breeze tugged at the strands of her hair. She went to the edge of the square and sat, facing the patchwork of lights. ‘It would be a perfect place to watch a bombing run,’ she said. ‘Do you think they come straight overhead?’

‘Cairo’s never been bombed.’

‘But it’s only a matter of time now, isn’t it? Why aren’t you enforcing the blackout?’

‘The pilots follow the course of the Nile so it wouldn’t make much difference.’

‘What were they dropping tonight? Confetti?’

Quinn went to the edge, sat beside her. ‘Propaganda. Counterfeit Egyptian pound notes with a message on the back – these will be worthless in a few days’ time.’

Amy stared into the darkness. She tapped her heels against the stone. ‘How long do you think it took them to build it?’

‘This Pyramid took twenty thousand men thirty years.

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