The morning sun broke in glorious rays through the round porthole, piercing the sheer 
white veils of the small brass bed.
  
  They sat together against the barred bedstead; warm from their lovemaking; warm from 
the wine they'd drunk.
  
  Now she watched as he filled the tumbler from the vial. Tiny lights danced in the 
strange liquid. He held it out to her.
  
  She took it from him, then looked into his eyes. For one tiny moment she was afraid 
again. And it seemed suddenly she was not in this room. She was on the deck in the mist 
and it was cold. The sea was waiting. Then she shivered, and the warm sun melted over her 
skin, and she saw the touch of fear in his eyes too.
  
  Only human, only a man, she thought. He does not know what will happen any more than I 
do! And she smiled.
  
  She drank the tumbler down.
  
  "The body of a King, I tell you,"  said the merchant, leaning forward in farcical 
confidentiality." I give to you for nothing! Because I like you. I see you are a 
gentleman. You have good taste. This mummy, you can get it out of Egypt, it's nothing. I 
pay the bribe for you..." On and on went the chant of lies, the song of commerce, the 
idiot imitation of truth.
  
  Henry under that gauze! Henry locked in the filthy bandages forever! Henry whom he had 
caressed in that little room in Paris a lifetime ago.
  
  "Come now, sir, don't turn your back upon the mysteries of Egypt, sir, deepest darkest 
Egypt, sir. Land of magic ..."
  
  The voice faded; echoed for a moment as he stumbled a few steps away and towards the 
full light of the sun.
  
  A great burning disk, it hung over the rooftops. It flashed in his eyes as he looked up 
at it.
  
  And never taking his eyes off it, he grasped the cane firmly as he reached into his 
coat and pulled out the flask. Then dropping the cane altogether, he opened the flask and 
drank the contents in great easy gulps to the very last drop.
  
  Petrified as the chills passed through him, he let the flask fell into the dirt. He 
felt the heat in spasms. He felt his numb leg come to life. The great weight in his chest 
slowly melted; and stretching his limbs with the utter abandon of an animal, he stared 
wide-eyed at the glaring sky; at the golden disk.
  
  Before him the world pulsed, shimmered, then became solid again as he had not seen it 
since his middle years when his vision had begun to slowly fail. He saw the grains of 
earth at his feet.
  
  Stepping over the silver walking stick, ignoring the shouts of the merchant behind him 
that he had lost his cane and must wait, he walked out of the bazaar with long easy 
strides.
  
  The sun was high above in the noon sky as he left Cairo, as he walked on along the thin 
road to the east. He did not really know where he was going and it didn't matter. There 
were monuments and wonders and cities enough to behold. His steps were quick, and the 
desert had never seemed so beautiful to him, this great monotonous ocean of sand.
  
  He had done it! And there was no undoing of it now. Eyes fixed on the vast azure 
emptiness above him, he gave a soft cry intended for no one, merely the smallest, most 
spontaneous expression of his joy.
  
  They stood on the deck, the warm sun blanketing them as they embraced one another. She 
could feel the magic moving through her skin and her hair. She felt his lips graze hers, 
and suddenly they were kissing as they had never really kissed before. It was the same 
fire, yes, but now her strength and her urgency came to the fore to meet his.
  
  He lifted her and carried her back into the little bedroom and laid her down on the 
bed. The veiling fell silently around them, snaring the light and wrapping them up in it.
  
  "You are mine, Julie Stratford,"  he whispered." My Queen forever. And I am yours. 
Always yours."
  
  "Lovely words,"  she whispered, smiling at him almost sadly. She wanted always to 
remember this moment; to remember the look in his blue eyes.
  
  Then slowly, yet feverishly, they began to make love.
  
  THE YOUNG doctor grabbed his bag and ran towards the infirmary, the young foot soldier 
running beside him.
  
  "Just dreadful, sir, burned to a crisp, sir, and wedged down there under the crates at 
the very bottom of the freight car. I don't know how she can be alive."
  
  What in God's name was he going to be able to do for her, out here at this godforsaken 
outpost in the jungles of die Sudan?
  
  He steadied himself against the doorjamb as he came to a halt inside the room.
  
  The nurse shook her head as she came towards him. "I don't understand it,"  she said in 
a stage whisper, with a pointed glance at the bed.
  
  "Let me see her."  He pulled back the mosquito netting." Why, this woman's not burned 
at all."
  
  She lay asleep against the white pillow, her black wavy hair stirring in the sunlight, 
as if there actually were a ghost of a breeze coming from somewhere through this 
infernally hot room.