Inside the cabinet rested a life-size painted bust of a woman. Her face was smoothly contoured, the cheekbones high, the nose straight and finely chiseled, the chin round and firm. The mouth was straight with a full lower lip. The slender column of the throat was long and graceful. Above a high, smooth forehead rested a cylindrical, flat-topped headpiece, concealing all the hair. But beneath curved brows, the wide, slightly tilted eyes were a brilliant green.
Krysty felt as if she were looking into a mirror rather than inspecting a piece of statuary. Her heartbeat sped up, and her red tresses slid and curled.
Akhnaton fingered the chin of the bust lovingly. “This is an exact copy of a bust found in a workshop in Akhnaton’s royal palace. The original was over three thousand years old. Historians agreed that it is probably the only true likeness of Akhnaton’s queen, Nefertiti.”
Krysty’s tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of her mouth. She drained the last of the dandelion wine as Akhnaton closed the cabinet door and regarded her quietly.
She shook her head. “What do you expect me to say?”
“That you will at least contemplate the possibility that your spirit, your ka and mine were meant to meet again, that we are fated to rule as god and goddess over this blighted planet.”
“I can’t contemplate anything,” she replied sharply. “Not when I’m so concerned about my friends.”
“They mean much to you?”
“Yes. Especially Ryan.”
“The one-eyed man.”
“Yes.”
A hint of a grim smile touched Akhnaton’s lips. “He is a true warrior, that one. The ka of the leopard lives within him. However, Aten has no need of leopards or warriors. There may be no place for him or your friends.”
She fixed an unblinking, emerald gaze on his face. Flatly, determinedly, she stated, “If there is no place for them, there is no place for me.”
Akhnaton returned her gaze for a long, speculative moment, then returned to his chair behind the desk. “My high counselor, Mimses, took responsibility for containing your people. I will speak to him, though he is very angry over the losses you caused him.”
“Losses?”
“The Incarnates.”
Thinking of the sheep-headed man she had back shot in Fort Fubar, Krysty elected to say nothing.
As he had a few minutes before, Akhnaton closed his eyes, and a moment later Nefron came into the study. He said to her, “Fetch Mimses. Bring him here immediately.”
The girl ducked her head and left the room.
“Was that telepathy just now?” Krysty asked.
Akhnaton looked at her uncomprehendingly for a moment. “You mean with Nefron?”
“Yes. You closed your eyes and she—”
“There are certain minds I can touch, minds with which I can establish psychic links. Not very many, because the other mind must possess a certain degree of psionic abilities, as well. Nefron is one. You, obviously, are another.”
Krysty didn’t like the direction of the conversation, but to abruptly change the very subject she had raised would arouse the man’s suspicious. She kept wondering, too, why neither Nefron nor Akhnaton had mentioned their familial connection.
Choosing her words carefully, she said, “And you can’t influence psi-null minds unless they’re unwary or unguarded.”
“Or asleep,” he replied pointedly. And he smiled a very genuine, almost boyish smile.
An overweight black man entered the chamber, head at a deferential posture. A blue robelike cloak draped his body. “You wished to see me, Pharaoh?”
He gave Krysty a quick appraising glance. She found his deeply creased face and small, flesh-bagged eyes repulsive.
Akhnaton asked him several questions about Krysty’s friends.
Reluctantly, he answered, “I interviewed a woman named Mildred. She lied to me about herself and the others.”
“She was afraid,” Krysty interjected.
Mimses ignored her. “I intend to question the others.”
“No need,” Akhnaton said. “Where is this Mildred now?”
“In the hall of women, in isolation.”
“Release her and the rest of the newcomers. Send Iwat to begin their education.”
Mimses scowled and extended a pair of fingers. “Lord Pharaoh, two matters must be addressed. First, one of their group is still at large. An Incarnate was found in Baltic Alley. He had been stabbed to death.”