Unwrapped

The dark, echoing stairway opened into a long basement hallway. The hallway was lined with shipping crates, boxes of books and papers, and boxes of cryptically categorized artifacts. The smell of dust and age clung to everything.

Sarah took a deep breath and smiled. She had always loved that smell; it reminded her of everything good and interesting about her work. She smiled at that thought, too. Work, if you call it that because she was paid for it, was used only to keep creditors at bay. This work was her love, her life, her passion.

Sarah flipped the light switch for the hallway and made her way down the hall to her office. After all those years of unbelievably cramped grad-student offices, her private office was decadent and spacious. Not that most outside observers would call it spacious, certainly not after Sarah had piled every available surface with books and papers. There was a tiny well-window near the top of the far wall which, if you stood near it and looked up at just the right angle, you could see the sky above the parking lot, beyond the History building next door. Below the window on this wall were shelves lined with books and small artifact boxes. The other walls were similarly occupied. The desk in the center of the room held Sarah's object of interest du jour and related notes and books.

Pushed out to the corners of the desk were the lamp, the telephone and an ancient laptop computer. Sarah despised computers. Oh sure, they were occasionally useful and the Web was a marvelous resource, if you could find anything. And, for communicating with colleagues around the world, there was nothing better. But, she found libraries faster for finding information and preferred talking face-to-face whenever possible. At least once, everyone who interacted with Sarah wished that she like email a little bit more than she did. While cataloging and studying ancient Egyptian artifacts was Sarah's life, most of her colleagues had a life beyond work and they ranged in reaction from annoyance to anger at being kept late because she and they were "so close" to finishing.

Sarah knew people around her had less of a drive to find the answers, and it annoyed her slightly, but she figured that, while they were out eating dinner with friends, she would be that much closer to a breakthrough that would get her published while her colleagues read about her successes in the journals. Sarah even got down on herself sometimes for not being aggressive enough with her research. She had rarely met anyone more driven than herself, until she met Dr. Karen Vandas.

Sarah chuckled at the thought, sat down at her desk, and began looking through her notes to remember where she was. Karen, though she was Dr. Vandas then, was Sarah's hero all through grad school: driven, brilliant, lucky, and beautiful. Remembering the envy she felt when she first met Dr. Vandas helped recoil Sarah's mind back to the task at hand. Today, she was transcribing the strange, probably heiratic, markings on a small totem found alongside a well-preserved female mummy from a site near the Valley of the Kings. The site, the mummy, and the totem were are fascinating finds in and of themselves, but Karen was convinced that they were somehow related to legends of long life and gods walking amongst the people in human form. These were interesting legends, but Sarah thought Karen might be a little obssessive about the whole thing. Why was she always trying to tie things to this one legend? The ancient world abounded with fantastic stories and legends, what made her think this one was any more provable?

The totem itself was kind of dull. It was about five inches long in roughly the shape of a female body, but had strange rings near what would be the head and foot of the body. The rings were wide enough to permit writing. The rings held text in one of the earliest recognizable Egyptian scripts. The body of the totem bore the strange heiratic script that held Karen's interest. Sarah finished transcribing both writings and began searching for Karen's notes and the journal that Karen kept while at the dig. It would help the translation of the classic figures to put the crypt, the mummy, and the totem in context.

Wednesday, September 15, 2004
Chamber 2A
This chamber appears to have been the purpose behind the entire crypt. Indeed, the sarcophagus was found in this chamber. However, as noted by its designation, this chamber is offset from the main chambers as was normally done for queens and lesser dignitaries in the Great Pyramids. There does not appear to be any "main" chamber, nor does chamber 2 show signs of vandalism or removal of any large items. Indeed the very pristine nature of this tomb makes it unusual. Even with superstition and fear of curses being the strong deterrent it was in ancient times, so many tombs were disturbed or raided regardless. What could have been so frightening about this tomb that left it untouched? Or, did this tomb really remain covered over for thousands of years under the desert until this summer?

Below this entry were more of the heiratic markings that appeared on the main body of the totem. Karen said she had seen these markings on another artifact in the Cairo museum, but Sarah had not yet been able to get pictures of the piece from the museum for comparison.

So, the totem was from a tomb that was either very ancient or very cursed, or both. The totem was probably a protective ward, then, meant to keep the mummy from harm. Sarah read on.

... Lacking from this tomb are the standard after-death stories and prayers for the deceased. That is not unheard of in a tomb of this age, but even the earliest mummies were entombed with clay models of servants, food, water, and amulets for guidance in the land of the dead. This tomb has none of these. The canopic jars are present and we will probably find their contents to be standard. Note to Wilkins: MRI all jars along with carbon dating.

Sarah wrote out Karen's off-the-cuff translation of the classic glyphs from further on in the journal:
Guide me, great one, that I may one day return to you.
Crossing the river between life and death.
May I find peace in the world of the dead.

Almost the same glyphs were repeated on the rings at the foot of the totem. There were some slight differences, but Karen must not have thought they were important or noticed them at the time. Sarah begin searching her books and papers for the glyphs in context. Some of them were not usual forms of the classic figures, but looked very much like earlier versions.

Time passed quickly in those books and before long, Sarah getting light headed and realized that she was starving. It was after two thirty already and she had a class to teach at three. Sarah leaned back in her chair, her back popping and neck stiff. Her long amber braid threatened to brush the floor with the depth of her stretch. Rubbing her eyes, Sarah got her notes for the class and enough change to get Ding Dongs and Dr. Pepper from the vending machines on the third floor.

She smiled at the totem on her desk. "What a little mystery you are!" Then she sobered and sighed, remembering that today was Thursday and that her Thursday class was "Introduction to Ancient Egypt" covering the Old Kingdom and First Intermediate periods. While this was her personal favorite time, especially the times before the first dynasty and the advent of the entire civilization, this class was her least favorite to teach. It was probably more tolerable before that ridiculous movie came out proposing that the great pyramids were landing platforms for alien space ships. Not one semester went by when some idiot refused to take "no, they were not" as an answer. She tried to cheer herself by thinking that before that movie, it was probably questions about whether mummies could really come back to life and haunt people or some other silly movie's plot device or villain that made the students seem especially dense and gullible. Sarah sighed, strengthened by the knowledge that two hours from now, she could be back down here pouring over her books once more. She might even run by the library before coming back to get Dr. Lance's book on early runes.

"That concludes our readings on Djoser and the Step Pyramid at Saqqara. There will be a quiz next Tuesday and don't forget that your papers on the art and wealth of the second dynasty are due two weeks from today. And please don't just summarize what you've read; I've read it, too, and if I'm bored with your paper, you get a lower grade. You should apply some analysis to the topic and try to put it context. Oh, and those of you who have Dr. Vandas' 8:30 AM class on Monday, first, my condolences, and second, she asked me to remind you that she has to miss that class next week and the week after but that you can attend any of the other lectures, as your schedule permits. See you Tuesday."

Sarah brushed the chalk dust from her fingers by wiping them on her jeans. Thankfully, no one had any questions today, but she waited until the last of the class left, just to be sure. Her mind was already back on the glyphs. Something about the differences between the head and foot rings was nagging at her brain, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Roger appeared at the classroom door, stylish as ever, in a bookish kind of way. He wore dark slacks and a lighter checked shirt so often that some joked it was his unspoken uniform. Sarah had no room to talk on the point of fashion, so she never commented on his wardrobe. He was fair skinned with hair that was light brown in winter and bright blonde in summer. Perfect looks for the ladies man that he was. His reputation as such had, at first, slightly offended Sarah, not because he hit on her, but because he hadn't. Truth be told, Roger had hit on Sarah, but she had so completely missed it that it amused Roger and he had thought of her as a younger sister from then on.

"Sarah! I see chalk is back in fashion."

Sarah glared at Roger good-naturedly and smiled. "What's up? I was just going over to the library to get Dr. Lance's book on early runes."

Sarah's light brown hair was naturally a little bit curly, but she almost always pulled it back into a tight ponytail. Her glasses were small and round, almost Beatle-esque. And her standard uniform was jeans and a t-shirt, with a sweater if it was cold. Roger had always thought Sarah could be fantastically pretty if she just tried. She had wonderful green eyes and naturally dark lashes.

"Oooh, you wild woman! Is that for Dr. Vandas' little trinket?" Roger asked as he came in and sat on the edge of the desk. Sarah picked up her notes and checked her pockets to make sure she wasn't walking off with any sticks of chalk.

"What? Oh, yes, it is." They walked out into the hall towards the building's front doors. "You know, that whole tomb is just absolutely fascinating. What a find! I am so lucky to be working on it. The heiratic script on the body of the statue may be an early form of the pre-classic glyphs."

The afternoon was clear and crisp; fallen leaves crunched and swished pleasantly underfoot. But, Sarah took little notice. "You know, I was also reading about an ancient form of the older Chinese script that women used as a kind of secret code, even weaving it into belts and such. I suppose it's possible that something like that was going on here."

Roger's area of expertise was the New Kingdom and Coptic texts. Other than general language help or research tips, Roger's knowledge was almost entirely useless to Sarah. Which was just as well, to Roger's way of thinking, because he never got pulled into the "almost there" sessions so many others did. But, it was still fun to hear someone so passionate talk about their work.

"Was there any clue that this was a common woman?" Roger asked.

"No, not at all. She was, if not a queen, a very important person to have such an elaborate tomb, well, elaborate for the time. We're pretty sure this tomb is from the second dynasty. Actually, my pet theory is that it's from much earlier, but was set so far from Memphis either to hide it or because the woman was exiled."

Roger frowned. "It's hard to build a tomb, get mummified, and buried properly if the woman was exiled. Unless she was exiled with a large entourage, which would be unusual. My money is on concealment. We've seen lots of tricks for that; maybe this was just the best trick to date."

It was Sarah's turn to frown. Having someone fairly far removed from her immediate concerns but still knowledgeable about the ancient Egyptian culture was both useful and frustrating. Roger saw things in a way that Sarah just couldn't. Sometimes, it was easy to say that he just didn't understand the complexity of the situation, but other times, he just saw right through all the layers of complexity that over-thinking had applied to the problem. This conversation seemed to be heavy on the latter.

"Also," said Roger, "would a noble woman really have a need for a secret text? I imagine the women of your secret Chinese script were using it to communicate amongst themselves. So, unless there were lots of noble women who had a reason to hide their communications, why have a secret text."

"I never said this was a woman-only text, just that secret texts not far removed in form from their source have been used before."

Roger grinned at Sarah haughty tone. "You're right, I'm sorry. Secret text, multi-gender secret text, would certainly fit with your exile theory. I know! Maybe, she was part of some elaborate conspiracy to depose the kings of the first dynasty in league with rebel camel traders from the west!"

"Now you're just making fun of me," said Sarah with a smile.

"By the way," said Roger, "do you have a name for the mummy yet? I mean other than VK-26-2004-blah-blah. I quite liked Set; he was a really cool mummy."

"I've been calling her Isis, but Dr. Vandas doesn't like that we nickname them after gods. I think she thinks it makes them too important."

Roger made a strangled sound and said, "oh come on! They're the most intact 'survivors' of an entire culture! How can we not think they're important?"

Sarah laughed. "You don't have to convince me. Eventually, we will start running out of god names, though."

"Oh, don't worry about that. If enough mummies pass through this university that we run out of god names, well, I can think of worse fates, can't you?" Roger smiled. While he did think they were really interesting and a wealth of information, mummies actually kind of creeped him out. But, he'd never say anything, and he knew that Sarah thought they were almost as good as a lifetime supply of Ding Dongs.

Sarah sighed happily at the thought of having dozens of mummies to study at once. "Yes, I think that would be alright."

They arrived at the library and Roger continued on to the administration building to take care of some paperwork for the department's staff meeting in two weeks. Sarah got several books on ancient runes and the standard lecture by the librarians to please return some of the overdue books she already had checked out.

After several more hours and lots of Dr. Pepper later, Sarah had translated the first few glyphs as "Give me power", not "Guide me" as Karen's initial translation suggested. It was really more of a "give me your favor" feel, but the "power" aspect was very clear. They were very close, though, so Sarah took her second-, third-, and quadruple-guessing herself to be a sign that she should put it away for the night.

The next day, Sarah travelled down the same dark stairwell, the same crowded hallway, into the same cluttered office. While she probably wouldn't admit it to anyone, the sameness of academic work made her feel very comfortable. She was free to make as much panic and hurry and changes to eating and sleeping schedules, but everyday, she came back to the same place and carried on with long searches with never ending depth.

By lunch time, Sarah had translated the first head ring as "Give me the power, that I may return to life." It wouldn't be the first time that Sarah's translation had not matched with Karen's, especially since Karen's initial translation had been done in the field with no reference materials. But, it still made Sarah nervous. She deeply respected Karen and telling her that her translation was flawed was never and easy task. Still, Karen had asked her to look into the writings on the totem, and that included the classic glyphs on the rings.

Sarah was turning her attention to the first of the foot rings when Roger appeared in her office doorway. "Ready for lunch?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm starving." Sarah put down the totem and picked up her jacket. "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know. How about that new Indian place on 7th?"

Sarah nodded and locked her office door. "That works for me. How's your 624 class coming along? Are they ready to say 'screw this New Kingdom stuff, I'm going back to the good old days' yet?"

Roger chuckled. "Nah, most of them are more interested in the surrounding cultures, Israel, Arabia, Ethiopia, even Turkey, and are only taking the class to see how Egypt effected the history they care about. I think there's only one fellow who's actually interested in the time period, and he seems to know quite a lot already. Timothy, I think his name is. Other than him, they're quite content to move as quickly as possible towards modern times."

"Mmm," Sarah grunted. "Sounds like fun."

Roger laughed. "Yeah, right! About as much fun as you can have while trying to cram history down unwilling throats. How about your totem? Having any luck with the heiratic?"

"I haven't started on that yet, actually. You know the rings about the head and foot of the totem?" Roger nodded. "Karen's notes from the dig made no mention of the fact that the glyphs are different on the head rings than they are on the foot rings."

"So? You said they were very close, didn't you?"

"Yes, they are, I guess... well, I expected Karen to have a better eye for those kinds of details." Sarah looked guilty about her own arrogance.

"Everyone misses things, Sarah, it's not unheard of, even for someone as skilled as Karen. Do the rings say anything interesting?"

Sarah sighed. "Sadly, no, they seem to be the standard funerary prayers for guidance and a good life in the afterlife. I was hoping they would shed light on the heiratic markings on the body. But, that was probably too much to hope for."

They arrived at the restaurant and got the buffet. Sitting down with her food and mango lassi, Sarah tried not to think about the totem. Sometimes, answers were easier to come by when she thought about something completely different for a while.

"Have you heard from Wilkins or Donovan lately?" Sarah asked when Roger returned with his plate. "I heard it was up in the air whether they'd be returning from their latest dig this semester."

After finishing his samosa, Roger said, "I heard that Wilkins was scheduled to come back soon, like within the next two weeks, but that Donovan was staying on. The grapevine says that Wilkins got some kind of illness or something that he hasn't been able to shake and he wants to get it looked into here in the States."

Sarah shook her head. "Hmm, that's not good. He's usually such an iron stomach. Oh well. Do they know who'll be taking his place?"

"I think Lake and Bauer are next on the list for field trips." It was Roger's turn to shake his head. "I've seen where this new site is, not far from the first where your totem was found, and it looks like the most remote, boring, desolate place you could find within Egypt's borders. Even for a desert it looks boring. It's no wonder the tombs have lain buried for so long."

Sarah grinned evilly and said, "well, that and the curse! Muahaha!" Stifling a giggle, she continued, "ah hem, there is no mention of a curse, actually, anywhere in or around the first tomb."

"Yeah, probably been buried in that boring part of the desert for so long that people forgot there was anything there to curse."

"That could also be true." Sarah got her second plate from the buffet. "Oh, I am jealous though. What a wonderful experience to see such untouched tombs."

Roger nodded. He did not enjoy field work very much. "Oh, bringing things a bit closer to home, did you hear that the janitor from the museum was killed yesterday?"

"No, why would I have? In fact, how did you hear that?"

Roger looked through Sarah to something only he could see and said, "Linda told me." Linda was the secretary for the fossil section of the museum and was Roger's latest fling.

"Riiight, lovely Liiiinda told you." Sarah smiled. "And I'm sure you were appropriately saddened by this news."

Roger brightened. "Oh yes, I offered her my shoulder to cry upon and said lots of mindless, supportive things. I may even have shed a tear of my own, to show how understanding I was." Roger was a confirmed bachelor, but he loved to play the field. There was a joke amongst the faculty that the number of women on campus he hadn't dated was smaller than the number he had.

"Well, that's just far too depressing a topic for lunch time."

"Oh right, and mummified remains and curses are not."

"Exactly, those are business topics." Sarah grinned. "Speaking of business, I'm meeting with Karen on Monday to go over whatever translations and progress I have so I can't make lunch."

"That's alright, I forgot to tell you that I made a date with Linda for Monday's lunch."

"Well, better late than never, I guess."

They paid the bill and headed back to campus. Sarah spent the afternoon and most of the evening translating the first foot ring. As she suspected, it was different from the head ring. It read, "Give me the power, to turn death to life." This was a bit unusual for funerary texts. She picked up Karen's journal to flip through it, looking for any other clues for context Karen might have written down, when two sheets of paper fell loose from the back of the journal. She picked them up from the floor and unfolded them. They appeared to be pages from someone else's journal as the pages were numbered but the handwriting was not Karen's.

"That's strange," Sarah muttered to herself. She began to read the first page. The handwriting was very uneven, as if the author was writing in a car... or was very frightened.

"We found... something... today, an amulet near the carcophagus. It glowed of its power. It was the only thing misplaced in the entire tomb, which is what caught our attention. The top of the amulet where Maat should be was some kind of dark red crystal. It was smooth and oblong, with spikes of black through it. It fit into the top of the amulet like this:" There was a drawing at this point on the page. The top of the amulet looked just like a socket for the crystal to fit into. The bottom had the standard scarab beetle from so many amulets.

"We were placing it on diagrams of the tomb before we picked it up, when Karen came in from outside. She... well, she ran over and snatched the amulet up and put it in her pocket. She demanded to know which of us had moved it. We said that we first saw it misplaced and were just getting ready to place it on the diagram. She told us to forget that we had seen it. She said that her reputation would put her above suspicion if it turned up in any inventories and... and that we would be the ones to take the fall. I... We... decided it was best not to say anything."

Sarah frowned. If they were so concerned about the incident not getting out, why write it down? It was clear now that either Wilkins or Donovan had written this text and that someone had removed the page from their journal. But, then, why keep it around? Why not just burn the pages? Sarah was willing to believe that Wilkins or Donovan and written down the episode to relieve some of their fear, that writing it down would take some of the emotional edge off. It was stupid, but understandable. It seemed entirely unlikely that Karen would steal the pages just to keep them in her own journal, the one more likely to be read and passed around.

In fact, the whole thing seemed entirely unlikely. An amulet that glowed under its own power? Karen, a trained and highly respected archeologist, grabbing up an artifact without getting its exact location and orientation first? No matter how interesting, or valuable, an artifact might be, it wouldn't have put Karen in that much of a tizzy. And as far as valuable went, artifacts of solid gold and those with large gems like that described passed through Karen's hands on a weekly basis and nothing had ever gone missing before. Why that one?

No, the more she thought about the pages, the more Sarah was convinced that Wilkins or Donovan had made a mistake. It seemed much more likely that Karen was deriding them for some other mistake and that the amulet they saw was the one that was found and cataloged with the mummy itself. The looked almost identical, so it would be an easy mistake to make. Sarah shook her head, almost sympathetically for someone who could get so flustered by Karen's strong personality. Certainly they were not the first and would not be the last.

"Sarah! Good, good. How's that translation coming along?" Karen didn't rise from her desk when Sarah entered the office. The windows were large and overlooked the university's central quad. Bookshelves lined the walls, but they were neatly organized and obviously dusted frequently. Karen's desk looked like it saw good use and had a tidy array of books and papers that she was currently looking at.

Sarah sat down in one of the plush office chairs and presented the page with her transcriptions of the classic glyphs and their translation. "I have started looking for references for the heiratic on the body of the piece, but so far there are no similarities with much of anything."

Karen took the page of translations in her hands and read it quickly. She frowned and re-read the page much more slowly. Her heart was racing and glee flowed through her, but she was practiced at keeping her emotions secret and her face showed nothing but academic concern. "Are you absolutely sure about this translation?"

Sarah flinched slightly at the doubt in Karen's voice. She was used to arguing points of translation and subtleties of language, but she rarely had to defend an entire translation. She swallowed and reminded herself that it was an innocent question and not an attack.

"Yes," said Sarah, "I have the highest confidence in the accuracy of the translation."

Karen looked up from the page and smiled in a disarming way. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to sound so accusing." Sarah visibly relaxed. "It's just that the content of these lines is quite different from traditional funerary rites from all other parts of Egypt."

"Yes, I know," said Sarah. "The glyphs are in the earliest known form of Egyptian heiroglyphs, but the content almost sounds Aztec or Hittite. Actually the content sounds completely bizarre, but closer to the life-from-death attitudes of those cultures."

Karen nodded and gestured at the page. "I just love this line: 'Conquering both sides of life and death'. That's a very clever, and very subtle, change in the glyphs themselves to go from 'crossing' to 'conquering'." Karen smiled what she hoped was an enthusiastic, but not maniacal, smile. She felt like a kid at Christmas. She was so close, after all these years, to discovering the purpose behind these bizarre references to living dead. What began as curiosity at her first dig at the tender age of 27 lead her on a global search to discover the meaning and the legends of the undead in so many cultures. "That's very good work, Sarah, thank you."

Sarah fairly glowed with pride, which was almost extinguished with Karen's next question. Karen asked, "when can you have the body translated?"

"Well, the body is a bit more complicated," started Sarah. Sensing Karen's disgust-laden exasperation beginning to build, she spoke quickly to head it off at the pass. "It's a totally new script, and we're not even sure if it's read horizontally or vertically. It could take years to translate it and we may never translate it."

The full translation of the rings were at the head:
Give me the power, that I may return to life.
Crossing the divide between life and death.
May I find peace amongst the dead.

And at the foot:
Give me the power, to turn death to life.
Conquering both sides of life and death.
May I find power as the living dead.

If Karen's hunch about the function of this totem was correct, it may not be necessary to translate the heiratic on the body to access its power. But, without knowing what the body said, it was both impossible to know what it's true purpose was, and almost certainly, how to pronounce it. Frustration almost as hot as her excitement was sweet rose within her. She simply must unlock the mystery of this totem if she was going to understand all she had discovered to date and harness that power.

Karen allowed icy consideration to show on her features as she sat back in her chair and steepled her fingers in front of her. She gazed at the ceiling, swinging her chair side to side slightly. The totem spoke of giving power to turn death to life. She knew from her previous finds that the undead, zombies you might say, were involved, and most likely controlled by the red-jeweled amulet she found. The totem seemed to be the means by which the dead became undead, especially after Sarah's translation. Karen smiled inwardly. It was too bad that she would have to kill Sarah once she had finished translating the totem and Karen had the power she sought.

She frowned slightly. If the red-jeweled amulet was indeed a means of control, perhaps its presence was required for proper translation. That seemed incredibly unlikely, but the amulet was serving no purpose at the moment. But, Karen had seen to it that the amulet was never cataloged. How could she now produce it without arousing suspicion. Even if Sarah wasn't suspicious (Karen was sure she didn't have a suspicious bone in her body), Sarah talked a lot for someone who spent so much time with books, papers, and artifacts. If she gave the amulet to Sarah, she would be likely to tell someone in passing and they might become suspicious. No, she had to get the amulet and the totem in the same place at the same time without telling Sarah about it.

Karen leaned over her desk again and her face brightened. "I'll tell you what, I have a strong suspicion that if you will find some guidance on the carcaphagus itself. I'll give you access to the lab where the mummy is being stored. Take the totem with you and try looking at the glyphs there."

Sarah furrowed her brows. "Certainly there might be hints on the carcaphagus as to the nature of the glyphs, but why would having the totem at the carcaphagus make a difference?"

Karen spread her hands wide. "As I say, I don't know that it will, but I just have a hunch. If it doesn't work out, well, nothing lost, really." Excellent, Sarah seemed to be buying it. She could hide the amulet somewhere on the mummy which would get it into proximity of the totem without it being discovered.

It was unusual for Karen to be so accepting of failure, even in her own guesses. But, in this instance, given that Karen seemed extremely anxious to have a translation in a month that would normally take a lifetime, it didn't seem like a bad idea. "Alright, I'll give that a try."

Below Karen Vandas' office window, a young man waited. He tried to look like a bored student, waiting for a classmate, but it wasn't easy. Nothing in Walter's life had been easy, but by comparison, standing inconspicuously outside a university building should have been easy. Walter was a Vindex Anima, or a defender of life, or as he called it, a zombie hunter. The last description was not entirely fair since he really hunted all of the undead, not just zombies, but "zombie hunter" flowed off the tongue more easily than "undead hunter" and certainly more easily than "Vindex Anima".

Walter had a deep respect for and devotion to his calling, but he did think they took themselves a little to seriously at times. Come on, how can you be all doom and gloom and "we're saving the world" when you're sitting in a sidewalk cafe drinking a cappuccino on a sunny afternoon. He had been warned that his flippant attitude would one day blow his cover or get him killed, but Walter thought that appreciating life was also part of his job. Plus it kept him sane. A lot of VAs had killed themselves when they finally realized the seriousness and, some would say, hopelessness of their work.

After hunting zombies for over four years, Walter knew how serious the situation was. He also knew that even secret societies had their political games, and that he could never be happy doing anything else. Saving the world might be cliche, but Walter had always kind of wanted to be a superhero, even if no one ever knew how he had saved them.

But, those years had not taught him how to look relaxed when he wanted to run up the stairs and strangle that woman on the spot. Not that strangulation was the means he usually employed to kill people, but, in her case, he would make an exception. He toyed with the idea of lighting a cigarette, but he knew that would only serve to make him more jittery.

As he contemplated his shoes and nerves, it moved. Dr. Sarah Kline had left about an hour ago, without the amulet. Walter had really been hoping Dr. Vandas would give it to her. He was sure he could get it from Dr. Kline without having to hurt her, but Dr. Vandas was another matter. Karen understood the importance of the amulet and would kill to protect it. So, Walter wandered in the opposite direction of the amulet. His "Palm Pilot" showed it moving around within the office as Dr. Vandas got it out of her safe and put it in her pocket. Then, it walked out of the office and started down the stairs.

By now, Walter was nearing the far end of the quad, angled to take the long way to the History building by way of the library. Classes were in session at the moment, so there weren't many people around. Walter made sure to look like he was just a student walking, not trailing anyone. He stopped to tie his already tied shoe and take a deep breath. Stooping down over his shoe, he closed his eyes and reminded himself of his mission.

Getting the amulet was not enough, so he had to remember to go slowly. He couldn't kill Dr. Vandas until he was certain he had all of her notes and artifacts. When he was given this assignment, someone joked that, in that case, he should just destroy every library and museum between here and Egypt. She had published a lot of papers and recovered a lot of artifacts over the years, and even though she kept the most interesting ones to herself, there was still danger in those she let the rest of the world see. Like the small totem and the mummy itself.

Walter continued on his way, finally reaching the History building while Dr. Vandas was still inside. He stopped inside the men's room to examine his Palm Pilot. The amulet was moving in small circles downward, down the stairs to the basement lab where the mummy was. It moved around slightly in the room and then settled into place and stopped moving. After five minutes the amulet still hadn't moved. Walter waited another ten before emerging from the restroom and heading right back outside and back towards the library. If the amulet was with the mummy, it was relatively safe for the time being. This time, Walter did light up a cigarette.

After Tuesday's hell-class, Sarah was ready for to explode. Not only had she made absolutely no progress on the totem, but someone finally brought up spaceships landing on pyramids and the rest of the class was a disaster. She had often thought about writing a paper explaining why that just science fiction, but it denouncing it would probably just lend credibility to those who claimed it was being covered up. Conspiracy theories and shadowy organizations had always seemed so ridiculous to Sarah. To borrow a phrase from a book on Egypt she had read as a child, you could prove anything if you were allowed to make up the necessary evidence.

Roger knew that harried look. "That good, huh?" Sarah threw up her hands in frustration. "Students! Spaceships! Indecipherable heiratic! You know, there are enough mysteries and fascinating stories- fascinating factual stories- in ancient egyptian history, that you would think they could find something worth spending an hour arguing over. But, no! They watch TV and think they know it all."

"Now, now, I seem to recall a young post-doc who thought she knew it all, too," Roger scolded.

"And this- this- chicken scratch masquerading as decipherable text!"

"Did they have chickens in the Old Kingdom?" Roger collected Sarah's notes and pressed them into her arms.

"What?" asked Sarah, finally realizing that she'd been ranting.

"Chickens," said Roger, smiling.

"What chickens?"

Roger chuckled. "Never mind. Do you want an outside observer to look over what you've got, or would that make you uncomfortable?" They walked out into the hall and made their way towards Sarah's office.

Sarah sighed. "At this point, I'll take advice from talking dogs."

"Oh, come now, it's only been two days. You can't expect to have anything in that short a time span. One could spend years looking at that text and not understand it. It's not like you to be this anxious. Uptight and driven, yes, but not anxious. Is anything wrong?"

Sarah shook her head. "Karen wants this done as soon as possible. Actually, she wants it done faster than that."

"All the desire in the world won't translate that text."

"I know." Sarah sighed again, then brightened. "Oh, how did lunch with lovely Linda go?"

"Ah, it was fairy tale, good food, excellent ambiance... Sadly, she has heard of my somewhat storied reputation and was not quick to accept my dinner invitation."

"I'm sure she'll come around."

Roger winked. "They always do."

Walter sat near the middle of his cover class, "Egyptian New Kingdom and Foreign Influences". The back of the class was too conspicuous. Walter found it mildly interesting to hear what the mainstream world thought were important events from that time period. Given the importance of that time period on his profession, Walter already knew most of what was going on.

It was the New Kingdom when the magic of the Old and Middle Kingdoms was taken underground. There were not yet enough skilled in the magic to convert the region, let alone the world. Indeed, thoughts of using magic for domination, while not new, took on surprising intensity when it became clandestine. Walter theorized that the more rational people who were skilled with magic saw enough potential in uniting with the rest of the world that they abandoned magic. Therefore it was only the truly sociopathic and power hungry amongst them that kept with it.

Walter was not in this class by chance. He knew that Dr. Roger Simms was a good friend of Dr. Sarah Kline and he wanted to keep as close a tabs on Dr. Kline as possible while she was doing work for Dr. Vandas. In fact, Dr. Kline would probably be surprised to know that he had been watching her for the better part of seven months. It wasn't bad, really. Most of the people Walter watched were like Dr. Vandas: power hungry egomaniacs who hadn't the slightest clue what they were meddling with. Sarah, while being an incurable workaholic, was down to earth. More than that, she was happy where she was. Most of the people Walter knew were striving so hard for something they could almost certainly never attain that they forgot to appreciate what they had.

Walter had only ever known one other person who was happy where she was. The thought of her drove needles through his heart. They were once broadswords, then daggers, but now were reduced to needles. Some part of him hoped he would never lose all of that pain because then he would be just as dead as those he hunted, maybe even more so. She had been his wife, a lovely italian girl, with long, curly dark hair, on the plump side with a largish nose, but she glowed with life. It was palpable when she entered the room and no one could help but smile at her.

They had been married for just under two years when she died. Her death was traumatic, but natural enough. She was hit head-on by a driver swerving to avoid a deer. Nothing after her death was natural at all. She was taken to the hospital, then the morgue. Then, her body disappeared.

Angry and shocked, Walter started stalking the morgue, watching everyone go in and out. The night he first saw a zombie was seared into his mind. He could almost smell the wet pavement, even here, as he had sat in his small hatchback car, waiting. Waiting for what he was never quite sure, but then the back door opened. Expecting another doctor or cop or janitor, Walter bolted straight up in his seat when he saw three figures in long robes with hoods leading a stunned looking... corpse... out to a waiting van. It wasn't like zombies in the movies, arms out straight, drooling, mumbling "brains". It looked like a cold, waxy, imitation person with absolutely no brain at all. Not that it looked stupid or witless, but it looked completely pliable, mentally, at least. Almost like someone hypnotized, but open to suggestion on a much more fundamental level.

As his mind was trying to process this, warm hands reached around him from the back seat and held him in place. He screamed into the hand over his mouth. Suddenly so unconcerned with the fact that a zombie had just walked out of the morgue twenty yards from his car, Walter began thrashing against the warm grasp, clawing at the hands that held him. Then he felt a sharp pinch at his neck and the world went black.

He woke to find himself on a hard couch, in a room with lots of books and heavy dark furniture. A short brunette interrupted her conversation with a heavy-set, balding man to approach him. She offered him a glass of water and a gentle smile. "I'll bet you have a lot of questions," she said. That was the beginning of Walter's life with the Vindex Anima. He had never regretted joining in their fight, but a part of him, at times a rather large part of him, wished he had lived out his life in ignorance.

After class, Roger headed over to the museum to "bump into" Linda. He was headed into the front office when he saw Linda down the hall, talking conspiratorially with another woman. Roger's first thought was that he had dated and broken up with this other woman and she was warning him away, but she didn't look at all familiar. In fact, she didn't look like his type at all, short, plump, and, well, frumpy. Linda looked up when the short woman looked his way. She smiled and almost batted her eyelashes when she saw him. Good, not being warned away, thought Roger.

Linda took a step towards Roger and drew him into the small huddle. "Oh, Roger, did you hear what they're saying about poor Mr. Jones?" Roger had to think quickly. Mr. Jones, Mr. Jones... that wasn't her high school history teacher, not her basketball coach, not her boss. Roger almost had to resort to generic concern, but then he remembered.

"Mr. Jones, the janitor?" asked Roger in a hushed voice. "No, what are they saying?"

Linda looked around the deserted halls to make sure there were no eavesdroppers. "The police are saying that it looks like he was involved some kind of cult."

Roger was slightly disappointed. He had been hoping for something involving chickens, or tin foil hats, or that he was really a Nazi war criminal in hiding. "No!" Roger said with feigned shock. "Not Mr. Jones. He was so-" 'boring' filled in Roger's mind, but out came: "normal. Why do they think that?"

"Well, apparently they found some candles and a goat skull in his apartment." The plump woman nodded soberly. Roger wondered where a guy finds a goat skull in the middle of a city.

"Really," said Roger, shaking his head.

"That's not all," said Linda, biting her exquisite lip and looking around again. "I heard the director telling the detective that one of the displays near where his body was found had been broken into. I guess it was very subtle, which is why no one noticed until now."

"Well now," said Roger, straightening, "that is something."

Linda shook her head, looking at the floor. "Poor Mr. Jones. He was always so nice and friendly." The plump lady tut-tutted and gave Linda a little squeeze.

"There, there, dear. No sense crying over spilt milk. And no sense talking ill of the dead. We all knew he was a nice man and I'm sure this is all a big misunderstanding. Oh, I've got to go tell Christine on the third floor; I'll bet she hasn't heard yet."

The plump lady walked off at what passed for a brisk pace at her stature. "So much for not talking ill of the dead," said Roger under his breath. "Linda, dear, don't worry about it. As she said, I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding. I've got something that will take your mind off it."

Linda brightened and looked up at Roger. "You have?" she asked. "What's that?"

"Two tickets to the KISS concert tomorrow night."

Linda fairly squealed with joy. "Oh! They're my favorite! Just like in junior high!" Roger smiled and accepted an excited hug from Linda. Simple, but effective, thought Roger as Linda waved goodbye and went back to her office. Simple, thought Roger further, but, oh so attractive.

It was near noon outside in the bright, featureless desert, but you'd never know it where Dr. Donovan was. This dig was less than ten miles from the original tomb where Isis was found. Dr. Donovan shared Sarah's preference for named mummies over numbered ones. The original tomb was very well concealed in the desert, being almost entirely underground. Only the entrance way had been built above the surrounding ground, and only then by two feet or so. The entrance had been like a trap-door in the desert floor. This tomb had a similar entrance, but much larger in area. Almost as if it needed to accommodate a larger being entrance, like a camel, or was built for many people to use at once.

Dr. Donovan made a note to himself to look for any signs of pilgrimage or organized worship. Before Dr. Wilkins had gone home, they speculated on possible uses for this area. They couldn't accurately call it a tomb, since they had found no carcaphagus, and calling it a temple would fix in their minds preconceptions about Old Kingdom temples that this structure simply didn't fit. Most unusually, it was built underground. That wasn't unusual for a tomb, but for any kind of meeting place or place of worship, it was unheard of in this culture.

The drivers, guides, and the like were just outside the entrance talking and playing dice games on the hood of the jeep. Dr. Donovan stood just inside from the trap door in the ceiling and tried to imagine what would go on here. From the trap door, the floor stepped slowly down and out in a widening, and deepening, right angle. At the deepest point along the widening walls, there were two large pillars, with a strange shape. It was obvious that the shape would be recognized by someone who already knew what it was, but otherwise it was completely indecipherable. Beyond the pillars, the floor stepped up steeply to an alter with a third pillar behind it. The third pillar was shaped as Anubis, the god of the dead.

Dr. Donovan walked slowly down the steps directly towards the center of the alter, thinking. It was clear that this place was related to the tomb they found; the architecture and the emphasis on death were the same. But, where the tomb was obviously a tomb, this place was obviously meant as a gathering place. It was too open and, well, simply laid out, to be a tomb. But, a gathering place for whom? And for what purpose? As far as Dr. Donovan and Dr. Wilkins had been able to make out, there had never been a city near here. It was always possible that it was waiting to be discovered, but there were no natural resources or features that made this a good place for a settlement. Which is why finding a tomb, and more surprisingly, this place such an amazing find.

As Dr. Donovan continued his walking and contemplation, he was too absorbed to hear the drivers and guides outside stop their game and become suddenly quiet. Could this have been a temple for the rites of the mummy they found not far from here? It seemed strange to build such a place just for a single person, no matter how important they were. Even kings, who were also believed to be gods, received their rites in existing temples.

The creatures silently dropped down through the trap door and started toward Dr. Donovan. No, this place was a gathering place for some purpose that could not be served by normal temples. But what? Dr. Donovan reached the alter and looked down on it. It was solid stone and the top was smooth. It might have been the resting place for the carcaphagus.

Nothing in Dr. Donovan's training or knowledge could have helped him derive the meaning of this place simply by thinking logically about it. Because its true purpose defied logic in the same way that the animated dead finally closed on his position. Finally sensing a change in the sound properties of the room, Dr. Donovan turned suddenly back to face the main part of the chamber. For a moment, he couldn't breathe as the shock of seeing it filled with waxy-skinned, dead-eyed monsters hit his brain. A second later, he let out a gurgling scream as the closest monsters jumped on him and slit his throat.

It was another beautiful day on campus, with clear blue skies and a chill, crisp wind. Sarah was on her way to the library, this time with books to return in her arms. Searching through known scripts for glyphs close to those on the totem was frustrating and time consuming. At this point, she was searching through writing samples from cultures so far removed from the Old Kingdom that, even if they bore fruit, she would have a very hard time convincing anyone that the translation was accurate. And supposedly, this would be the easy part. Actually making sense of the text once she knew the letters or sounds would be exponentially harder. Taking the totem to the carcaphagus was starting to sound like a reasonable approach.

Roger caught up with Sarah as she reached the library door. "There you are. I had a thought about your glyphs." Roger opened the door for Sarah and let her drop them off before continuing. "It occurred to me that the glyphs might be a secret code. Kind of like your secret women's form of Chinese, but for a cult of some kind."

Sarah and Roger climbed the stairs to the third floor. "A cult?" asked Sarah. "That's a little vague. One could consider almost anything a cult, and if its secret, there's not likely to be much published on the subject."

Roger nodded, but continued, "true, but maybe psychologists have seen ways in which people modify characters, words, and language, both to conceal things and just because they're crazy."

There were times when Roger's insight could be very valuable, but this didn't seem like one of them. "So, you're suggesting that Isis, or whoever made the totem, was crazy?"

Roger made a face at Sarah. "I'm suggesting that perhaps human psychology has found patterns to the ways in which glyphs from a known language are modified when one deliberately tries to make up a secret language. It is almost certainly based on the structure of their native language, or of a natural language they know, the glyphs can be entirely made up, but they probably have the same granularity of their native language, like letter, syllable, morpheme, etc. And, unlike natural languages, it may be very regular, or, it may not be pronounceable at all."

Sarah stopped at the top of the stairs. Those were all very good points. She wasn't aware of any research like that, but she was not a psychologist. Nor was she a linguist even though she spent much of her time translating ancient texts. Roger watched her think, her eyes involuntarily darting back and forth as her mind mentally searched the possibilities this presented. Roger smiled as her brow furrowed and her mouth quirked; he knew that intrigued and excited look when he saw it.

Sarah finally shook off her train of thought and smiled at Roger. "That's an interesting idea," she said.

"Yes," said Roger, brushing imaginary lint off his sleeve, "I thought so." Obviously proud of himself, he turned to leave. "Oh, how does chinese sound for lunch on Friday?"

"That's fine with me," said Sarah. "Oh, yeah, and, um, have fun at the concert tonight... lady killer." Sarah smiled at Roger, but was already mentally racing down the new path Roger had presented.

He waited until it was dark and he was sure that most of the faculty had gone home before he went in. Dr. Wilkins was not usually a sly man, but he was also not usually this afraid. He wasn't sick, that was just an excuse to come home. He had been on creepy digs before, where the guides just wouldn't shut up about curses and the horrible things that happened to the last archeologists they had brought to the site. If they were so afraid, thought Dr. Wilkins, why did they volunteer to take other to the site. And his usual answer was, for the money, of course. But this hadn't been a creepy dig, at least, not particularly in that way.

Dealing with the remains of dead humans was always a little unnerving, but the people Dr. Wilkins dealt with had been dead for almost 4500 years so it was easier to see them as human-looking artifacts, not dead humans. And, even the most hardened field archeologist got the heebie-jeebies once in a while. It was hard not to remember that one scary horror movie that took place in a tomb or think just for a second that a curse was real.

But no, this dig had been creepy in an old-fashioned way of a different sort: greed, corruption, and threats. Dr. Wilkins and Dr. Donovan had talked at length about the incident, especially after Dr. Vandas returned to the States. They agreed that they would keep quiet about it, after all, what choice did they have? But they had seen a side of Dr. Vandas that no one else had ever mentioned. And, one doesn't become as well known as Dr. Vandas without making a few enemies, so, if she had been as unprofessional and aggressive as she had been that night, it probably would have come out.

In his heart of hearts, Dr. Albert Wilkins just wished this whole mess would go away and he could get on with the tedious, methodical, detail-obssessed work that was his chosen profession. He was a field archeologist at heart and a staunch academician without a political or devious bone in his body. But, he suddenly felt that the secret games of others were a threat to him, in a very real and personal sense. Because of that, he had decided to do something very out of character for him: pick up and leave. He was well known enough to make a quiet career for himself at a smaller university that probably wouldn't ask many hard questions. This sudden change in Karen's behavior was just too stressful.

So, that's why Dr. Wilkins was outside, waiting for all of his collegues to go home for the night. Now that he was fairly sure they were all gone, he entered by the side door and took the stairs up to his office. The hallway was deserted, so he hurried into his office and shut the door behind him. He turned on the desk lamp. Nothing in the office looked disturbed, which he was happy, but surprised, to see. There was too much to take with him, but there were some notes and books that he simply could not replace, which is why he risked coming back here at all. He produced a small, heavy-duty duffel bag from inside his coat and set it on his desk chair. He began gathering notes and books into piles on his desk, moving as quickly and quietly as possible.

From her darkened office, Dr. Vandas watched Dr. Wilkins waiting in the shadows until he was satisfied that the building was deserted. She heard him come down the hall and unlock his office door. Once he was inside, she watched him via the tiny camera she had placed above his office door. Karen had cursed herself hundreds of times since the episode in the tomb. She could have and should have let them catalogue the amulet and then "cleaned" the logs herself. But, she was so close to finally discovering the meaning and purpose of it all, that she panicked when she saw it. Especially since the amulet had yet to prove worth it, Karen was impatient with her constant excuses to herself.

She watched Dr. Wilkins moving around, gathering books and papers into piles. She considered the implications of him leaving, especially suddenly, without word to anyone. People might assume that his feigned illness was serious and that he had to convalesce somewhere before returning. Or, they might assume that the dig he was on somehow scared him enough to leave. That seemed incredibly implausible to Karen, but people believed some pretty strange things. They might assume that he won the lottery, or that he was seriously depressed and killed himself, or that he was in some kind of horrible accident.

And, yes, there was more than a possibility that someone would assume that he had a falling out with her. Karen could handle all of the possibilities except the last one; it was absolutely crucial that there were no rumors or any other reason to suspect that she was... what? Doing something unethical? Bullying her collegues? Selectively releasing artifacts to prove her theories about the dynasties of the Old Kingdom? She was still enough of a professional to be insulted at the last of these. She withheld artifacts for nothing so petty as proving her theories correct. She mentally scoffed at the idea. She didn't need to manipulate the facts to prove her publicized theories correct.

No, Karen was afraid that someone might discover the truth about the ancient rites of the dead: they were more than hopes for life after death, they were really meant to provide life after death. She wasn't sure of the mechanics yet, but she was sure that it had something to do with bringing the dead back to life. More than that, it spoke of great power to those so re-animated, and that she was not willing to share with anyone. No, this great discovery of life and death would be hers alone, both the power and the fame. Imagining the world's reaction to her discovery was heady. She was sure that some people would renounce it as trickery or blasphemy, but others would be fascinated, as she was, by the powers at work that could cause such a thing to happen. Still others would beg- and pay- to have their loved ones returned to them. Oh yes, this was going to be one hell of a discovery, and nothing could threaten it until she was ready to reveal it to the world.

And that was why Dr. Wilkins must not be allowed to leave the university. He must undergo "treatment" for his illness, but then, she needed him back in Egypt to maintain the illusion of normalcy. Karen switched off the monitor for the camera in Dr. Wilkins' office and silently made her way to his door. He was still making noise moving around, so she took a few steps back, coughed, loudly walked up to his office door, and knocked.

Dr. Wilkins' heart seized up in his chest when he heard the footsteps. The knock at the door made his stomach drop to his feet and he swallowed the large dry lump in his throat. He croaked out, "yes?"

"Dr. Wilkins?" asked Karen from the hall. "Is that you? May I come in?"

Now suddenly, his heart was racing out of control and the lump in his throat moved down into his stomach. He had put most of his things in the bag, so he set it on the floor, out of view of the door. He swallowed again. "Yes, come in."

Karen opened the door naturally with a curious look on her face. "Albert! I thought you were sick? Are you feeling better?" She entered the office, leaving the door open behind her. No sense in making him feel more trapped that necessary.

"Ah, sort of," Dr. Wilkins said. "They're not sure what my condition is, so they want me to stay in the hospital for a few days while they observe me and run some tests." Dr. Wilkins was proud of himself for getting all of that out without a stammer or significant pause. The story he had prepared earlier for just this kind of situation, but he never expected to use it on Karen.

Karen looked concerned. "Oh, dear. That doesn't sound good." She paused, to see if he tried to explain himself further. He didn't and she mentally congratulated him on the naturalness of his story and its telling. "So, you've come to get some light reading for your stay?"

Dr. Wilkins was slightly taken aback by her casual demeanor given their last encounter. "Y-Yes, I had some reading I wanted to do, letters to write, that sort of thing." Karen nodded.

"Good, good." Karen eyed the open door. "Do you mind if we sit and talk for a minute?"

Dr. Wilkins' stomach lurched again and the acid was beginning to burn at his esophagus. "Certainly," he said. Karen shut the door and she sat in the guest chair while Dr. Wilkins sat behind his desk. Karen tried to look nervous and uncomfortable. The nervousness was only mostly faked.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier this month at the dig." Dr. Wilkins almost fell out of his chair. Karen continued, "it was wrong of me to threaten you and Dr. Donovan. I guess my emotions just got the better of me. The amulet that I removed... well... it's part of some research that I haven't told anyone about."

Albert's head was spinning. He had come here to escape the tension and threats of the frightening woman he now knew Karen could be. She was offering an apology for it and was going to explain herself. Maybe he and Carl were blowing it out of proportion. "Research?" asked Dr. Wilkins dazedly.

"Yes," said Karen. "You see, the truth is, I'm obsessed with the occult and items that were considered 'magical'." That much was true. "I'm just completely fascinated by the idea that an item itself could contain magic and be independent of the possessor. Most cultures consider magic to be a force, but one that is controlled by skilled people or gods. Objects in these cases usually direct or amplify the control of the user, but some are considered to have magical properties on their own... almost as if they have a will of their own. It's those items that interest me. You know, of course, of the crystal skulls found around the world made by various cultures?" Dr. Wilkins nodded. "A very few of those were rumored to have a will of their own and be capable of causing things to happen without a human to intervene. Oh, there are so many stories like this! I just... well, it's not a very well-respected field of inquiry, frankly. Magic in archeology is usually categorized with faith and beliefs among the aspects of a given culture, but no one ever thinks it is or was real."

By the end of this exposition, Albert had had a chance to calm down. This sounded like the Karen Vandas he knew and respected. And, given her excellent reputation, he could see why she wouldn't want to sully it with this kind of investigation. Magic was a very fringe area of historical inquiry. It would be like an astrophysicist admitting that they read the horoscope every day and that maybe the movement of planets wasn't entirely guided by physics. It was fine to hold those beliefs privately, but it would be professional ruin. He was emboldened by these thoughts.

"And, the amulet?" he prompted.

Karen sighed. "Yes, the amulet was one such artifact. I had been searching for it for years and was totally unprepared to find it lying in the open in the tomb. I... well, as I said... I let my emotions get the better of me." She looked up at Dr. Wilkins with a slight pleading in her features. "Will you forgive me? I promise it won't happen again."

Dr. Wilkins smiled. He felt much more calm and let the warm sensation flow over him. Women could be a little overemotional at times. Dr. Wilkins didn't have a problem with women in the sciences like his father had, even in positions of higher stature than his own. He never argued that Karen didn't deserve to be where she was or that she wasn't a brilliant scientist, but, she was still a woman, and that made her different in a way Dr. Wilkins really couldn't grasp. He just assumed that this was one of those ways.

"Of course I forgive you, Karen," said Albert. "Don't give it another thought."

Karen looked relieved, then tensed and asked, "and, uh, you won't tell anyone about the amulet and my, uh, extracurricular research, will you?"

Dr. Wilkins actually managed to chuckle. He was beginning to feel like a fool himself for overreacting, so it was easy to forgive someone else their foibles. "Of course not. I understand how sensitive the issue is."

Karen let go a breath it seemed she'd been holding for hours. Thank the gods he bought it. She nodded and stood to leave, smoothing out the wrinkles in her slacks. "Well, I'm glad that over with." Dr. Wilkins stood to show her to the door.

"I do hope your illness turns out to be something minor, Albert. Let me know if there's anything I can do around here while you're away. I know how work piles up if you don't keep on top of it."

"Thank you," said Dr. Wilkins. "I'll let you know how things come out." He was ready for about a week's vacation, but three days "in the hospital" would be enough.

They said their goodbyes and Albert shut the door. He leaned against it and let out a sigh mixed with a small laugh. "I'm glad that's over with, too," he said to himself.

Roger was sitting in his office grading papers. He really did enjoy the teaching aspects of his job, unlike many of his collegues. It was frustrating to get a class of people who were not interested in the topic, but in this semester's class like that, at least he was learning a bit about the cultures his students had chosen to study. Roger could not commit to one woman in his personal life, but his career was definitely committed to teaching. Research was a nice bonus of holding a faculty position, but he would never enjoy searching for clues in books the way Sarah did. Roger wondered idly how her translation was going and worried that Karen was pushing too hard this time. He hadn't seen Sarah this stressed out before.

Roger didn't interact individually with Karen very often. The times he had, he knew that they would never have a comfortable working relationship. They were polite enough, but their priorities were vastly different. Karen was interested in furthering the field through direct action and publishing papers, while Roger felt that, while that was important, the people in the field took priority. So, he did what little research interested him, and made his mark by teaching others with vigor and devotion. Karen seemed to have a much more self-serving attitude towards science.

Sarah appeared in Roger's open doorway and knocked to get his attention. When Roger looked up, Sarah looked pale and was using the door frame to support herself. Roger frowned and got up to walk towards her. "Sarah? What's wrong?"

Sarah continued looking at the floor and shook her head. "I... H-have you heard... about Carl?"

Roger guided her to his guest chair and squatted down in front of her to catch her eyes. All the stress from Karen, and now this... whatever 'this' was. "No, what happened?"

"He was killed." Sarah looked up into Roger's eyes. "Oh, Roger, he didn't just die, he was killed-" She caught a sob that was trying to escape and pushed it down. "He was killed by someone at the dig. They killed the guides, and the drivers, and the camels, every living thing at the site... just... why?"

Roger took her into a hug and let her sob silently on his shoulder. This didn't make any sense. The dig was sanctioned and supported by the Egyptian government, so the likelihood of extremists seemed unlikely. They didn't have a lot of money or supplies on hand, especially at that dig site, where there were no artifacts to take. Dr. Carl Donovan didn't have any enemies that anyone knew of, especially not of the kind that would kill in cold blood. Sarah's question of why was a good one and not just in the sense of "why him".

Sarah recovered enough to look up. "I, uh, think they're going to make the announcement university-wide in a few hours. They wanted to let his friends and family know first. This is... why him? Why now?"

"Why the camels?" asked Roger softly. Sarah gave a sad laugh.

"I didn't think of that," she said. "The whole thing is so inexplicable that I didn't wonder about the camels."

"Does Karen know? Does Dr. Wilkins know?"

Sarah nodded. "Karen told me. The police informed the family first, then Karen, as his boss. She told Dr. Wilkins herself."

"Poor Dr. Wilkins," said Roger. "To come home ill and then to have the site he just left attacked like that... he must feel like becoming ill was pretty good luck about now. What are the police saying about who did it, anything?"

"No," said Sarah. "I think their first priority was to tell the family, but I'm betting on grave robbers who thought there would be more to steal." She shook her head again. "All I can think of is the last time I saw Carl alive, looking at me over his reading glasses in the library. We were both looking for the same book." Her face darkened. "And now he's gone... forever. I guess I should have let him have the book."

Roger laughed and then stifled it. "Sarah, come on, let's get some fresh air. We can walk down and get some coffee, decaf for you. The walk will do you good." Sarah let Roger lead her out of the office and to the coffee shop.

For the first time, and probably the last, Karen and Walter had something in common: they were livid when they heard that Dr. Donovan had been killed. Karen believed that it was grave robbers and that it was just incredibly bad luck and timing. She was upset about losing one of her best field archeologists and a friend as well as whatever discoveries Dr. Donovan had made but not yet recorded. Being so upset about his death made hiding her relief much easier. Dr. Donovan had been a friend, that was true, but he was also the only other witness to the red jeweled amulet incident with Dr. Wilkins. And, he was just smart enough that he might have discovered the purpose of the temple before Karen could get to him.

Karen knew the temple was used as a gathering place for those who used the life-after-death magic that she herself wanted to gain control of. They probably brought the dead there to revive them and paid tribute to whatever forces had given them the power. Karen was a bit concerned over the death of the camels. Most grave robbers would have stolen the camels and sold them, not killed them. While she believed that she was the first to discover the meaning and purpose of the temple, there were wackos of all stripes in every culture. If they believed that an ancient temple was being desecrated, they might take it upon themselves to do the work of their god. Especially if their god was Anubis or Osiris.

It was troubling to think that there were people like that still roaming free in Egypt, because she might have to go there again, and not just to continue the dig. It might be the case that the temple was not just a meeting place for reanimation, but was instrumental in the reanimation process. If it wasn't safe there, she would have to take more people and support than she really wanted to. The more people who saw any failed attempts at reanimation, the greater the risk that something would get out. This was all damned inconvenient, and the interruption it caused in her search is really what pissed Karen off most of all.

Walter was also livid when he heard about Dr. Donovan's death. He broke protocol and visited the Vindex Anima outpost in town to demand answers. The house was about a hundred years old in a quiet city neighborhood. A slight woman in a t-shirt and jeans answered the door and let Walter in without a word. Once the front door was shut, she led him downstairs to a secret door in the basement. Beyond the door was a quiet room filled with computers, telephones, and newsfeeds. The woman let him in and closed the door behind him, leaving him alone with the heavy-set balding man behind the computers and the hawk-nosed woman standing beside him.

Once Walter was sure the door was shut behind him, he asked with barely contained rage, "what in the hell is going on? How could you let Carl Donovan get killed, especially now?"

The hawk-nosed woman narrowed her eyes at Walter. "It's not as if we planned to get him killed, Walter. These things just happen."

Walter stalked over to where she was standing. "As I understand it, it's your job to make sure things like this don't 'just happen'." Walter had never felt like striking someone as much as he did at that moment. "What were they doing there, Erin?"

The woman looked down her nose imperiously at Walter, and the heavy-set man quipped up from his chair, "killing Dr. Donovan, it would appear." Both Erin and Walter scowled at him.

"We believe," said Erin, "that they were protecting the temple from intruders."

"Yes," said Walter, "but the Mindless don't usually take it upon themselves to do that kind of thing, or anything at all, for that matter. Who ordered it?" Walter was calming down, but annoyed that the people he trusted with his life couldn't have seen something of this magnitude coming. How could they spend their days watching the Undead and not notice dozens of them converging on an uninteresting spot in the desert where one of the normals was working, he wondered.

"We're still not sure," conceded Erin. "Most likely, the Mind guiding the others was local, at least to the region, if not the country. But, we're almost certain that he was acting on behalf of another. Who that other is, we don't know."

Walter fumed. It seemed obvious to him that the Minds were working together more lately, especially where Karen Vandas was concerned. If it was that obvious to him, he certainly hoped that others in the VA had noticed it as well and were taking steps to stop it. An organized Undead was much more of a threat than two dozen Minds operating independently. Surely, everyone in the VA knew that.

More than just the threat of Undead organization, this dramatically moved up the timetable for dealing with Karen Vandas. Walter knew that when the time came to kill her, he would have to act very, very quickly to get everything else cleaned up before anyone noticed she was dead. The first time Walter had been given an assignment to kill a normal, he was horrified. He agreed to join the Vindex Anima to kill the undead, not to kill regular living people. It was only after observing his first target for a while that he realized that all of the evil present in an undead Mind was already present in the target. The only difference at that point was that his target wasn't yet undead. After that, he had no qualms about killing normals who lusted after the power of the undead. Karen Vandas would be the third living person he killed, and she held just as much evil in her heart as the first.

"Alright," said Walter. "I need time to get things in place for Dr. Vandas. Three days at most, then I'll continue on as planned from Decision Point B."

Erin nodded. "I think it goes without saying that coming here has put us all in danger," said Erin, with quiet anger. "Don't do it again."

"Then do your job so I don't have to." With that, Walter turned and stalked out the door.

Two days after news of Dr. Donovan's death, Sarah was spending her late evenings with the totem again. She was still harried and distracted by the news, but Karen wasn't giving an inch on the due date for the translation. Roger agreed that that was completely unfair, but was again thankful that he didn't work for Karen. At Sarah's request, and because things didn't go well with Linda after the concert, Roger took the papers he was grading to Sarah's office after dinner. He sat in her guest chair with his feet up on the corner of her desk reading his students' essays. Sarah flipped through a dozen books and papers trying to keep them in sync with her train of thought, which kept getting derailed.

"Listen to this one," said Roger. "'The kings of the New Kingdom, beginning with Amenhotep III, failed to embrace the belief in magic of earlier dynasties. This was a mistake and contributed to their eventual downfall.' Where do they come up with this stuff? Is this the kind of analytical thinking they're teaching in other departments?"

Sarah grunted. "Maybe he just meant they failed to incorporate the 'god' part of 'god-king' into their rule, so people lost faith."

"Maybe," said Roger, "but that's really reaching. I would have thought that 'explain the mistakes made by New Kingdom kings that eventually led to their conquest by the Romans' would be an easy assignment." Roger sighed. "Ah, well. How's it going for you?"

"Slowly," said Sarah. "Or rather, not at all. I am no further along than I was a week and a half ago. I'm almost to the point where I'm willing to try Karen's crazy idea."

Roger made a mark on the page he was grading and asked without looking up, "what idea was that?"

Sarah stopped and folded her hands in front of her on the desk. Unable to keep the incredulity from her voice she said, "she wanted me to take the totem to the carcaphagus and try working on the translation there."

Roger looked up. "That's weird. Why would proximity to the carcaphagus matter?"

"That's what I asked and she said it was just a hunch." Sarah shrugged and sat back in her chair. She looked over her books and notes and the totem. "At this point, I'm not sure I care why," she said and dropped her pen onto the desk.

"Right, then," said Roger, setting his papers down. "Hand me some books and let's go."

Walter had spent two days making sure that no trace of Dr. Vandas' research into the undead remained. All that remained were the notes that Karen kept in her safe and the artifacts from this latest dig, especially the red-jeweled amulet. The mummy he could leave, but the amulet and the totem had to disappear. As did Karen Vandas herself. He could have gone for the amulet and totem earlier, but arousing Karen's suspicion would have made his job exponentially harder. It was better for her to believe that she was alone in her knowledge of the undead.

Smoking, and trying to calm down, Walter walked from the library towards the History Annex building that housed the archeology and egyptology departments. Just two things to collect, one from a secured room, and then it was off to kill Dr. Vandas and loot her safe. Damn this is messed up was Walter's overriding thought. To go from being a phone company clerk to saving the world was an interesting career move, he thought.

Sarah had been into the lab where Isis was on almost a daily basis. She didn't believe that it would help with the translations, but mummies still held awe and wonder for Sarah. She opened the door and switched on the lights. Isis was in the carcaphagus, just as Sarah had last seen them. In all the times that Sarah had been in to see Isis, she never suspected that a red-jeweled amulet lay just beneath the bandages near the mummy's stomach.

The carcaphagus had been opened when it was found in Egypt, so it was left open in the basement lab to make study easier. And, thought Roger, so that no one broke the ornate cover trying to get a better look at the mummy itself. They approached the table on which the carcaphagus laid. The whole room smelled of decaying cloth from the mummy and wood from the shipping crate.

"She is magnificent," said Roger, getting a closer look. He set Sarah's books down on the table and leaned over the mummy. "Very well preserved," he said. "Are you sure she's Old Kingdom?"

"Yes," said Sarah, "the carbon tests were conclusive." She set her armful of books on the table as well. "Okay," she said, "here goes nothing."

Sarah pulled the totem out of her pocket and held it near the carcaphagus, and, as it happened, near the amulet. At first, nothing happened. Sarah tried waving the totem, turning it over in her hands a few times. Roger was about to declare defeat when a soft, red light appeared under the bandages of the mummy. He grabbed Sarah's upper arm in a tight grip that made her yelp. She followed his gaze and her eyes widened in disbelief. She and Roger just stared at the light for a moment, shock holding them in place. This is bad movie stuff, not reality, thought Roger. This kind of thing just doesn't happen.

"What the hell is that about?" whispered Roger.

"I don't know," said Sarah. Her heart raced and kept pace with her mind. It was true, she thought, the incident with Dr. Wilkins and Dr. Vandas and Karen and the red-jeweled amulet that glowed under its own power. What did that mean? It meant that Karen was not the person Sarah thought she was. The amazement of the sudden red light was nothing compared to Sarah's sudden feeling of betrayal. How could she do it, she thought, and why?

Sarah looked down at the totem in her hand and yelped a second time, almost dropping the totem onto the table. She said, shakily, "Roger."

Roger turned to look at the totem and his racing heart now felt like it might escape his chest. What the hell was going on? The heiratic markings on the body of the totem were moving and shifting as if they were alive. It was all Roger could do to not back away in horror from the madness he saw in front of him. This was not normal, none of this was right. It was all Sarah could do to not blurt out all the questions racing through her brain. This was incredible. What did it all mean?

The movement of the lines on the totem finally slowed and solidified. To Sarah's amazement, they were formed into recognizable glyphs: the birds and figures of ancient egyptian. Glee welled up inside her. Not only was she going to finish the translation, but maybe the markings had been a previously unrecorded type of egyptian heiratic. "Oooo, this is too exciting for words," said Sarah.

"That's not exactly how I would have put it," said Roger. "Sarah, let's go now." He began to back away from the mummy. "Let's go and get Karen and a video camera and come back later."

"No!" said Sarah. "This is too important to leave now. What if it won't happen next time?"

"I can only hope," said Roger. "Look, Sarah, this is not normal. It's not right on so many levels. I really think we should go."

Sarah looked away from the totem at Roger, suddenly serious. "Roger, Karen lied about the dig where they found Isis."

Taken aback by this apparent non sequitar, Roger shook his head as if to will it to clear. "What are you talking about?"

Sarah looked back at the mummy's stomach and nodded towards it. "That light," she said, "I think I know where it's coming from."

"Yeah," said Roger, "the mummy's stomach. Now, let's go."

Sarah spoke in a monotone. It was easier to hide her anger at believing Karen over Carl and Albert that way. "It's coming from an amulet with a red jewel in it, almost identical to the one originally found on the body. It glows under its own power. Karen took it from the site before it could be cataloged and threatened Carl and Albert to never say anything about it."

Some of Roger's fear ebbed away, replaced with confusion. "How can you know that?" he asked.

"I found two pages from Albert's journal stuffed into the back of Karen's journal." Sarah softened her voice. "At the time, I thought that Albert had made a mistake."

"Apparently not," said Roger. The idea of unethical behavior, by Karen of all people, came as shock to Roger as it had to Sarah. She was held up as a model of good technique and ethics in their field. As much as Roger didn't like Karen personally, she was still a collegue. Not only did he feel slightly betrayed, but she would sully the reputation of the entire school if this got out. But all of that aside, there was still the matter of the glowing amulet and moving text on the totem. "Maybe we should only go get a video camera, then."

Sarah had begun turning the totem over in her hands, trying to find the starting point of the text. Learning that Karen had lied to her strengthened Sarah's resolve to translate the text and answer the question of its purpose. Sarah would not be used a tool or puppet. "No," said Sarah firmly. "I think I want to know now what this is for."

Before Roger could argue, Sarah began reading the text on the totem aloud in egyptian. Roger knew enough that it would be easier to read in egyptian than to stumble over the translation. Sarah read on and the glow from the amulet grew stronger. Roger thought his eyes betrayed him. He thought he saw the flesh of the mummy begin to move under the bandages. He was too intent on Isis to see that Sarah's skin had begun to dry and shrivel.

Walter was walking down the stairwell when he paused because he thought he heard voices. He did hear voices. He heard them pause and then they weren't speaking english. Even though he didn't understand the words, Walter knew what was happening. "Oh shit!" cursed Walter as he leaped down the stairs. "No, no, no, no, shit, no!"

Sarah reached the end of the text and her first thought was, "my, that was strange." Then, she tried to look up at Isis and she couldn't move her head. Where her heart should be racing in her chest, she felt only emptiness. When she tried to scream, she felt her voice and throat fall away to reedy, hard strings. When she tried to look around, she felt fire where her eyes should be. She tried to thrash and run against this terrible force that was pulling at her. This must be death, she thought. When she tried to fight against it, she felt her whole body go light and stringy. Then, she could fight no longer.

When Sarah stopped reading, Roger was still staring at Isis. He was certain that the skin had changed. It was almost as if it were puffing out slightly and regaining its elasticity. Finally, he looked up at Sarah to ask if she saw this change, too, and a cry caught in his throat. He stumbled backwards, horrified at the changes he saw. "Sarah!" he croaked. "Are you alright?"

Sarah's skin had hardened and turned a sickly pale grey color. She wasn't moving or speaking. "Sarah! Answer me! What's wrong?" Concern for Sarah overrode his fear and he moved towards her. As he got closer, he realized that she wasn't breathing. Then, without warning, Sarah collapsed. The totem spun across the table as she fell to the floor.

"Oh my God, Sarah!" Roger bent to the floor to check her pulse. Finding none, Roger cursed over and over as if it were a mantra against fear. He picked up Sarah's body and carried out into the hall. He remembered seeing defibrilation kits in the department office with the first aid kit. He carried Sarah's body up to the office, straining for breath and called 911. They told him to start CPR and wait for help. "Sarah, don't you die on me! I need you, Sarah, don't do this!"

Walter reached the door to the lab just in time to hear Dr. Simms panic over Sarah's death. He hid in the shadows and hung his head in shame. If only he had been a little faster... Slowly banging his head against the wall, Walter waited until Dr. Simms got Dr. Kline's body upstairs. Then, he went through the open door into the lab.

The amulet had almost lost its glow now. Walter picked up the totem from the table and put it in his bag. He approached the mummy and retrieved the amulet from the bandages. Knowing that the living soul of Dr. Sarah Kline now inhabited the mummy under his fingers didn't change the facts. The mummy- Sarah- was now the undead and it was his job to kill her. Walter put the amulet around his neck and under his shirt. Then, he got got out the smokeless fire gel that was used in the standard disposal of the undead. After they were beheaded, of course.

Walter walked with his knife to the mummy's head. As he leaned over the carcaphagus, Sarah suddenly regained consciousness.

The blackness vanished and Sarah gasped in a hollow reflex. She felt light and extremely confused. She opened her eyes, which still felt like tiny balls of fire and was amazed that she could see. What she saw was a strange man leaning over her with a knife in his hand. "Stop!" she tried to yell, but all that came out was a reedy whisper.

Walter jumped in surprise. He should have cut off her head right then, while she was helpless, but he didn't. He hated the undead, and he had killed before, but those people deserved to die because they were also evil, or already dead except in body. The night his wife's body walked out of the morgue was the night Walter learned of the existence of the undead. It would take seven months before Walter saw her again and when he did, he understood what she had become: a Mindless walking dead, merely a drone that followed the instructions of others. His wife's body was undead, but everything that made her her had died the night of the car crash. Knowing that made it easier for Walter to behead and torch the abomination his wife's body had become.

But this was different. Sarah had become a Mind: a living soul inside a dead body. She had all the powers of the undead, like incredible regenerative abilities, with the same knowledge, conscious, and will as when she was alive. Destroying this undead body would be tantamount to killing Sarah Kline. Walter had come to know Sarah over the semester and he believed that she did not deserve to die. This creature, what Sarah had become was an abomination, but inside that creature was an innocent soul.

Walter stopped his hands, but didn't move them away and asked the most important question, "did you want this?" Sarah's mind reeled at what she was feeling and seeing. The question seemed ridiculous. Having just felt death and still grappling with where she was, her mind clearly knew an answer to that question.

"No!" Sarah said with as much force as she could muster. "No, I don't want this... whatever 'this' is." She could feel panic starting to rise again. What was happening? Why couldn't she move and why did her body feel so strange? And why was she lying in the carcaphagus? "What's happening to me?"

Walter moved his hands back and put the knife away. Sarah may be panicking because she didn't understand, but Walter understood too well. Cursing under his breath, Walter put the fire gel away and hoisted Sarah- Isis- out of the carcaphagus. This would complicate matters, but a Mind that was not mad with a lust for power was too valuable to destroy.

The thin woman at the VA outpost was not happy to see Walter again so soon. The grey-skinned woman in Walter's arms was not enough to persuade her that this was important. They were lucky it was a cloudy night. "Downstairs. Now."

As Walter walked into the secret room in the basement, Erin said, without looking up, "what in the hell do you think you're doing here again?"

"Saving the world," said Walter. Erin looked up from the computer screen and gasped. The heavy-set man was not present, probably sleeping, as it was now close to one in the morning. Erin stood slowly and came around to where Walter was lying Sarah on the floor, never taking her eyes off the body. As the process of reanimation continued, Sarah continued to get heavier.

"My God," whispered Erin. "Is she-?"

"She's a Mind," said Walter and Erin looked up sharply. "One with no goals of conquest," Walter reassured her. "She didn't even know what she was doing. Well, you know: she was tasked with the translation of the totem."

"Yes," said Erin, "but it should have been impossible without the amulet."

Walter fished the amulet out of his shirt and handed it to her. His nostrils flared. "That... fool... Dr. Vandas, hid the amulet on the mummy." On the walk to the house, Walter had decided that, not only was Dr. Vandas a power-hungry, ethically lacking human being, but that she was an idiot, too.

Erin took the amulet gingerly and looked at Walter. "But, why? If she was so keen on getting the totem to work, surely she knew what proximity of the totem, the amulet, and the mummy would result in."

Walter shook his head. "I don't think so. I don't think she knows as much as we thought."

Erin cocked her head to one side and started to say something.

"I know, I know, and I'm not saying she's not dangerous," said Walter. "Clearly, she is. I'm just saying that she's not as well informed as we previously thought."

"Well," said Erin, "I suppose that's good news, despite this... disaster."

Walter agreed that this was a disaster, but he wasn't sure that all of his colleagues in the Vindex Anima would agree. Almost all the Minds in history had become so willingly, after years of searching and out of a lust for power, as they assumed Karen Vandas was hoping to do. The benefits of being undead were many, but only the most sociopathic ever became Minds because the power called to them. There were a few cases of people becoming Minds by accident, and, for the most part, they went mad and destroyed themselves very soon afterwards. From that perspective, this was a disaster. Sarah Kline was not supposed to be a casualty. Planting evidence for her death would be complicated, especially given when Dr. Simms had seen.

There were two possible outcomes in addition to madness: either Sarah Kline would be so enamored with her new powers that she would try to use them for power over others, or, she would be so upset by what had happened that she would join the VA and fight other Minds and undead. Walter was sure that his superiors would be fighting tooth and nail for the latter. But, a coerced warrior was less than effective. Walter hoped that they let her make up mind herself. She may have fallen into this war, but she had no stock in either side winning. Sarah's life was over, in more ways than one, and that could turn her against both sides.

"I guess we better notify headquarters," said Erin. She walked back to the desk to make a very interesting phone call.

Walter stood still watching Sarah's body continue to fill out and become more human looking. "Yes, I suppose so," he whispered to himself. And to Sarah he whispered, "I'm so sorry."

Karen Vandas was sitting in her favorite plush wingback chair in her living room when the telephone range. It was very late, at least midnight. She wondered who would call at this hour.

"Hello?" The line was quiet for a moment, but there were background sounds of movement and a PA system.

Finally, a tense voice asked, "Karen?"

"Dr. Simms? Roger, is that you?"

Another pause. "Yes, Karen, it's me. I-" His voice caught. "S-she's... Sarah... she's dead."

Karen felt like someone had hit her head with a baseball bat. Pain and anger exploded inside of her. Who? Why? The totem? Her eyes narrowed. The amulet? But how? She forced her voice to be frail with concern. "My God, Roger. How?"

"I- uh... I'm not sure I can talk about it right now." His voice cracked at the end. Roger was sitting in a hard plastic hospital chair. The flourescent lights made everything seem sharp and surreal. Sarah was gone, and in some strange way that he had witnessed, but could not explain. He had done his level best to tell the paramedics and doctors that one minute she was fine and alive and the next, she was like this, but none of them believed him. He didn't mention the mummy or the amulet. He was thought maybe the amulet was involved, but Karen was involved with the amulet, and that made it more complicated. He thought it better to leave that part out. All of that strangeness in the lab, the news of Karen stealing artifacts, it all seemed so far in the past.

"Okay, Roger. When you're comfortable we can discuss it. Do you need anything? A ride home? Do you need me to call anyone else?"

Roger hung his head at the inanity of the paperwork and housekeeping involved with death. None of it seemed to matter at that moment. "No... no, I'll get a cab. Call Sarah's mother. I can't- I don't have the number here."

"Okay, Roger. Go home and get some sleep." Karen's mind was racing. She had to find the totem and the amulet; they were all that mattered now. Leaving suddenly like that, Roger probably left the totem in the lab. At least it would be safe there until morning. Karen had no way of knowing that all three precious artifacts had walked out of the lab.

Roger hung up the phone. He was done with paperwork for the night. He called for a cab, but didn't go home. The house was dark when he got there, but Roger knocked until the porch light came on and a tall blonde answered the door in her bathrobe.

"Roger, what are you doing here?"

Roger's eyes filled with tears as he looked up at Linda. "I-", he started, but didn't get any further before he broke down crying. Linda opened the screen door and helped him inside.

After dropping Sarah off at the house, Walter went in search of Karen Vandas. If she hadn't yet heard the news, she would be an easy target. Unfortunately, it looked like she had packed in a hurry. Walter hoped he could make it to her office in time to catch her there.

At that moment, Karen was boarding a plane for Cairo. She had legitimate reasons for going to Egypt, just not now, and not in the middle of the night. Fortunately, no one at the airport found it strange. When Karen went to Sarah's office and found it empty, with no sign of the totem, she went to the lab. Seeing the empty carcaphagus seemed to hit Karen physically, and she actually stumbled to the table where it laid. The crushing anguish of having her life's work disappear then gave way to something Karen did not feel often: fear. Someone who was not Roger or Sarah had known about the totem and the amulet.

It was always possible that thieves had broken in and stolen them, hoping to sell them, but it seemed unlikely. First of all, almost no one knew they were here. Secondly, it was too strange a coincidence. Karen wasn't sure that the totem was gone, but it seemed likely. Roger hadn't mentioned it and Karen was sure that Sarah had been working on the translation when she died. Given what Karen assumed the totem could do when used properly, raise the dead to life, she assumed that used improperly might have the opposite effect. From Roger's reaction on the phone, it sounded like whatever had killed Sarah had been sudden.

Holding herself up on the table's edge, Karen began to panic. She had to get out of here. If there was someone looking for the totem and amulet, they might be looking for her next. In fact, she thought, they might be the same people who killed Dr. Donovan at the temple! That thought put speed in her movements. She raced to her office and emptied her safe. She was willing to deal with the strange looks she would get from the rest of the faculty if it turned out she was wrong. If she was right, and someone was hunting her, she hoped she was far enough ahead of them. Again, it was possible that once these people had the artifacts, that they would be satisfied and she was not in danger. If that were the case, they might be in danger from her.

It felt strange, but to Karen, having information about a situation removed a lot of her fear. She was not afraid of dying (in the abstract), she was not afraid of legal reprocussions for they were insignificant compared with the powers she sought, but she was afraid of not knowing what was happening. It was like playing chess but only being able to see a 4 square area. Yes, once Karen knew who these people were, she might just see to it that Dr. Donovan's fate befell them as well.

Walter went to Karen Vandas' office and found her safe empty. That was a pretty sure sign that Dr. Vandas had left the area and was at least suspicious that someone was after her. This had not been a good night all around. It was close to 4:30am by the time Walter again walked up the steps of the house. He was tired and more than a little pissed, at himself, at Dr. Vandas, at Erin, and at fate. The cold November air leached heat out of him and the birds were still at least an hour away from waking. All in all, this had been one shitty day.

Walter walked down the steps and into the secret room. As he saw Sarah, he couldn't help but laugh. Almost instantly the laugh turned to the desperate, crazy laugh that he truly felt, but for a moment there was real levity in it. Sarah, with her now grey skin and black curly hair, was sitting cross-legged in a chair, reading from a computer screen, in a bright pink bathrobe. After her mummy bandages had been removed, she had nothing to wear. Erin promised to go out and get her clothes that would fit in the morning.

The reanimation was now complete and Sarah was as normal as she ever would be again. She was only as tall as the mummy was, just over five feet tall, and her hair had grown back as the mummy's color and texture, probably to the length it had been when the mummy died which was just over shoulder length. Her skin was as elastic as living skin, but cold to the touch. Beyond the differences in appearance between Sarah-as-Isis and the mummy, there were internal changes as well.

As a mummy Isis' major organs had been removed and placed in canopic jars, including her heart and brain. However, since she was dead, Sarah had no use for a heart, or lungs, stomach, or intestines. As a Mind undead, Sarah still needed an infrastructure for her soul. The empty space inside the mummy's head grew a tangled web of magical material, known to the VA as "mesh" which contained her soul. The mesh grew initially during the transference ceremony, but would continue to grow for several days. It was primarily this expanse of mesh which gave Minds such power. The power varied by individual, but at least five different undead power had been observed: ESP, control of fire, flight, sight beyond visible light, limited teleportation, and super hearing. Thinkers in the VA thought this might be related to the occupation or magical interests of the body the Minds took over. Indeed, not all Minds had any extra powers beyond those of simply being undead.

Sarah looked up at Walter's laugh. "I hate computers," she said. "What would take me ten minutes in the VA library is taking me forever on this thing."

Walter let out one last sad chuckle and walked over to where she was sitting. "What are you trying to do?"

"I want to know," said Sarah quietly, "if... this... is reversible."

Another pang of guilt hit Walter. It was his fault this had happened. If he had gotten to the amulet more quickly... But, it was done now. "I, uh, I don't know if anyone has ever tried."

Sarah was silent, considering her options.

"The thing is," said Walter, "most people who become Minds have been trying to do just that for years, sometimes for their entire lives. They don't want to reverse it."

"But surely...", whispered Sarah. "I mean, you said 'most' people. What about those who didn't choose it?" Sarah's voice waivered at the end. Her voice sounded high and strange to her, with a reedy quality that never quite left.

Walter looked piteously at her. Damn his slowness. "They either went mad or joined the Pollere Exanima in their quest for power."

Her voice trembled. "I hate latin," said Sarah. If she could still cry, she would have.

"Sarah," said Walter, after a moment, "I know you no longer need as much sleep as- well, as you once did, but just try. You'll feel better."

Sarah felt a bitter retort rise in her throat, but she pushed it down and nodded. Walter took her cold hands and led her to the back office where a cot had been set up. They couldn't risk her being seen, however indirectly, or it would raise suspicion they couldn't afford. "Sleep now and we'll talk more in the morning." Sarah rolled on her side away from Walter and tried to sleep.

Sighing heavily, Walter shut the door and went upstairs to get some sleep for himself. He just prayed that he was tired enough not to dream.

The next day, Erin went out and bought some clothes and shoes for Sarah. Although she didn't need them for warmth, they would both make Sarah look less unusual, and make her feel more normal. Erin bought jeans, a t-shirt, and a dark sweater. The sizes were right, but Erin, thinking she was being helpful, insisted that Sarah look at the clothes on her in a mirror to see if she liked how they looked. Erin thought focusing on the clothes would make Sarah feel more like herself. What she didn't know was that Sarah rarely looked at what she was wearing before all this, or what kind of reaction Sarah would have to seeing herself in this new body for the first time.

Sarah began by looking at the shoes, boring brown loafers. So far, so good. Then the jeans, up to the sweater, her mind not recognizing the grey things at the ends of the sleeves as her hands. Finally, she was forced to look at her head. Sarah had seen Isis so many times that she knew what the mummy looked like. Every time she tried to imagine herself inside the mummy's body, it was the shriveled, sunken face she saw. Sarah thought it was very strange to look from her own eyes and see a stranger staring back at her. To her surprise, she didn't recoil in horror right away. This fleshed out face looked less terrible than the shriveled one on the mummy. It was the eyes that evoked a startled gasp and pained cry. Sarah had never been a vain person, but she had been told she had lovely hazel eyes, and she enjoyed that. Her new eyes were of so light a grey as to be almost entirely white. They were disturbing to look at in general, worse because they were her own.

Sarah felt withdrawn, like she was all inside her mind and this body was simply a vehicle, a strange, human shaped vehicle, which she was driving. She looked down at her hands and wondered if she would ever feel connected to this shell. This must be how stroke victims feel, she thought, except that I've detatched from my entire body. A strange kind of calm came over her. Thinking of this body as something separate from herself made it easier to deal with, somehow.

Careful not to catch her reflection in the mirror, Sarah turned to Erin. The pained look on Erin's face said that she realized she had made a mistake. Sarah tried out a smile on the new face. "The clothes are fine, Erin. Thank you." Erin simply nodded.

The heavy-set man came in and handed a piece of paper to Erin. "They want you and Sarah to go up there tonight," he said.

"Go up where?" asked Sarah. Despite all that had happened last night, Sarah had wakened from sleep thinking that she really needed to get back to work and finish the translation for Karen. That made her sob dryly that morning, thinking about all the comfortable and enjoyable things in her life that had been ripped away. While she was still deeply disturbed at all of this, Sarah was coming to realize that this was not a dream, it was not temporary, and probably could not be undone. Knowing that, she also knew that she must learn to deal with this new life.

"We're going up to VA headquarters," said Erin.

"Why?"

Erin forgot who she was talking to briefly, and looked up to give an exasperated reply. When her eyes hit Sarah again, she looked away quickly and said, "uh, the directors want to meet you and they will probably ask you to join us."

Sarah grunted. That sounded very dull. She had learned quite a bit from the computer about the VA, history, structure, etc. And she had learned enough to know that there was bueraucracy even in the fight against the undead.

"We'll leave tonight after dark," said Erin, "so that you won't be noticed." Sarah thought Erin should have bought a bag for her head, too, while out shopping.

Walter woke after noon and left the house without seeing or speaking to Sarah. His dreams had been few, but brutally clear about how guilty he still felt. He tried to remember that what was done was done, but it was hard.

With Dr. Vandas gone, there wasn't much to do here for the immediate future. Walter did want to see how Roger Simms was coping. He was the only other eyewitness who might be able to expose, however cryptically, the existence of undead creatures.

Dr. Simms wasn't in his office and all his classes had been cancelled for the day. That wasn't unusual, given how close he and Sarah were, but he wasn't at home either. He wasn't at Linda's house, and he wasn't at any of the other probable locations Walter checked. Walter really wanted to call the house and ask Sarah where he might be, but he didn't want to open that particular topic right now. Sarah was busy dealing with the changes to her life and hadn't begun to consider the impact her death had had on others'.

Walter finally found Roger, sitting in the guest chair in Sarah's office. Walter was watching from the stairwell, two doors down. Roger sat unmoving in the chair, his feet flat on the floor and his back hunched. After about ten minutes of this, Roger said quietly aloud, "so, do you want to get lunch, Sarah? How does mexican sound? Okay, mexican it is." Walter heard Roger start to cry and say, "I love you, Sarah. I always did. I guess I should have told you that."

The pain in Walter burned at hearing this and his stomach churned. He left the stairwell and the building. Roger was no threat, and Walter didn't need to be reminded again of how he had screwed up.

The car ride to headquarters took six hours. Erin was normally not very talkative and under the circumstances was less so. She told Sarah who they were meeting with and their roles in the VA. She wouldn't tell Sarah why they wanted to see her, but it was pretty clear to Sarah. They wanted her to join them.

Sarah tried not to think about that for the five and a half hours after that conversation. Instead, she tried to imagine that she had been re-incarned mid-life, and tried to think of what she would do with this new life. Unfortunately, every time she felt her own cold skin, she was reminded that this was not life at all. She couldn't find a lot of the answers she sought on the computer and Erin seemed unwilling to discuss it, out of fear of saying the wrong thing or out of ignorance, Sarah couldn't tell. She had questions like "will I ever die?", "do I have to eat?", "can I eat?", "do all the Minds look like me?", "how many Minds are there?", "where do the Mindless come from?", "who made that totem anyway?". Her naturally curious mind had opened a bit from its self-defensive cocoon in the hours before the car trip.

They finally arrived at an old stone mansion, a fitting place for the headquarters of a secret society. The man who answered the door showed no signs of being awed or terrified of Sarah; others in the house were not so composed. Erin was spirited away by a balding man in suspenders and a bow-tie while Sarah was taken up to meet the directors.

They were all seated at the far end of a long table. The conference room looked like it used to be a dining hall, with two large fireplaces at either end and one wall was made almost entirely of large, stained-glass windows. The directors were mostly middle-aged, though at least two were younger, and one was extremely old. Sarah counted eleven directors in all. The man at the head of the table was middle-aged, with a full head of hair just beginning to grey. He gestured to Sarah to come closer and sit down.

Sarah sat down and watched the directors watch her. "You probably have a lot of questions," said the man at the table's head. Sarah nodded. She had never liked big groups of people. The man smiled and introduced himself. "My name is James Finnagan. I am the head of the board of directors for the Vindex Anima. I'm told you already know what that means." Sarah nodded again.

James gestured to those around the table. "Not to insult my colleagues, but I won't bother introducing them. I'm terrible with names and usually forget them in these kinds of situations." A part of Sarah's brain wondered how often "these kinds of situations" arose. "We know about what happened, and we know some of your history from the work Walter Bane was doing, but we'd like to hear it from you."

Sarah gave him a puzzled look. This felt like an interview or a thesis defense committee, not a meeting of head zombie hunters.

"We want to know what kind of a person you were... before. It helps us, uh, couch our questions and answers appropriately."

"You mean, you want to know if I can be trusted enough to join you." Sarah was not very good at reading people, but she had a logical mind, and it only made sense. Ten of the eleven directors shifted in their chairs. James continued to look levelly into those disturbing white eyes. "Yes" was all he said.

"Very well," said Sarah. "I grew up in central Illinois. My mother was a librarian and my father was a truck driver. I'm an only child. My father died while I was in high school. I went to college and majored in history for undergrad and my areas of study for grad school were archeology, egyptology, and ancient languages. My Ph.D. is in egyptology. I worked for the University of Chicago for several years after graduating until I heard of a job opening working with Dr. Karen Vandas. As a leader in the field, I wanted to work with her, so I applied for and got the job. I'm single. I don't have any pets. I'm allergic to strawberries." She paused. Sarah was being honest, but also a smart ass and she knew it. These people were not the reason she was now dead, but she also resented that they saw here merely as a tool. So, she added, "And, until two days ago, I was a living human being."

The directors whose eyes had started to glaze over suddenly found her story interesting and other again shifted in their seats.

"Is that what you want to know?" asked Sarah sweetly.

"Not exactly," said James, "but I understand what you're getting at."

"Good." Sarcasm did not come easily to Sarah except when she was very upset. The threshold to make her upset had been lowered considerably in the last two days.

"Well, then," said James. "As to your questions of us: ask away."

"Will I ever die?"

A thin, pale man answered this question. "We call it 'being destroyed' because as you pointed out, you are already dead. But, yes, you can be destroyed."

"How?"

"By beheading and then by fire. I am director of undead extermination. I can give you more details, if you want."

Sarah recoiled slightly. This man seemed eager to do his job, and his title made no mention of evil undead or Pollere Exanima, just 'undead'. "No, that's alright. But if I don't sustain injury, will I die?"

"No. If you are not destroyed as I mentioned, you will 'live' forever."

Sarah nodded and asked, "do I have to eat?"

A fit, middle-aged woman answered this question. "No. You no longer age or grow, so you do not require food. Your body will regenerate, at an alarming rate, if damaged. This damage is repaired by the mesh and the greater the damage, the longer you must sleep to repair it."

"Do all the Minds look like me?"

"No," said James. "What you look like is determined by the body you come to inhabit. That being said, there are several Minds who chose mummies or other ancient bodies as theirs and they do look similar to you. The others look... normal... except their skin is waxy and dead looking and, of course, they are cold to the touch."

"How many Minds are there?"

A middle-aged man who looked like an accountant answered, "including you, twenty-three."

Sarah frowned, "it takes an organization of this size to hunt twenty-two people?"

"They're not people," said the thin man, "they're undead, and extremely old and cunning. Also, they are powerful, both among the living and the dead, so they are well protected."

"By the Mindless?" asked Sarah.

"Primarily," said the thin man. "They may also have guards among the living, but the Mindless are the largest, and cheapest, source of guards."

"Where do the Mindless come from?"

The woman, who Sarah assumed was a medical doctor, answered. "The Mindless are animated dead bodies. They do not have mind or soul or will to guide them. They exist and they obey only the one who raised them back to life."

"Okay," said Sarah, "speaking of bringing the dead back to life, who made that totem anyway? The inscription was in ancient egyptian when I read it, but before that it had been some heiratic script I couldn't decipher."

The very oldest man present creaked out a laugh. "Yes, yes, egyptian when you read it because that's what you expected to see. If you expected english, it would have been english. If you expected pig latin, that's what you'd get. But it's the amulet you should be concerned about."

"Why? It only seemed to make the text readable while the totem seemed to contain the power."

"The amulet is like an amplifier of magic and spiritual energy. It is required to make a useful force out of many of the powers the undead Minds possess. The amulet and the totem in conjunction are required for reanimation or transference."

"So, one needs the totem to make the Mindless, too? How many of these things are there?"

The accountant spoke. "Seventeen, including the ones we recovered with you. Not every Mind has one, both by how they were originally reanimated, and by our capture of two totems."

Sarah goggled. Seventeen! Sarah had imagined that only the one she used existed and it seemed dangerous enough on its own. It was a miracle the entire planet had not yet been turned to the undead. No wonder there was such urgency and devotion in the Vindex Anima. "Oh my."

The old man chuckled. "You see now."

Still, these were people who's stated goal was the "extermination" of the undead, a category into which Sarah now fell. She had yet to see or experience anything more evil in being undead than she had in the living. Like being lied to by her mentor and boss. The VA directors wanted to know if they could trust her, but she still wasn't certain that she could trust them not to dispense with her once she had helped them kill all the other undead.

After a moment, James asked, "will you join us?"

Sarah looked at him as his question echoed her thoughts. She hadn't signed up for this, any of it. It was just bad luck that had brought about this terrible turn of events. What she wanted to do at this moment was to try to live as normal a life as possible. She wasn't interested in risking "being destroyed" just to fight someone else's war. Sarah looked around the table and then back at James Finnagan. "I need to think about it."

James considered her thoughtfully and then nodded. "Very well."

The old man looked directly at Sarah, with eyes cloudy with age, but still hard and unyielding. "Sarah," he said, "you will be tempted to think your way to a decision. Don't."

Andrew Brument sometimes hated getting news second hand. Mostly, he preferred to delegate the actual work to others, but in some cases, usually in hindsight, he would like to do the work himself. For example, yesterday, he had received a maddeningly vague message from one of his spies that "something had gone wrong" with acquiring the Vandas totem and amulet. Now, apart from his daily activities of keeping all the Pollere Exanima members up to date on their search, there was nothing to do but wait for more news.

Andrew drummed his manicured nails on the heavy desk's surface. The house had been his for over three hundred years, as had this body. He examined his nails and thought that he had chosen his immortal host very well. His body was slim, but not skinny, his skin a very slight olive color, and his shoulder length hair was dark brown and wavy. Yes, it was a good body.

One thing that he understood before his death and reanimation was that the transference was a one-shot deal. The totems could move a soul from a living body into a dead one, but they could not move a Mind's soul from one undead body to another. No one understood why, just as no one alive today understood the means by which the totems worked, just that they did. Because he knew this, Andrew Brument took great pains in selecting the body he would be immortal in.

At three hundred years old, Andrew was one of the youngest Minds in the PE, but also one of the most powerful. His lust for power was great, as was his skill as a researcher, and his cunning in dealing with other power-hungry Minds. Before Andrew became the de facto head of the PE, they were a loose amalgamation of the oldest Minds, with no real purpose or goal. In fact their purpose and goal had been to continue to conquer death and to enjoy their immortality. The oldest Minds had been around since Egypt's Middle Kingdom. The power they sought was modest by comparison to that of the younger generation. They were concerned with having servants to do their work and some to worship them as gods. All the benefits they saw showered upon their god-king could now be theirs, and for a much longer period of time.

Before Andrew's time, there had been several Minds that tried to rule the Pollere Exanima rather than to lead it. They were struck down by the others and no one tried again for many years. The PE was content with their position until Andrew joined them. He was not the first to suggest that being undead made them superior to the living, but he was the most persuasive. And, beyond just identifying this fact or lauding it, he was the first to suggest that action be taken because of it. Those who were content to be immortal among normal humans left the PE and continued their safe, contented existence. Most of the members of the PE began to see Andrew's point: in their times, to have servants and to be worshipped was enough, but times had changed. These days, power meant not only the power to control people directly, but to guide the sequence of all of history by controlling the leaders of nations, however indirectly. Power meant controlling how people thought, not just how they behaved. Power was a more subtle form of control these days, where those being controlled didn't even know it.

So, the quest for power which had created so many Minds was no longer limited to the number of Mindless one had or the number of other Minds one could convert. Power meant controlling the world, but having no one realize that's what was happening. That didn't mean that the ancient power of the totems and amulets were no longer relevant, because they certainly were the basis for all their powers as the undead. And, due to their limited number and propensity for being hard to find, they were extremely valuable. Which was why Andrew was waiting impatiently by the phone for news of what the something was that had gone wrong with the recovery of the most recent artifacts to be unearthed.

Andrew picked up the phone as it was ringing. "Yes?" It was one of his spies, a mortal, who was usually very reliable. "Sir, the totem and amulet are gone. We suspect the VA may have them. Second,"

"There's more?" asked Andrew, incredulous that that was not the only bad news Mr. Baker had for him.

"Yes, sir. Dr. Karen Vandas has fled to Egypt, taking all of her notes with her. Third," said Mr. Baker and paused briefly as he still had a hard time believing it, "the young woman who worked for Dr. Vandas has disappeared."

"So?"

Mr. Baker hesitated. "Sir, she's disappeared and so has Dr. Vandas' mummy. We think... uh, we think the young woman accidentally transfered herself into the mummy and is now a Mind." He rushed at the end to get all the bad news out of his hands. He didn't want to think of the implications, he was more a doer than a thinker.

"Accide-" said Andrew and stopped. Dr. Vandas was the one they expected to be a Mind by now, but she had fled to Egypt and this other woman was the Mind. Damn, they were really hoping to have someone of Dr. Vandas' determination in the PE. And if this other woman had become a Mind accidentally, she probably would not be interested in Andrew's plans. Still, she may have potential, and, she was a Mind. The Pollere Exanima were the closest thing she had to kinsmen now. "Very well," said Andrew. "We need to get in touch with this young woman as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir," said Mr. Baker. He suspected that the VA agents that had taken the totem and amulet had also taken the young woman, but he wasn't sure, and he didn't want to tell Mr. Brument until he was sure.

Walter wasn't looking forward to the conversation ahead of him. He'd spent hours stewing about it, but now he was at VA headquarters and being shown to Sarah's room. He would have to tell her about Roger. He just hoped his own guilt and sadness didn't color the story.

They had given Sarah a room at the back of the house, with a view overlooking the hilly acreage behind it. The day was grey with mist and cool rather than chilly. Sarah had lit a fire in the fireplace and was sitting in the window seat, staring out at the hills, watching the crows.

She turned her head to the door when Walter came in, but then looked back outside. The guide left them alone and Walter waited near the door until she broke the silence.

"I don't really need the fire," she said. "I don't feel cold or heat like I used to. Now, it's sort of an academic sensation, another data point, but there's no feeling to it."

Walter's stomach sank lower in his belly. This was all his fault. He had lost his wife and now he couldn't save Sarah. Perhaps it was best that he spend most of his time away from innocent people.

Sarah gave a dry sob. "And it makes me crazy that I can't cry."

At that, Walter walked slowly over to Sarah and sat on a nearby ottoman. He took her hand in his. Startled by this, Sarah turned to face him, fear and hopelessness evident on her face.

"Sarah," he said, "I'm sorry." His voice caught at the end and he coughed to recover. "I'm sorry I didn't get there in time to stop you."

Sarah withdrew her hand and turned back to the window. "You didn't do this," she said. "You've been nothing but kind to me." Her voice darkened. "Karen did this to me. But, that's not true either. I read the words; I did this to me."

"Sarah, you can't blame yourself."

"Why not?!" she yelled. "Everything and everyone that meant anything to me is now gone! And there's nothing I can do about it." She sobbed again and held herself against her knees.

Walter knew this argument, this train of thought. He'd had it himself, three years earlier. "Sarah, I know how you feel, but-"

"How can you possibly know how I feel?!" yelled Sarah with such venom that he recoiled as if struck.

"Because my wife was turned into a zombie!" Walter yelled back. It was Sarah's turn to be stunned.

Sarah wispered, "how-?"

Walter got up to pace. "My wife's name was Rebecca. She was my everything, my life. Driving home one night, she was killed in a car accident. A few days later, her body disappeared. I had been stalking the morgue when I saw her lifeless body walk out the back door of the morgue. She was a Mindless."

Sarah's own pain was forgotten for a moment. "Walter, I'm sorry. I- I didn't know."

"Huh! That's not the worst part," said Walter with a mad little chuckle. "I'm the one who destroyed her. I beheaded and burned my wife's lifeless body."

"Oh my god," whispered Sarah.

Walter finally lost what little control he had over his emotions and sat back down on the ottoman to cry. Sarah reached out and touched his shoulder. "So don't tell me I don't know how you feel," said Walter into his knees. They sat there for a moment, Sarah's grey had resting on Walter's shoulder, him crying the tears that Sarah could not.

Walter finally recovered enough to look up, but he wasn't ready to talk about Roger just yet. "Have you made any decisions about joining the VA?" he asked.

Sarah removed her hand from Walter's shoulder and looked out the window again. "No," she said. "I mean, I'm an egyptologist. What do I know about hunting and killing zombies?" Sarah had taken to using Walter's word for the undead. It made them easier to dehumanize and just sounded less clinical.

"I didn't know anything either," said Walter. "I think willingness to learn is probably enough. And, you have the advantage of being almost indestructible. Soon you should be feeling your new power, if you get one. Think of it, see the world, hunt interesting people, and kill them! What could be better?"

"Who are you trying to convince?" asked Sarah with a small smile.

"Heh, so much for my sales pitch," said Walter. Well, he couldn't procrastinate forever. "I, uh, actually came to tell you something. I was hoping you'd be in a better mood, but I have to go meet with the directors soon." He paused. The sound of Roger's lament was still very clear. "I have some news about Roger."

Sarah's head snapped around. "What about him?" she asked, fearfully.

"Oh, no, it's nothing like that," said Walter and Sarah relaxed. "Roger is taking this pretty hard. I don't think he's in any danger from the PE or from himself, but it will be a while before he recovers from, uh, your death. He's been over to see Linda a few times and even had lunch with Dr. Wilkins once or twice. It's not easy to lose one you care about so suddenly."

Sarah suddenly felt stupid. Here she had been worried about how her life had been destroyed, but she was still alive in some sense and had a chance to live on for a long while. She hadn't given even a passing thought to those she left behind. It must have been horrible to watch a good friend die. Poor Roger! "I have to tell him what's happened," said Sarah.

"Uh," said Walter, "I don't think that's a good idea, not to mention extremely dangerous for all of us."

"But it's just Roger," said Sarah. "I'm sure he'd understand. I just want him to know that I'm safe."

"Sarah, this is a really bad idea," said Walter standing up. "Please just trust me on this one. I can go back and check on Roger next week if you still want to keep tabs on how he's getting along, okay?"

Sarah nodded and looked out the window again. Walter sincerely hoped that she wouldn't try and do anything stupid. He'd seen her at the university and she didn't seem like the impulsive type, so they were probably safe. Well, at least for now.

Dr. Karen Vandas loved Egypt, but this trip was less about work or pleasure and more about surviving. She was now certain that someone was after her. Dr. Wilkins had called her and said that it looked like someone had been in her office after she left. She was still in Cairo, moving from hotel to hotel while she waited. She had to be sure no one was following her before she went back out to the dig site where the temple was found.

She thought it might not be the smartest plan ever, but she was certain the temple was involved with the amulet and totem. Maybe there was some clue in the temple that she had missed the first time. When she thought it was safe, she paid a guide and young tourist woman to go out to the temple, just look around, and then come back. If they survived, then she would go herself.

The Mind near the temple was not fooled and let the decoys come and go. Their target would be here soon enough. In the meantime, he was getting some more research done for Andrew Brument. They must find a way to power the altar in the temple if their plans were ever going to succeed.

Two days after the tourist woman and guide had returned safely, Karen hired the same guide to take her back to the temple by the same route. They arrived and entered the temple. It was just as magnificent as she remembered. The smell of cool sandstone was so invigorating to Karen. It reminded her of her first dig, where she had found a small tablet, discarded, apparently, which referred to bringing the dead to life. Since that day, she was hooked. And now, she had been so close to understanding it all.

If only that bitch Sarah hadn't been so stupid! Reading the totem aloud was pretty stupid. Even not knowing what the totem did, the head and foot rings were pretty clear that a mighty power was at work. And the amulet! It was a beautiful piece by itself, but with its magical powers, it was priceless. She felt so stupid. She should never have let either one of her sight and simply done the translation herself.

While Karen was obsessing over mistakes of the past, the Mindless had slipped into the temple from the trap door behind the altar. Karen ground her teeth to interrupt her chain of thought and turned her attention to the altar. She turned to face it and stumbled backwards as she came face to waxy face with a zombie. They jumped forward and caught her before she fell, one putting its cold hand over her mouth. She struggled against their incredible strength, but they held her fast. One of the Mindless pulled out a syringe and gave her an injection of something which made her world spin and go black.

Sarah watched Roger walk from the History Annex to his car. He looked tired and lethargic, as if just being alive was taxing him to the point of exhaustion. Sarah had waited until night and easily overpowered the guard the VA directors had left at her door. The cars in the garage were James Finnagan's and they were beautiful. Sarah took porsche because she had always wanted to drive one.

She hoped he was going home and not to Linda's. Sarah didn't know how quickly the VA could react once they knew she was gone, so she didn't know how much time she had. And this was quite a story. Sarah drove to Roger's house by a different route than he would take and beat him there by virtue of the porsche's speed. Roger got his things from the front seat and went inside. Sarah followed him in.

She tried to be subtle, but was never very good at that. "Roger," she said softly. Roger turned his head slowly, disbelieving his ears, and then staggered backwards out of the kitchen, dropping the mail he was sorting on the floor.

"Who are you?" asked Roger, his voice tense with fear.

"Roger, it's me, Sarah," said Sarah and immediately realized how stupid that sounded. Her voice, her face, everything, was completely different.

"Get out of my house!" yelled Roger. "Or I'll call the police."

"No, Roger, it's me. I-" Sarah needed a way to convince him of who she was. "We used to go get Indian food at that place on 7th for lunch sometimes. I was doing translation work for Karen on the totem and you suggested I look into secret societies." Roger remained unconvinced and was fumbling for the telephone.

"You were dating a woman named Linda and I used to call her 'looovly Linda'." Roger slowed down his fumbling, but didn't stop. "You took her to a KISS concert two nights before I died."

Roger stopped fumbling with the telephone and looked at Sarah. "No," said Roger with tears in his eyes. "No, Sarah Kline is dead. I saw her die."

"Yes, Roger, you did. It was the totem: the totem and the amulet and me reading the inscription aloud and the mummy, Isis. All of them together and I died, but my soul was transfered to Isis. This body, Roger, is- was- the mummy."

Roger shook his head. This was too strange. This... creature... knew things that only Sarah would know, especially about the nickname for the mummy and what happened that night. But, it was clearly not Sarah.

"Roger, I need you to believe me. I only came back here for you. I came back to tell you that I was alright, that I'm still alive, kind of, but that I'm safe. Do you understand?"

"No," said Roger flatly. It was not an answer to the question, but defiance of his senses and to this creature's claims to be Sarah. "I want you to leave now."

Sarah wasn't sure what she had expected, but this wasn't it. Roger was skeptical, as any good scientist is, but in this case, she wished he would take some things on faith. Well, she had done what she came to do. "Roger, I'm going to leave you the address of the Vindex Anima house here in town. They're a group of people who, well, they know a lot about people like me."

She held out a piece of paper for him to take, but he ignored her hand and kept staring at her in defiance. She put the paper on the end table. "If you decide that you can trust me like you once did, then go to this house and ask for me. I may not be there, but they'll know who I am."

Sarah wished that he would do or say something more instead of just standing there. Finally, she walked towards the front door and stopped. "I'm sorry, Roger. I'm sorry you had to see me die." She shut the door quietly behind her and went back to the Porsche. She was driving down the road when Roger broke down in tears on his living room floor.

James Finnagan was not usually given to fits of rage. In this case, he would make an exception. He stood at the head of the conference table, his fists still on the table where he had slammed them, his nostrils flaring. "Sarah Kline is the most valuable resource this organization has ever had and you let her escape!"

The man who headed security for the VA was not intimidated. Michael Walker knew how important his role was and he was normally very good at his job. "She was not a prisoner, James!" he yelled back. "She should have told us she was leaving, yes, but unless you never intended to let her go, she was still a guest here."

James ripped his hands up from the table and began to pace. "The guard at her door-"

"Was a courtesy to Sarah, should she need anything, not a jailer. And he'll be fine, by the way; Sarah was careful not to cause serious injury."

James glared at Michael, both for interrupting him and for being right. As much as James wanted Sarah to choose to join the Vindex Anima, he would rather she were dead than risk her deciding to join the Pollere Exanima instead. She was an asset, but who knew what being undead did to one's sense of reason. Some in the VA had even argued that it was not evil people who became the undead but that becoming undead made one evil. Thomas Hyde, head of undead psychology and history, was one of those people. He carefully refrained from saying "I told you so" at this meeting.

"Do we have any idea where she's gone?" asked James, his voice calming a bit.

"Right now," said Michael, "we think she's gone back to the university, looking for someone or something from when she was alive." He did not have to remind James that she had taken one of his favorite cars to get there.

James grunted. "Alert Erin, if you haven't already, and tell her to be on the lookout for Sarah and anyone she might be talking with. In her state, we don't know how anyone who sees her might react. We can't afford increased scrutiny, not right now." He was referring to the other piece of bad news that had sent him over the edge of rage that morning. It appeared that the woman who was the focus of this whole operation had been captured by the PE in Egypt. "Thomas, why would the PE take Dr. Vandas prisoner rather than just killing her on the spot."

Thomas shrugged slightly. All he had was speculation, but it was educated speculation. "There are three possibilities I can think of: one, they want to use her knowledge and expertise in regards to the temple they've been so keen on protecting, two, since she discovered much of the truth on her own, they may tell her all of it and offer to make her a Mind, three, both of the above."

James stopped pacing and sat down. He was amused by Thomas' phrasing: "offer to make her a Mind". The PE rarely did anything that was not in their best interest. "As we have seen, Karen Vandas is unethical at best, power-hungry and ruthless at worst. Why would they make a Mind out of someone who could pose such a threat to them?"

Thomas shrugged again. "It's possible that her knowledge gives her some leverage where her future is concerned. It's also possible that the PE would like to have as much Mind power on their side in the short term and that they will deal with the long term consequences later."

James nodded. The could not afford to allow the PE to grow in size, especially with one as skilled in research as Dr. Vandas. Who knows what other totems and magical treasures lay waiting to be discovered. As the undead, Karen would have all the time in the world to search for them, and the living would pay the price. "Alright," he said finally, "I want a strike team to go after Dr. Vandas. Have them take Walter Bane along, at least until they locate her. He will know best how to find her."

What had been an orderly march towards stopping the creation of another Mind had become chaos. Worse, with Karen Vandas to assist the PE Matthew Vincent in their work at the temple in Egypt, the timetable was accelerating at an alarming rate. Dammit, they would need everyone they could get to deal with the situation in Egypt. They didn't have time or resources to go running after Sarah right now, but James was certain she would useful in Egypt.

"Also, send a retrieval team after Sarah Kline. We need her back."

Michael nodded and said, "and if she won't come willingly?"

"We need her back here," said James, "willingly or not."

Walter was really getting tired of this drive. He had spent so much time driving back and forth between the university and headquarters these last few days that he knew every rest area and truck stop by heart. Walter had been told to accompany the strike force to Egypt, but they were currently on their way to Cairo and he was on his way to the city. He told them as much as he knew about how and where to find Dr. Vandas. Since that was all he was really there to do, he figured that was good enough. Besides, he had something more important to attend to.

It was his fault that Sarah was a Mind, and it was his fault that she had run back to the city to see Roger. If he hadn't told her about how he was or was not coping with things, she probably wouldn't have gone. He was still conflicted about whether to tell Sarah what he had really overheard while checking up on Roger. Sarah was a different person now and had enough to deal with without learning that Roger loved her. It would probably tear her up inside because she could never hope to go back to a normal life.

To be fair, Sarah could just take the path the first Minds did and settle down in a very secluded area and just live. But if Walter understood Sarah at all, he understood that her drive to learn, to solve problems, and to discover new things were her reasons to live. Without the ability to do those things, she would shrivel up on the inside, wither and die as a person and be alive only in the loosest sense. And Walter did not believe it was possible for her to do those things in the normal world. But, she could still do those things for the VA.

Walter served the VA because he believed in the cause. He knew that they were imperfect and sometimes had their priorities out of order, but he still believed in the good work they did. A lot of the people in the VA managed their fear, frustration, and loss with hatred. The VA had institutionalized the idea that the undead, Mind or Mindless, were monsters with no feelings, abominations against nature and the living. With that mindset, destroying zombies was a glorious task and a calling of true good. Even Walter had believed this for his first two years.

Then, on an assignment to kill a Mind in Russia, he hesitated. The Mind he was sent to kill was no doubt evil, using his powers to murder innocent people because it gave him a thrill. After tracking him down and pinning him to the ground, Walter pulled out his knife to behead him and hesitated. In the man's eyes, Walter saw fear. Two years of indoctrination held and Walter destroyed the Mind with no remorse, but that hesitation planted the seed of question.

Over the last year, Walter had begun to realize that the matter was not as simple as the VA would have their soldiers believe. The Minds were still people, however evil in nature and horrific in form. This brought their work closer to vigilante than to holy warrior, which was a harder position to justify. Walter still believed that what they were doing was right, but it was less self-reightous than it used to be.

Now, to make things even more complicated, a Mind existed who was not evil or power-hungry. Sarah's existence flew in the face of everything the VA leaders had been teaching since their inception. The directors understood the value of having a Mind on their side, but they were at a loss to explain it to the lay members of the VA. After years of being able to say categorically "the undead are evil", the directors now had to add exceptions or qualifications. Walter believed the guard at Sarah's door at headquarters was as much to protect her from the members of the VA as it was to keep her there or get her anything she needed.

All of which was why he was driving back to the city to look for Sarah. He knew that the directors would have sent a team to bring her back, but he did not know if they could overcome their hatred of zombies to take her back alive. Walter feared for her safety with more than just an academic or strategic interest in her survival. He had come to realize that even before her transformation, Sarah had been special. Like his wife, she had been happy with who and where she was in life. Being part of the force which changed all that made his stomach tighten. Despite the help she could be to the VA, Walter would like to see her living somewhere and happy again.

The Vindex Anima records on known Pollere Exanima members was very complete. Sarah had the name and contact information for a low-level member of the PE right in the city. It amazed her to think that all of this was going on while she was researching and eating indian food in complete ignorance. Sarah had contacted Scott Knight, the Mind from the VA records, and setup a meeting to talk with him.

She still wasn't sure what her motives were. For one thing, she was curious to meet others like her. For another, she wanted to get more than one side of the living-versus-undead story. Sarah didn't doubt that the VA had told the truth, but their own prejudices undoubtedly colored their stories and caused them to make convenient omissions. And, she couldn't help but feel the eyes of others on her when she walked around VA headquarters. She was, after all, a zombie and their sworn enemy. Part of her wanted to overreact and join the PE just because the living hated her so much.

But, she still had to hear what Scott had to say. Maybe the VA were right and he was just as vile and undeniably evil as they said all PE were. Sarah was still gathering data and could not make up her mind without knowing at least a few more facts.

Sarah had decided that the best way to hide in public was to put on gloves and wear a Muslim scarf and veil. She found suitable material in the drop-off box for some charity or another. Feeling emboldened by her first successful attempts to interact with the living dressed as such, she decided to kill time waiting for her meeting with Scott in the city's museum of natural history. It had been a long time since she could just look at the displays in the ancient Egypt section without nit-picking or looking for something in particular. Today, she just enjoyed the memory of her first exposure to ancient artifacts and how it had moved her to make a career of it.

While standing in a quiet corridor, pondering the irony of the Egyptian book of the dead, she felt rather than heard someone come up beside her. She didn't turn to look, but moved a little further down.

"They say that Isis was the wife of Osiris, ruler of the underworld," said Walter quietly.

Sarah looked sharply in his direction. "Yes, she was also his sister. However it was Anubis that was the judge of the dead and who guided souls into the underworld."

"Interesting," said Walter.

"Are you here to guide me somewhere?" asked Sarah, walking a bit further on.

Walter made a non-committal noise and followed at a reasonable distance. "That depends on you," he said. "I'm only here to guide willing souls."

"And what if this soul finds that she belongs with Osiris after all?"

"I believe all souls should go where they feel called," Walter said. "I cannot speak for other... servants of Ra, but I will not try to guide you where you do not wish to go."

"Then perhaps we should continue this discussion outside," said Sarah. She and Walter left the museum and went back to his car which was parked in the far corner of a parking garage.

"So, what are your plans?" asked Walter once they were inside the car.

Sarah looked down at her gloved hands and sighed. "I honestly don't know yet. I'm meeting with Scott Knight in about an hour, and-"

"You're what?!" Walter whipped his head around to look at Sarah. He had considered the possibility that Sarah would look upon other Minds as "her people", but never seriously. She had nothing in common with them except for being undead. But, she, of course, didn't know that. She only had the word of those who would like to see her and everyone like her dead. Much more controlled, Walter said, "can I ask why you're meeting with Scott Knight?"

Taken slightly aback by Walter's reaction, she tread carefully. "I, uh, wanted to hear the Pollere Exanima's side of the story. Scott Knight was the only PE in the area that seemed rational."

While Walter wished she hadn't contacted anybody in the PE, he was glad she chose Mr. Knight. Scott was Matthew Vincent's research assistant when they were both among the living, almost a hundred and thirty years ago. Matthew was the one with the insatiable desire for power over the living, while Scott was merely unethical and believed that living forever was its own kind of power. Matthew transferred himself to the mummy of Amenhotep III with Scott's help. After watching Matthew reanimate and seeing his power of short-range teleportation develop, Scott decided to become a Mind as well. They killed one of the young egyptian guides and used his body as the vessel for Scott's soul. Once back in the States, Scott settled in New York City and flew to wherever Michael needed him. Scott was also one of the few Minds to embrace technology and computers when they were developed. The VA records didn't say if Scott had any extra powers as a Mind. They considered him a threat because they considered all of the undead a threat, but he was very low on the list of dangerous Minds.

"Well," said Walter, "I can think of worse PEs to contact. Where are you supposed to meet him?"

Sarah frowned under her veil. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because if you're intent on going through with this meeting, I'm going with you."

It was Sarah's turn to be shocked. "What?! What makes you think I want you there? Or, that he'll even meet with me if knows you're coming?"

Walter shrugged. "First, he doesn't know I'm coming. Second, Scott may be the most rational of the PEs, but that doesn't make him a safe person to be around. Third, I would rather risk annoying you than to find out later that you were destroyed."

"You mean I'm too valuable to the VA to let go," said Sarah darkly.

"I didn't say that. I said I didn't want to see you destroyed," said Walter softly.

Sarah sighed. "And you'll let me talk with Scott without offering your views?" Walter nodded. "And if I decide to join Scott Knight?"

Walter nodded. "I won't try to stop you. You have to do what's in your heart." Walter's comment jogged Sarah's memory back to what the old man with the VA directors had said: don't try to think your way through this. Maybe he was right. Maybe even if being with her own kind made the most logical sense in the world, she should listen to her heart. That was very unnatural for Sarah, but she would try to think with both her heart and her head.

"Alright," said Sarah, "I'm meeting him in an abandoned church at this address."

Walter raised an eyebrow. Sarah explained, "it was my choice. I wasn't sure that I'd be able to be seen in public by then."

"Okay," said Walter, "let's go."

They parked the car half a block away from the church so that Walter could check out the area. Sarah thought he was being overly cautious, but this was his area of expertise, not hers. Once he was satisfied that it was safe for the moment, they proceeded to the church. It must have been a magnificent building at one time. It was tall for the area and towered over the row houses on the same block. It wasn't that late, but darkness came early in the late days of fall and the occasional street light didn't provide much help.

Most of the houses were dark, but the area was not deserted. Sarah chose this area because it reminded her of an area she lived in during her grad school years in Chicago. The people here were hard working folks, down on their luck, who didn't run to the police over every little strange thing that happened. The church was boarded up and it looked like some intrepid souls had attempted to fix it up some years back.

Sarah found a way in and Walter followed her, looking back over his shoulder. Something didn't feel right to him, but this whole thing was outside his realm of experience. Other than to kill them, Walter had never sought out a PE Mind before. They emerged from a side door into the sanctuary where Scott Knight was already waiting for them.

Sarah's first thought was that Scott had sent a living human in his place because he looked so normal. Even with the pictures she had seen, Sarah didn't really believe that one could look so normal and still be undead. It went against her limited, but extremely personal, experience with the undead. Still, there he was with tight curly black hair and mocha skin. Scott's body probably wasn't more than twenty years old when he had taken over. He wore tailored khakis and a t-shirt and was looking a little bored when Sarah and Walter entered the room.

Scott Knight had felt them when they found the back entrance to the church. Not even Matthew Vincent knew that Scott's undead power was ESP. He had never understood how he knew things, he just did, so sometimes it was hard to separate what he thought should happen with what his ESP told him had happened. Usually, thought that was only a problem in times of stress. Tonight, he was in control of the situation. His human and Mindless guards were stationed around the church and along the block. Even without his ESP, Scott would have known when they arrived.

The fact that it was a "they" and not just a "she" was not what they had agreed to, but no matter. Scott assumed the young man with Sarah was an overzealous boyfriend who had bullied his way into accompanying her. He was not important. This woman Sarah, though, was interesting. Scott guessed that she was the woman who had accidentally been made into a Mind. If that was they case, she was holding up better than most involuntary Minds did. Sarah stopped to remove her headdress and gloves.

Walter didn't like this arrangement at all. They were too exposed. But, they were only here to talk, so he tried to push the nagging worry-wort out of his mind. Scott stood up and took the few steps down from the stage to greet them. He was shorter than Walter expected.

"Sarah," said Scott, "it's wonderful to meet you at last." He held out his hand and Sarah took it. Rather than shaking her hand, he bent down and kissed it lightly on the back. "And who is your companion?"

"This is my friend Walter," said Sarah. "He gave me a ride as I'm not yet used to driving with most of my head and face covered." It was a lie she and Walter had come up with on the way over. They had also agreed on a course of action and a rendezvous point if things went badly.

Scott tutted. "I think you have a lovely face and it's a shame to keep it covered so." This woman was in control of herself, but it was clear to him that she was bursting with questions. Walter was all but screaming his distrust of Scott, but he did not have to convince him to join the Pollere Exanima. Once he had convinced Sarah of her rightful place among her own kind, they could dispose of Walter. Scott turned his attention to Walter and said, "Walter, my name is Scott Knight. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

Scott held out his hand and Walter shook it after hesitating only slightly. "Well then," said Scott to Sarah, "I'll bet you have a lot of questions."

Sarah nodded and followed Scott up onto the raised stage at the front of the sanctuary. Scott had put up some lights around and the whole place smelled like wet wood and moulding plaster. He led Sarah to the chairs that would have been used by the minister and liturgist and gestured for her to sit. Walter decided to stop short of the altar and keep watch from there. He was still within earshot, but far enough away to give them the illusion of privacy. Scott sat relaxedly in the other chair and crossed his legs. With his hands resting in a loose clasp in his lap, he said, "please, ask whatever questions you wish and I will try to answer as best I can."

"Okay," said Sarah, "first, why did you choose to be a Mind?" Sarah liked Scott already. He polite and civilized and his VA record suggested that he liked to understand things and did not act simply as a reaction or because he was told to.

"Hmm," said Scott, "I knew from our phone conversation that you knew of the Pollere Exanima and the Vindex Anima, but I wasn't aware that you knew anything about me in particular." Actually, he was aware of much more than that. Scott knew that Sarah was the accidental Mind from the Vandas totem. He knew that the VA had gotten to her first, but the fact that she was here told him they did not have control over her. He considered that she might be a spy, but given her already famous reanimation, she would make a poor spy. He also suspected, but did not know for certain, that Walter worked for the VA.

Sarah looked at her hands and mumbled out an apology. "No, no," said Scott, "I'm flattered. My life and death were so dismally boring in comparison to yours that I hardly thought them noteworthy. Still, it's a fair question." Scott thought for a moment. "I guess I became a Mind so that I could see history as it happened and so that I would have as long as I wanted to study, to seek, and to explore."

As Scott had calculated, that was exactly the kind of thing that Sarah wanted to hear. It was also mostly true, but there were other reasons he had become a Mind, none so virtuous as the ones he just listed.

Sarah smiled and relaxed visibly. "That's wonderful. Do you ever have regrets, or did you leave anyone behind when you died?"

Despite himself, Scott's smile flickered. He hadn't expected that question and wasn't prepared for the sudden surge of emotion. He willed his voice to be steady. "Yes. Yes, I left my fiancee behind. I wanted to visit her and tell her I was alright, but Matthew said it would be a bad idea. So, I just watched her from a distance. I think I watched her for over a year, on and off. About a year after that she was killed in a house fire."

"That's terrible," said Sarah. She studiously avoided talking about Roger; she was there to learn about her kind and the PE, not to talk about her own experiences.

"Yes," said Scott, "it really was. Matthew was instrumental in getting me through it. He was truly a guide and mentor to me, especially in those dark days." Sarah was encouraged by this story of mutual support in the Pollere Exanima.

"As you suspected," said Sarah, "I have heard the Vindex Anima side of the story, but I want to hear the PE view as well."

"The VA are not bad people," lied Scott. "They are fighting for what they believe in, but we are not a threat to them. We are different, of course, but we often feel as uncomfortable around the living and they do around us. Surely you've felt that in your dealings with the living in the past week." Sarah nodded. "They wish us destroyed without even knowing us! Simply by existing, they feel, we threaten their way of life and wish to force our ways upon them. We do no such thing!" Scott gave a little laugh as if the whole idea was ludicrous.

He had a point, thought Sarah. The VA did hunt down and kill Minds just because they were the undead. They also claimed that these Minds were power-hungry and evil, but offered little proof. "What of the body you reanimated? Did you kill him just to inhabit his body?"

"Absolutely not!" said Scott. "Sadly, this body was one of our guides, Matthew and I, that is. He was killed by the poison of a scorpion our second day at the dig."

Walter shook his head in disgust, almost imperceptibly, that Scott could lie so easily. Sarah, on the other hand, saw it as proof that the VA side of things was not the only side, at least. She wasn't sure she believed him, but that wasn't, yet, the point of this exercise.

"So, the goal of the PE is, what, exactly?"

"To be a community of the undead, to help promote understanding between the living and the undead, and to better understand our nature and how we came to be." Scott was proudest of that explanation. Other than the first item, it couldn't be further from the truth. The PE was a community of the undead, and it was this point that he was hoping would convince Sarah to join them. She could serve the PE as a researcher and scientist without having to know the eventual goals for her work. A small part of Scott really believed that she would be happier with the PE.

Sarah paused, hoping that all of what Scott said was true, but knowing that at least some of it probably was not.

"Sarah," said Scott, leaning forward in his chair, "you belong with us. The VA can't really understand you, and they will probably never really accept you as you are. We will. We accept you as you are now and what you can become, not as a mere shadow of who you used to be. Join us, and let us put an end to the misunderstanding that has separated our two peoples for too long."

The offer was very tempting to Sarah. She had felt shunned by people in the VA, and they did talk about her as if she was no longer Sarah Kline, but some poor imitation. Sarah looked over at where Walter sat. She trusted him, even if she did not trust the VA, and he had told her of the evil things that the PE did. But she wanted to believe Scott, to believe that there was a place for her. She thought of Roger and how he had reacted to her.

Maybe she didn't belong in either group. They seemed to be caught up in a struggle that she didn't fully understand. Yes, the VA hated the undead, but as long as they left her alone, she could deal with that. And if the PE were as open minded as they claimed, they wouldn't mind if she didn't join either side. Sarah took the old man's advice and looked into her heart. She found an overwhelming desire to just be herself, without labels or stereotypes or prejudice, and without expectations for her behavior. Yes, given the choice, Sarah chose to be on her own side.

"What you say is very appealing," said Sarah honestly. "But, I think I need to go it alone for a while. Maybe the time will come when I will come back to you."

Scott felt some slight disappointment at her decision. He had read her work and was looking forward to their working relationship, if nothing else. He shrugged slightly. "Well, it's your decision. If you ever change your mind, you know how to contact me."

Sarah was standing up to leave when Scott moved suddenly, out of his chair and back flag against the wall. Walter reacted instantly to the sudden movement by dropping flat to the floor. Sarah looked Walter's direction in confusion. From the balcony overlooking the sanctuary, Sarah saw something flash and it felt like someone had poked her in the stomach with a broom handle. She looked down and saw that a bullet meant for Walter had passed right through her and still she felt no pain.

"Go!" yelled Walter from his crouched position behind the altar. "Go now!" The front of the stage seemed to come alive with waxy-skinned people as Scott stood in a sheltered corner of the stage and murmured commands seemingly to himself.

The aisles leading down to the stage were shrouded in darkness as fighters from the VA came forward to attack the Mindless at the stage. Walter felt bile rise in his throat as he pulled out his gun. He rarely carried it, for as Sarah had discovered, bullets were nothing more than an inconvenience to the undead. But it would be very effective against the humans who were now attacking them.

Sarah watched all of this, stunned. She was not accustomed to this kind of thing; the closest she had come was being in a car accident her first year in college. "Sarah! Go!" yelled Walter again. Sarah looked at him and finally got a grip on herself enough to act. But it was too late. A VA soldier was coming through a side door, trapping her in between the fight at the front of the stage and Scott in the other corner.

A fire began to burn at the front of the stage as at least two of the zombies fell and were destroyed. Scott murmured again to himself and one the VA fighters at the front screamed in pain as a sniper shot ripped through his right shoulder. Walter shot at the fights in front of him, trying very hard just to wound them enough to get away.

Walter hadn't expected this. He suspected that Scott Knight might have positioned his men around the building in case of an ambush, or to take out Walter and Sarah if they proved to be a threat. He also knew that the VA would have sent out people looking for Sarah and him, but he never expected them to try and take them here with so many undead around. Maybe they wanted to get two-for-one: retrieve Walter and Sarah and destroy Scott Knight.

Sarah turned back to the altar to get away from the VA soldier behind her. Scott finally turned his eyes on Sarah. "How dare you turn on your own kind, Sarah? I trusted you."

She shook her head vehemently. "It wasn't me, Scott! It wasn't me-" The soldier overtook her and tackled her to the ground. Walter turned at the commotion and joined the pile, trying to pull the VA fighter off of Sarah.

Scott's Mindless soldiers were not fairing well, but they managed to knock another of the VA men unconscious. Scott ordered his human guards to prepare his way out and he backed slowly towards the side door nearest him.

The VA fighter and Walter were still fighting as Sarah was pushed out of the way. As she looked up, she saw a VA soldier enter through the side door behind Scott with his gun drawn and aimed at Scott's head. In a panic, she shouted "no!" and thrust her hand out towards the soldier. In that instant, he flew backwards, untouched, and cracked his head against the wall.

Scott jumped and turned towards the door in time to see the soldier fall. He looked incredulously at Sarah then made his escape. Sarah looked down at her hand as though it might bite her. Behind her, the last of the Mindless fell.

The VA soldier was now on top of Walter, pulling back to punch and Sarah did it again, this time willingly. She thrust forward her hand, concentrating on stopping the soldier's motion. He flew backwards off of Walter and tumbled to a stop just before three pairs of hands grabbed Sarah. She yelped in surprise as the men fell on top of her. Emboldened by her success at helping Walter, she struggled to get an arm free.

Then the first VA soldier she hit knocked Walter back to the ground and held a gun to the back of his head. "Stop fighting or I will kill him." She stopped fighting as resentment rose in her that they would use such a dirty tactic.

One of the men holding her let go to handcuff Walter's hands behind him. The hoisted him to his feet and went to check on the second man Sarah had knocked backwards. "Uuungh... what hit me," he groaned. One of them pointed to Sarah. "She did." Sarah didn't understand how she had done it any better than anyone else. This must be the power that the mesh gave her.

The two men holding Sarah handcuffed her hands behind her. "I know that you can break free with little long term effect," said one of them, "but don't. Our job is to take you back alive, but we will kill you before we'd let you go free. And if you even try to escape, we kill Walter."

Sarah's nostrils flared with anger. She looked over at Walter, who would not meet her eyes, and nodded.

The VA soldiers moved with efficiency now that Sarah's compliance was assured by the gun still aimed at Walter's head. They gave first aid to the man who had been shot by the sniper. They roused the man who had fallen on the steps and he clutched at his leg, apparently hit by one of Walter's bullets. The corpses of the Mindless still burned and sirens could be heard in the distance. The men helped the wounded to the van they came in and marched Sarah and Walter out behind them.

It was a long ride home from the city to VA headquarters. The first thirty minutes had been torture for Walter. The two wounded men, one of whom Walter had shot, had grunted painfully with every corner the van took. Mercifully, their pain killers took hold and they were not awake for much of the rest of the journey. Walter was still conflicted, which didn't help his state of mind much. On the one hand, he was protecting Sarah, a person caught between two warring factions against her will. On the other, he had sworn to serve the VA and believed in their fight. In this instance he thought they were wrong, but he had made promises and willingly broken them.

All for the sake of one woman. Was she really that important? Was it really just that Walter felt sorry for her, as a victim? Or was there more? Walter pressed his eyes shut and ground his teeth against this train of thought. She was not his wife and protecting Sarah would not bring his wife back to him. But, she was an unwilling participant in all of this. And his job was to protect the innocent, living and dead, from the evil of the Pollere Exanima. If that meant going against the orders of his VA superiors, so be it. Full of fresh resolve, Walter knew it would fade and he would have this same mental conversation again and again.

Sarah's anger from the fight had faded, but in its place a smoldering rage was building. Why was the VA so insistent on having her join them? They had been fighting the PE long before she showed up and they could go on doing so without her. She had not chosen this and she wished the VA no harm, but it was still her life to lead. It was her choice to leave the VA and make it on her own, but they weren't satisfied with that. She just wanted them to leave her alone. But each bump in the road, felt through her bound hands, made her certain that she would have to fight just to get that much.

One of the soldiers in the back had been studying Sarah for some time. "Why did you do it?" he asked finally.

"Do what?" said Sarah.

"Why did you protect Scott Knight?"

Sarah scowled at him. "Because you were going to kill him," she said.

"Yes," said another man, "because that's what we do."

"Well, there you are then," said Sarah, recognizing impasse when she saw it.

The first man frowned. "But, he's evil. He killed his host body in cold blood."

"Says you," said Sarah. "He may or may not have, I don't know. If he did, then I would agree with you, but I have only your word for that since Scott denied it."

"You can't trust him."

"I can't trust you either, it appears. You weren't at the dig with him and Matthew Vincent and you don't know what happened. Scott Knight was nothing but polite to me."

"How can you take his side?"

Sarah made a frustrated noise. "I'm not taking anybody's side just yet. I don't trust any of you. Everyone I've met since this whole thing started, with the exception of Walter, has had some ulterior motive and personal agenda. So, just forget it. I'm not taking sides in this fight."

"I told you," said the driver. "I told you they were all alike."

Sarah swallowed down the angry response she was forming and let them make all the irrational conclusions they wanted to. Her chance to escape would present itself eventually. And, she could out wait them if she had to.

Dr. Karen Vandas sat still in shock at what she had just been told. Matthew Vincent waited patiently for her to process it all. After all these years of searching, to finally be told that she was wrong about all of the important aspects of the power she sought came as quite a blow to Karen's ego. Still, she was right that the totem and amulet held power over the dead. But, she wasn't sure she was ready to give up her body to become the undead herself. Oh, she wanted the power, but she had quite a lot of power as herself. And being undead meant giving up some of her favorite human habits like eating, drinking wine, and having sex.

"Well," she said finally, "that's quite a trade off."

"It is," agreed Matthew, "but I believe it was worth it. Observe." Matthew too out a knife drove it completely through his forearm. Karen gasped and recoiled in horror, but to her surprise, no blood followed. Matthew Vincent was inhabiting the reanimated remains of Amenhotep III, so his skin and eyes looked as Sarah's did.

"Is- is that because you're a mummy?" asked Karen. "No blood, I mean."

"No, no," said Matthew. "All undead have this capacity." As he spoke, the gash in his arm seemed to move at the edges. "In an hour, this will be completely healed."

"Does it hurt?" asked Karen incredulously.

"Not at all. I can tell that my body has been injured, but there is no pain. I can re-grow almost all of my body so long as my head and torso stay connected."

Karen nodded. "Because otherwise the 'mesh' is damaged."

"Indeed," said Matthew. He paused for a moment. "I find it difficult to believe that you have searched for so long to find the power over death and now you will not take the final step. What could be so powerful that holds you in the world of the living?"

Karen shifted in her folding camp chair. Matthew Vincent was currently excavating the rest of the temple that Donovan and Wilkins had found. They were sitting in a small chamber just beyond the main temple that Matthew had set up as his office. It probably served as a dressing room of sorts for the one using the temple.

"Well," said Karen, "I'm kind of attached to the sensations that my living body can get that a dead one cannot. You have demonstrated that the unpleasant sensations are almost entirely eliminated, but there are lots of other pleasant sensations that I would also be missing."

Matthew nodded. "True."

"Also," said Karen, "I'm rather fond of my own appearance."

"Oh, right," said Matthew. "No, no, you won't look like me, unless you take the body of a mummy. We don't have any mummies available at the moment so we would have to procure a female body for your use. You would look like her, the woman we select, with slightly waxy-looking skin. That's all."

"Then why did you choose a mummy for a body?"

"Ah, yes, well, you remember how I told you that the mesh sometimes gives extra powers to Minds, but not always? Well, the theory is that the mesh merely accesses whatever latent powers were present in the body before death. So, for example, if a person had even the slightest gift of precognition in life, a Mind in that body would have full-blown ESP, as happened to my assistant, Scott Knight. Yes, some of the powers are quite extraordinary. The theory also goes that the most powerful of ancient Egypt, being amongst those who originally discovered the power over death, would have been among the most gifted in extra-human powers when alive."

"But if this power existed when they were alive, why didn't they become Minds?"

Matthew looked at her. "Who said they didn't? You can't become a Mind in your own body, so they would have had to give up whatever power they had in exchange for hopefully getting more power as a Mind. Anyway, that's neither here nor there since we haven't a mummy at our disposal."

"Do you have an extra power?" asked Karen.

"Oh, yes," said Matthew and his eyes twinkled. "Bit chilly in here isn't it?" he asked rhetorically as fire erupted from his fingers and lit a torch hanging from the wall.

Karen pulled back from the flame and from Matthew. "There," said Matthew, "you see?" He chuckled to himself at Karen's obvious surprise. "Yes, that never gets old."

This was amazing. All this time Karen thought she would just control death, but the prospect of a power such as this as well as virtual immortality was too good to be true. She cackled internally as she thought about the personal power she could wield. And, she wouldn't have to deal with people begging her to raise their dead loved ones and pets from the dead. No, she could raise and command the dead, taking as much power for herself as she wanted. She felt like giggling but supressed it.

"That's very interesting," said Karen. "I think I'd like join you."

The small, dry, window-less room in the cellar of the VA headquarters had only a cot in it. It looked like racks of wine or stacks of cheeses had been the previous occupants of the room given the patterns of dust on the floor. Well, it was at least reassuring to know that holding people prisoner was standard operating procedure for the VA. Or, thought Sarah, perhaps they just kill every undead they meet so they've never had a reason for a cell.

After arriving, she and Walter had been split up. She assumed that they were interrogating him for his motives. While she cared for Walter and owed him more than she could ever repay, he really had screwed himself by disobeying orders to come after her. So now, not only was he in trouble for not going to Egypt as ordered, but he had been caught helping Sarah to meet with the PE. Things were not going to be easy for him.

Sarah's motives were now also suspect, but she wasn't sure that the VA directors had ever believed her story that becoming a Mind was not her idea. Especially with Thomas Hyde the "scientist" they had studying undead psychology. He was the kind of knee-jerk reactionary that made Sarah question the integrity of scientific research. He would evaluate the evidence from his skewed point of view and present the results as fact. Part of her thought he should become a Mind himself, just to get a first-hand look at how little one's personality changed.

The door opened and a guard with a very sharp machete in his hand stood in the doorway. "Come with me," he said and Sarah obeyed. He took hold of her upper arm and guided them back upstairs toward the directors' conference room. They passed another guard taking Walter back the direction they had just come from. He would not meet her eyes, and had a swollen lip and a black eye forming. Sarah felt her anger rise. Someone would pay for that.

The guard led her into the conference room and pushed her down into an empty chair at the foot of the table. He stood behind her and to one side, within machete range, but, hopefully, at an angle that would make Sarah's attack obvious before it landed. The directors looked haggard and Sarah was happy to see it, both because they had made the last twelve hours of her life hell, and because she didn't need the sleep that they did and felt alert.

"Sarah," began James Finnagan, but Sarah cut him off.

"Why did you come after me? I thought it was my choice whether or not to join you."

"We had only your safety in mind," lied Dr. Francine Scales, the medical doctor for the VA.

"Then why did you shoot me?" asked Sarah showing them the hole in her sweater where the bullet had passed through.

"That bullet was intended for Walter Bane," said Michael Walker. "Scott Knight's sudden movement tipped him off."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?!" yelled Sarah. "Knowing that you were trying to kill Walter? What about his safety? Was that in your mind, too?"

"Walter was expendable," said James.

"Expendable?!" Sarah stood up to argue but stopped when she felt one hand grab her hair and cold steel against her throat.

James smiled. "Please sit down, Sarah. We have much we want to know."

Sarah grimaced and said, "yeah, I'll bet you do." She sat down and the guard retook his place. "Fine. Ask away," said Sarah listlessly.

Five and a half hours later, the sun was beginning to set and the directors sill were not satisfied. "How many times must I tell you? I asked about the PE but declined to join. I decided not to join either one of you because your quarrel seems to be with each other and I have no stake in the outcome."

The directors looked dead tired, having been awake for thirty-some hours. James Finnagan looked down the table over his clasped hands at her. "You have as much stake in this fight as we do. We believe that you are not evil at heart." Sarah gave them a small, sarcastic thank-you nod. "You say you want to live free, and that is what we're fighting for."

"No, you're not," said Sarah, with five hours less venom than originally had. "You're fighting against the undead so that the living can live free. In the end maybe you'll decide that you can't live free with me around and hunt me down, too."

"Join us," said Michael Walker.

"No," said Sarah.

"Alright, that's enough." James Finnagan stood and approached Sarah where she sat. "You will join us in our fight, or you will die. The Vindex Anima have been fighting the undead for centuries and we are very patient." James motioned to the guard who grabbed Sarah's upper arm and pulled her to her feet towards the door. Once they were gone, Michael Walker was the first to speak.

"James, this is not a good idea."

He held up his hand. "I know what you're going to say, Michael."

"You cannot coerce someone into fighting for you," Michael said. "They are extremely unreliable and often defect to the enemy, just to spite you, no matter what their original beliefs."

"I said I know!" yelled James. The table was very still and James pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright, keep on them. I believe Walter was telling the truth about wanting to protect her. Maybe the feeling goes both ways. If she doesn't agree to help us after a week, use Walter against her."

"James, no!" shouted Michael. "If you start down this path, you're no better than the PE."

"DO IT!" bellowed James. "I will not have that powerful monster roaming free! She will do our bidding, or she will do no one's."

"Her name is Sarah Kline and she is not a monster," said Michael.

"Was," breathed James around clenched teeth. "Her name was Sarah Kline before she became that thing. You go stab her in the chest where her heart should be and then you tell me she's not a monster."

Michael held James' gaze but said nothing. "Now get to work."

Karen regained consciousness near the completion of the reanimation. The body they had found for her was a pretty one, a dark haired, buxom beauty from Cairo. She had been a palm reader and fortune teller just yesterday, but she did not see her own future coming to so sudden an end. Karen watched the woman die with a hunger in her eyes that startled even Matthew Vincent. Matthew craved power and control, like most Minds, but he never really liked killing people to get the bodies they required. He had helped Scott Knight do it, but he was a good friend. This woman seemed to enjoy killing the woman as much as she enjoyed the prospect of immortality. Matthew had the shadow of doubt cross his mind as to whether it was a good idea to make this woman a Mind.

But it was too late now. He could behead here while she was still getting her bearings, but he was probably just overreacting. It had been over a hundred years since he last killed a living person. And this was a magnificent body. Even the waxy skin could not detract from its beauty.

"How do you feel?" asked Matthew. They were in the temple with Karen, in her new body, laying on the altar. Just after the transference, Matthew had her dead body removed and destroyed. He considered making it a Mindless, but even if Karen could handle it, he wasn't sure he could.

"Confused," said Karen. Her voice sounded sultry and strange to her which only increased her confusion.

"It will pass," said Matthew. "Rest here for as long as you need. I'll be excavating the back passage. When you're ready I can use your help. How lucky that you are an archeologist! This should go much more smoothly now."

Walter held his head in his hands. For three days they had asked him the same questions and he had given the same answers. He was on the verge of making something up just to give them new questions to ask. He had not seen Sarah in those three days. He wondered how they planned to convince her to join them when she was all but immune to physical pain.

"Why did you disobey orders?" began the interrogator again. Walter sat in a lone chair in an otherwise empty room as the interrogator, Buddy, Walter had named him, paced back and forth behind him. Walter did not know it, but this time, he was being video taped.

"I wanted to make sure that Sarah was safe," said Walter.

"Why was that important? A team had already been sent to retrieve her."

"It was and is important that Sarah is free to make up her own mind."

"Wrong!" said Buddy. "Why is it important that Sarah joins the Vindex Anima?"

"It's not," said Walter, dispiritedly. He knew what came next, but it was never pleasant. An electric shock coursed through Walter.

"Wrong! Why did you betray your oath, the VA, and all living beings by defending the zombies Sarah and Scott Knight?"

"I was only defending Sarah because you have no right to force her to serve the VA."

"Wrong!" Another shock.

The video went on like that for over an hour. When Walter's face showed real pain and glistened with sweat, Sarah could watch no more. "Turn it off, turn it off!" She clamped her eyes shut and turned away.

"You can stop his pain, Sarah," said Buddy. "All you have to do is agree to serve the VA and do as you are told."

All of her being wanted to hurt Buddy very badly. She wanted to knock him backwards and wring his neck with her bare hands. "I hate you!" she screamed. "All of you!"

"You can hate us all you want, Sarah, you just have to agree to help us. Agree to join the VA fight against the undead and we'll stop hurting Walter."

"You bastards," sobbed Sarah dryly. "You're worse than those you hunt."

Buddy turned to start the video again. "Wait," said Sarah. "I- Can I please see Walter? Just for a few minutes?" Putting them together, however briefly, might strengthen their resolve to defy the VA. On the other hand, seeing Walter just after interrogation might finally convince her, especially given how she'd reacted to just the video.

"No," said Buddy. He started the video again and left the room.

Karen Vandas was as good as her published works suggested, thought Matthew. They had been working together on clearing and deciphering a small chamber behind the altar. The glyphs were unusual at best, but Karen was confident.

"You see this, here?" she asked, pointing to one line of glyphs. Matthew grunted. "This refers to power, but not as in power of the gods, power over death, that kind of thing. No, it's talking about physical power, like light or fire or lightening."

Even after almost a week, Matthew had not gotten used to Karen in her new body. It was sumptuous to the point of distraction, even to an old man like Matthew. He laughed mentally at the thought. Matthew Vincent had been nearly sixty when he took over Amenhotep III's mummified body. He still thought of himself as an old man even thought Amenhotep III was probably no more than thirty when he died.

"Power, you say?" said Matthew. "Power for what, exactly? The altar?"

"It's not very clear," said Karen. "It speaks of power, and of a gathering of people." She paused. "You said the altar amplifies the powers of the undead, like the amulets, but much more so. Is it possible that this gathering of people were the targets of the magic?"

"What, like to make Mindless servants en masse?"

"Yes, that's what I was thinking," said Karen, "but as soon as I said it I thought it was wrong. Elsewhere it talks about the uses of the altar. This entire wall describes powering the altar, not its effects. This may sound crazy, but lately crazy doesn't sound so crazy: what if the gathering of people was the power source for the altar?"

Matthew looked at her incredulously.

"Sort of like, sucking out their Ka or their life energy to power the altar. Look it talks about strife and struggle here with the people at the gathering. Maybe they used slaves and prisoners of war as the power source."

"It's plausible," said Matthew. "We know that the amulet has some of its own power, but does draw power from the environment around it, including the wearer, during use. If that's the case, that's not a very convenient power source for our purposes. We can get hundreds of living beings here once, maybe a few times, before anyone gets suspicious, but eventually they will."

Karen stopped reading the glyphs on the wall to rack her brain. "Oh, wait a minute. I'm remembering... something... hold on. There was a tomb, way up river, almost at the first cataracts, that also talked about power like this. It's where I first read about the totem. I wonder if... Here, help me clear this bit of wall here."

"Alright," said Matthew moving rocks and sand away from the wall. "What are we looking for?"

"Coptic text," said Karen.

"Why? This is a temple from the third dynasty, maybe earlier. That was way before the coptic script came into use."

"Just... trust my hunch on this one," said Karen. They cleared away almost three more feet of wall before Karen laughed with success. "See? There. Oh, my coptic is so rusty."

Two days later, they had made out enough of the text to minimally support Karen's theories on the power source for the altar. Matthew finally sat back in defeat. "Okay," he said, "you may be right, but we can't continue like this. We're going to need someone who is more fluent in ancient coptic to help us read and understand this."

Karen's eyes lit up. "I know just the person," she said. And, she thought, it will really stick in Sarah's craw to have Roger Simms helping me against her and her silly 'Vindex Anima'. This time, Karen cackled aloud.

The house looked like any other on the street, which was kind of the point. Roger was parked half a block away from the house, watching it, trying to screw up the courage to go ring the doorbell. He had made it this far three times before and each time he decided he wasn't ready. Ready for what he still wasn't sure. Ready to believe that Sarah was alive, even if in some alternate form? Ready to believe that the undead walked among them, even now? Ready to face his deepest hopes and dreams where Sarah was concerned? Even now, those scared him the most. He loved Sarah and she loved him, but he knew his love went beyond close friends. He did not know how she felt about it. It would crush him to find out that she had no interest in him beyond lunch and conversation. But, would it be more or less of an emotional burden to never try. He thought he had lost the chance with Sarah when she died. Now he'd been given another chance to face that scary question again.

There were lights on in the house, but they were slowly going out as someone made the house dark and secure for the night. Roger screwed up his courage and opened his car door. Then he shut it and waited.

"Oh, fuck it," he said, getting out of his car. He walked up the steps and rang the front doorbell. He waited for what seemed like forever and was about to give up when a thin woman with a hawk-nose answered the door.

"Yes?" she asked through the small door opening.

Roger stumbled over his words, trying to say it all, while being concise. "I'm here- you see a friend- died- well, not really, so she says- and she left this address, and- do you know Sarah Kline?"

At first, the woman didn't respond. Erin was certain that this was Roger, the man who was a friend of Sarah's that Walter was keeping an eye on for her. But, she didn't know that Sarah had given him the address. She had spent too much time being cautious not to consider him a possible threat. Still, he was harmless, according to all the VA knew about him. And, according to what she knew, the VA directors know had Sarah back with them. Perhaps he could be used as leverage.

"Uh... yes, yes I do," said Erin, after a moment. "Won't you come in?"

Roger was dumbstruck. He expected the woman to tell him to go away and be angry for coming at this late hour. He wasn't prepared for this, not really. "Uh... yes. Thank you."

Erin showed Roger to a chair and offered him something to drink, which he declined. "I must admit," said Erin, "that you've taken me by surprise. I wasn't aware that Sarah had given this address to anyone."

"Oh, I hope she's not in trouble for that," said Roger and immediately thought it was a stupid thing to say. "What I mean is, Sarah came to me, but I didn't recognize her, so she gave me this address and told me to come here if I wanted to get in touch with her again."

"Indeed," said Erin. "Did she tell you anything else?"

"Not really," said Roger. "I wasn't much in the mood to listen at the time. In fact, I think I threatened to call the police." He paused. "It didn't look anything like her... but she... knew things that no one else would know."

Erin smiled. She was not sure how to handle this situation. Nothing like it had ever come up. Of course, a potentially VA sympathetic Mind had never occurred before, either. The directors had given her explicit directions on what to do if she learned anything new about where Sarah was, but that was before she was found. Roger wasn't exactly information about Sarah, but he knew a little bit about the VA and a lot about Sarah. "I need to make a phone call. Can you wait here for just a few minutes?"

"Sure," said Roger. He didn't know what this place was or what Sarah was involved in, but the fact that this woman knew Sarah was proof enough for him that she was alive. He both dreaded and anticipated seeing her again. What would he say?

Erin left Roger in the living room and hurried down to the secret room in the basement. The heavy-set man in suspenders was there. "Ralph, I need to talk to the VA directors immediately. I have some information for them."

Ralph nodded and presented her with the phone when the secure connection was established. His heart was pounding. For months he had waited for the right time to act. If he had been at the house when Sarah arrived, it would have been then, but this would do in its place. Matthew Vincent would surely be pleased with getting Roger Simms so soon after they had requested him.

Erin spoke into the phone at first, then did a lot of listening. Finally she said, "yes, I understand. Vindex Anima!" She handed the phone back to Ralph and said, "I'm going to need a car. I'll be gone for a couple of days."

"Okay," said Ralph, "I can do that." Erin nodded and went back upstairs. Instead of readying a car for Erin, Ralph got a gun out of a hidden compartment in his shoe. It was only a single shot, but he would only need one. He climbed the stairs and could hear Roger and Erin talking in the living room where she was explaining to Roger what would happen next.

"First," said Erin, "the directors would like to meet you. Then, you can see Sarah. The house where she's staying is quite a drive from here and I can answer any questions you have along the way."

Ralph entered the room at Erin's back and pressed the tiny muzzle against the base of Erin's head. "No," said Ralph, "I'm afraid that's one trip you won't be making."

Erin gasped but was scared still. "Ralph," she said in a shaky voice. "Ralph, what are you doing?"

He laughed an insane little laugh. "Doing? Ha! I'm saving my son's life, that's what I'm doing."

Roger was stunned by all of this and didn't move in his chair. What has happened to Sarah that these are the people protecting her?

"What are you talking about, Ralph? Just put the gun down and let's talk about this," said Erin, trying to turn around.

"Stay where you are and don't move," said Ralph viciously. "I have to do this. I have to save him. He'll die, don't you understand that? My son will die if I don't do this."

Erin's mind was racing, trying to remember anything Ralph had told her about his son. He was eleven... and sick... lukemia maybe? "Ralph, how will this help your son?"

Ralph was crying openly now. "They said... they said they'd make him a Mind if I... helped them."

"Who, Ralph?" As soon as she asked, Erin knew who. The only ones capable and willing of making living people into the undead were the Pollere Exanima. "Oh, Ralph, no! No, no! You should have-"

"What?!" he screamed. "I should have done what? I can't save him, the VA can't save him, no one can! Except the PE. They have the means..."

"But Ralph! It's what you've been fighting against for ten years. You can't trust them now, not after all you've seen."

Ralph gave a desperate laugh. "Ha! It doesn't matter now. What's done is done. I made a promise and they made a promise. Now, I will save my son's life... something no one else could do."

Erin was really frightened now. He was too far gone to be reasoned with. In this state, he might actually go through with this.

Ralph closed his eyes. "Good bye, Erin," he said and pulled the tiny trigger. A small spray of red formed a halo around Erin's head as Roger watched in horrified slow motion. Then her lifeless body dropped unceremoniously to the floor. Roger watched her fall and then looked up to Ralph's face, streaked with tears, but a mad grimace froze his lips in place. Roger had never been more terrified in his life.

Always a detail-oriented man, Ralph had everything ready for his escape with his human cargo intended for Matthew Vincent. It was a good thing, for him, because his mind was too panicked and confused to make plans or organize at the moment. Roger went where Ralph directed without question. He felt cold and was starting to go into shock. It was a blessing when Ralph shot him with a tranquilizer dart.

For the second time in as many weeks, James Finnagan was in a fit of rage. Not only had Erin been killed by forces unknown, but Roger had gone missing as well. He was the best chance at leverage against Sarah they had had since Walter.

"It is possible," said Michael, "that Roger went willingly with his abductors." He held up his hand to head off James' outburst. "I don't mean to say he knew what he was getting into, but he might have been cowed into going if he saw Erin's murder."

"It's also possible," said Thomas Hyde, "that he saw more benefit in what the PE had to offer."

Michael shook his head. "That would be completely out of character for what we know of Roger."

"Though," countered Thomas, "if they promised to reunite him with Sarah, he might have gone along with them as easily as he was willing to go along with Erin."

James let them argue. He was convinced that the PE had taken him, by force, for a reason. For himself, he believed that reason had to do with Sarah, but he was willing to grant that it was just coincidence. Whatever the reason, James was losing patience with this entire affair. He slammed his fist down on the table, interrupting Thomas and Michael's argument.

"Enough! You," James said to the guard, "bring that undead bitch up here, now!"

Michael sat up in his chair. "James, what are you doing?"

"Finishing this," was all he would say.

The guard was hauling Sarah roughly in tow amidst her protests. He pushed her down into the chair at the foot of the table and James motioned for her arms to be tied to the chair. He was about to provoke her and didn't want to experience her "force push" or telekinetic power first hand.

"What are you doing? Leave me alone!" Sarah was scared for the first time in a while. She had been in anguish for a week, but she now believed herself too important to the VA for them to kill. This was new however, and new with these people was scary. "What do you want from me? My answer remains the same!"

James pulled his hand back and yelled "silence!" at the same time as his hand smacked across Sarah's face. She made a small sound in surprise rather than in pain. He put his hands on the arms of the chair and looked into her white-on-white eyes from only inches away. "Tell me why Roger Simms has joined the PE."

Sarah boggled at him and his complete non-sequitar. She hadn't even given serious thought to Roger since he sent her away two weeks ago. "W-What?" she stammered. "No, he wouldn't. What- Roger?"

James stepped away to pace. "Yes, Roger! Roger Simms, your friend and colleague. You left him the address of the safe house in the city."

"Yes, I did. I told him to go there if he ever wanted to get in touch with me again."

"First," said James with exaggerated patience, "that was incredibly stupid of you! That house's location was a carefully guarded secret and you just trot it out when it's convenient for you."

Sarah started to argue, but James interrupted her. "Second, your little lunch buddy has gone missing from that house, along with one of our operatives, after killing the head of the house."

Sarah gasped. "Erin? Someone killed Erin?"

Michael was impressed that she remembered the name. "We assume it was Erin that was killed because of the size and weight of the footprints that dragged the body out to the car."

Sarah frowned and looked like she wanted to cry. "Erin dead, Roger missing... and Ralph? Oh no," she said, guessing what they were going to say. "No, no, no... this is too much. Why?"

"That's what you need to tell us!" shouted James and made many in the room jump, not just Sarah. "Why would a ten year VA veteran and your work friend kill Erin and go join the PE?"

"They wouldn't!" Sarah shouted back. "And how do you know that they've joined the PE?"

Michael spoke again. "We got a message from one of our spies in Cairo who said Ralph and Roger had been seen getting into a van with Matthew Vincent."

"No..." Sarah shook her head. "I can't believe it. Roger would never do this. There must be another explanation."

James turned to face Sarah, rage evident on his face. "You will help us. You will help us find and destroy Matthew Vincent. And you'll do it because it's the only way to save Roger Simms."

Sarah started to protest, mostly out of habit. She really did want to save Roger from the PE, but not on James Finnagan's terms. "No, I won't! What can I do that your trained soldiers cannot?"

James grabbed the machete from the guard's hand and thrust it through Sarah's chest and into the chair behind her. She winced a little at the sensation and then looked down at the blade handle protruding from her chest.

"What can you do?" asked James rhetorically. "That."

Unsurprisingly, Roger Simms did not recognize Karen Vandas. On the journey to Egypt, Ralph had told Roger all about the undead and the VA versus PE holy war. So, being introduced to a woman he didn't recognize as a colleague he had worked with for ten years didn't shock him, just made him extremely uneasy. Roger remembered what Sarah had said about her stealing artifacts and lying to her. Not only had she been right, but Roger trusted Sarah far more than he could ever trust Karen. So, if Sarah had chosen to go with the Vindex Anima, she must have had a good reason.

Besides, Roger wasn't sure he could ever trust the motives of a group that killed in cold blood, no matter their stated reasons. The image of Erin's death was burned into his mind moreso even than Sarah's death because of its graphic nature. Roger physically shuddered at the thought. And Roger had never really like Dr. Vandas anyway, no matter what he thought of her research. Thus, their first meeting in over two weeks was less than warm.

They were standing in the main chamber of the temple, Ralph, Roger, Karen, and several undead guards. Karen had kept the clothes of her new body rather than try to fit her into Karen's old clothes. They were entirely impractical for archeology, but they gave stunning definition to her breasts. Roger theorized that it was that reason Karen had kept the clothes, as her living body had been under-endowed in that department.

"Roger! Good, good," said Karen in her sultry new voice. "So good to see you again."

Roger grunted.

"I believe Ralph told you that we have need of your Coptic skills." Karen led Roger back towards the altar.

"Yes," said Roger.

To Ralph, Karen said, "I believe Matthew is looking for you. You'll find him outside by the camp tents." Ralph nodded and hurried off to get his reward for his son.

"The text is quite complete, but of an unusual dialect," said Karen. "I hope you can translate it without references, as it will speed things up. If not, we can send for whatever book or papers you require."

Roger smirked. His fear had left him on the journey. He had no doubt that the PE would kill him once he had served his purpose. So, he had no intention of fulfilling his purpose. "How very generous of you. Tell me, do you have a tent with bars on it for me?"

"No, no," said Karen. "You can have my tent as I hardly require sleep anymore."

Roger scowled at her, but she was ducking into the small chamber behind the altar and didn't see it. Just before ducking in behind her, Roger thought he heard a strangled cry from outside somewhere. Who knows, thought Roger, maybe that's how the undead laugh.

Inside the chamber describing the power source, Karen was waiting, brushing bits of sand from the carvings. She was right about the script being obscure. And it looked like it had been added as an addendum to the original inscription, not carved over top of the original.

Roger frowned. "That's unusual," he said. "The Coptic is written to the side, here, like a footnote, or an update. I expected this to be a case of defacement of the original inscriptions."

"That's exactly what I thought," said Karen. "It's as if they had new information to add, eight hundred years later, rather than trying to replace the old information."

"And, this text reads more like an instruction manual than any rites of passage or funerary text. Strange. What was this temple used for?" asked Roger.

Karen studied him for a moment. The question seemed to slick to her to just be random problem solving. Why did it matter what the temple was for? The instructions were the same, regardless. "Uh, we think it was used to create Minds, like me."

Roger nodded, not really listening to her response. "So, the process..." His mind went unbidden to the night he had seen Sarah unwittingly perform the ceremony and was hit with a crashing wave of sadness. "Uh, the process involves the totem, the amulet, and the body. The amulet glows under its own power, and I don't believe the totem has its own power." Karen shook her head. "So this text that speaks of a power source must be like an amulet?" The last part came out as a question because as he said it, Roger didn't believe it.

"Hmmm," said Karen. "I believe it's a power source they're referring to, you're right. Did you read this part over here? This describes the power as used in the Old Kingdom. Is the Coptic text similar, as just a translation of the old power source?"

Roger studied the old text. "I am so rusty with this. Do you have a translation?" Karen handed him a notebook.

For the next several hours, Roger translated the text on the wall, leaving out the crucial details like actual location of the power source, while describing the rest as best he could. He was convinced that the temple was used for something far more insidious than just creating Minds. It was too big. And frankly, the altar didn't look right for Old Kingdom. Maybe all of this was so strange that no one else had noticed it. Or, maybe those observations were deliberately struck from the records before Dr. Donovan's notes made it back to the States.

Roger hoped with all his might that Sarah and her new friends would get word of his kidnap and come for him. But, it was a long shot. Despair threatened to overtake him, but he focused on making the phony parts of his translation sound reasonable. "I think I need to take a break," said Roger. "All of these subtle variations of meaning are going to drive me mad."

"Alright, Matthew should be up at the camp tents," said Karen. She didn't have to be too concerned about him running off because they were surrounded by featureless desert for at least a hundred of miles. Roger made his way back out into the main temple area and took a better look at the altar. It looked... incomplete... on the back side. This had to be for more than just reanimations, but what? Roger sighed and let his shoulders slouch. This was too much: zombies, altars, his former colleague looking like a prostitute, underground societies.

Roger sat down on the steps beside the altar with his head in hands. He was feeling overwhelmed and sorry for himself when a low hum started emanating from the altar next to him. It was barely audible, and Roger felt it rather than heard it. He moved around to the back of the altar and saw a small glowing red light from inside the altar. The base of the altar had slats on the back, which Roger just assumed were decorative, but when he got closer to look at the red light, it appeared that something was supposed to fill the holes between the slats. There were scuff marks on the bottoms of the openings that looked like something very heavy had been removed.

Suddenly, some of what Roger had read in the Coptic text started to make sense. The old text only talked about a power source, but the later text referred to both a power source and a power... something... that Roger couldn't translate. It was clearly different from the power source, which is what made it so confusing. Karen had only told him to be thinking about a power source. The red light was jarring something in Roger's memory, but he couldn't quite remember what.

Roger stood up and circled the altar, looking at it from all angles. He thought of reanimation and- "Of course!" Roger said aloud. The amulet that had been on Isis had glowed this same red. And the red crystal had glowed under its own power. Roger went around to the back of the altar again. There was one piece of the red crystal down underneath the altar and it's what was glowing red. The crystals were the power source they were looking for. But what about the other word Roger couldn't translate?

And what should he tell Karen. If he told her they were looking for giant red rectangular crystals that glowed under their own power, what would she say? Maybe she knew where those were and then she'd have her power source. Or, she would think he was way off base and dismiss his other translations as well. After a few minutes of indecision, Roger decided to ask Karen if she had any ideas for the translation of the missing word. Hopefully, that word alone would not be enlightening to her.

Roger went back into the small chamber where Karen was still going over Roger's notes. "Karen, do you know what this means?" asked Roger, pointing to a few of the symbols on the wall.

"Hmmm," said Karen, turning to look where Roger pointed. She traced the symbols with her fingers. "Power... something. Power... getting smaller, getting more concentrated..."

"Focus? Something to focus power?"

"That could be," said Karen, nodding. "Well, your short break reminded me that I haven't slept in over three days, so I'm about due for a nap. Wake me if you discover anything interesting." Karen handed Roger's notes back to him and left the temple.

Focusing power... and an energy source? If the Minds had access to crystals the size that would fit in the altar, who knows how that would affect their power. If they were amplifiers for power, like Karen theorized, then the force and distance at which a Mind's power operated would be enormously enhanced. That didn't sound like a good situation to Roger, but he was sure it would sound delightful to Karen Vandas and Matthew Vincent.

Roger woke when the sun was already high in the sky. From outside his tent, he could hear Karen talking to someone whose voice he didn't recognize. They were speaking urgently, but more excited than panicked, so Roger lay in his sleeping bag and pretended to sleep a bit longer. Finally, the voices stopped and Karen stuck her head inside the tent.

"Roger? Are you awake?"

"Of course he's awake," said Scott Knight, pushing back the tent flap to let the sunlight in. Roger squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden light and cursed. "As I said," Scott laughed, "awake."

Karen came in and sat down opposite Roger. "Roger, last night while I was sleeping, I remembered something I read a long time ago on my first dig in this area."

Roger grunted and rolled to face away from Karen. She sighed then continued on as if Roger was listening. "At that site, there was talk of a power source, but I didn't recognize it for what it was. I just thought in terms of the god-king being very powerful and the source of the power of all Egypt, and other metaphorical power. But, that's where I found the original tablet that sent me searching for the reanimation totem and amulet."

Scott grew tired of Karen's long-winded explanation. "We know where the power source is," he said.

"What?" said Roger and rolled to face Scott. "How?"

"It's at the site of my original dig, near the first cataract on the Nile," said Karen, frowning at Scott for interrupting her.

Roger looked at Karen, both impressed with her memory and frightened that she had determined the location without his help. He knew she had the right location because it was in the Coptic that he "mistranslated" yesterday. If he had served his purpose, then he was expendable.

"We want you to go with us," said Scott, "in case there are any more Coptic texts that we can't decipher. One second." Scott ducked out of the tent before the Mindless guard arrived. He said something to the guard and then came back into the tent. "Our vehicle is ready whenever we are. We'll be taking four of the guards with us to help us carry the power source out from the dig site."

"But, if you were at the site before, why didn't you find the power source then?" asked Roger, still hoping to dissuade them. "What if it's been stolen or destroyed or is on display in some museum somewhere?"

Karen shrugged. "I suppose that's possible, but we won't know until we go there and look. Also, we'll be taking an amulet and a totem with us. Maybe they'll give us a clue as to where the power source is."

Roger was still scared, but at least they only thought it was a single power source, not the four or five that Roger reasoned there must be. And, maybe by the Nile he'd have a better chance of survival if he could escape.

"Shall we go then?" asked Scott and Roger nodded.

They left the tent and headed for the truck that they would drive most of the way to the site. One of the Mindless guards looked familiar to Roger. His heart started to beat fast since there was only one other person who should be here that he recognized: Ralph. As they got closer, Roger stopped and cried out in horror and anguish. He had no great love for Ralph since he had killed Erin and kidnapped him, but he at least understood his desire to help his son, no matter how misguided. One of the Mindless guards sat with dead eyes in the truck, heavy-set and wearing suspenders.

"Arrrghhh! No! You bastards!" yelled Roger. Karen and Scott turned to look at him as he started to back away from the truck. "No! How could you? He only wanted to save his son's life and this... horror... is how you repay him? What's wrong with you? You still have souls! How-"

Roger stopped suddenly as he backed into something solid. Matthew Vincent stood behind him. Roger whirled away, backing away from the truck, Matthew, and Karen and Scott. He didn't have a plan for escape, he was just overwhelmed with emotion and had to get away. "How could you? My god..." Roger's head spun and he sat down on the sand before he passed out.

Matthew handed Scott a gun to help keep Roger in line for the duration of the trip then went back to his work as if nothing had happened. Scott looked at Roger and a shadow of pity crossed his face. He used Mindless guards as much as any Mind did, but he refused to make them out of bodies that people around him would recognize. It was just too traumatic, even for those who dealt with death on a daily basis.

"Come on, Roger," said Scott, walking over to pull Roger to his feet. "There's no sense in making a fuss about it now as it's already done. You can ride up front with me, so you don't have to see him. Here we go now." Scott guided Roger back to the truck. Roger was limp and pliable in shock from the second horrific death this week. Somehow because Scott and Karen looked and acted so human, he could forget that they were dead. The Mindless looked catatonic and so... unnatural... that Roger thought of every zombie movie he had ever seen every time he looked at them. And this was a man he had seen alive so the difference truly shocked him.

Karen looked annoyed. She was annoyed that Roger was so given to panic, annoyed that Scott was playing in to that panic, and annoyed that she had to ride in the back of the truck. The wind would do horrible things to her hair.

Of the seven people on the strike team that had been sent after Karen Vandas when she first fled to Egypt, only five remained alive. The two fallen soldiers had been killed while trying to stop Matthew Vincent and Karen from obtaining a body for Karen to use. They had reported their failure to headquarters, but heard nothing since then. Protocol was for them to remain at their present location until they got word to go somewhere else. So, they waited.

Four days passed and they finally got word that they would be joined by another strike force. They were to go to the temple, learn what they could and, if possible, destroy it along with all the undead they could find. It took another two days for the second strike force to get there and for a plan to be established. They were now fairly sure that the temple housed some kind of powerful weapon that the Minds intended to use on the living. The VA spy amongst the PE had been a touch unreliable of late.

Even knowing that a weapon might be hidden in the temple, they had no way of knowing that it was now fully powered. And, they had no way of knowing that Scott Knight was with them or that his ESP was greatly enhanced by the altar in the temple. So much so, that he felt them coming miles before they actually arrived.

The ambush that awaited them was like nothing they had ever encountered. The Mindless greatly outnumbered them, but fought far better than they should have been able to, moved faster and hit harder than they should have. Matthew Vincent's ability to conjure and control fire was the coup d'grace of the ambush. Anyone the Mindless failed to kill in the first minute, he lit ablaze. It was a horrible, bloody battle that only the dead and Roger Simms lived to see the end of.

After being stabbed through the chest with a machete, Sarah was not particularly interested in helping the VA any more than she had been yesterday. In fact, the VA's willing disregard for her physical wholeness was beginning to take its toll on her sweater. But, it had been a convincing argument. Sarah was virtually immortal in the physical sense which made her an ideal, what? Target? Decoy? She was not trained in tactics and had very little natural ability in that area, so she doubted she would fit well into an organized strike team.

But, she did have a strong personal motivation for wanting to help now, something that the VA couldn't get her to feel before. Roger was the most important person in her life before all of this happened. And, if he could come to terms with it, he probably would be again. News that he had gone to the PE frightened Sarah to her core. She had no doubt that he was forced to go and that Karen and her ruthless nature would want to "dispose" of him as soon as he had served her purpose.

Still in her heart of hearts, she just wanted to be left alone. If she gave in on this occasion, there was no reason for the VA to let her go once she had server her purpose. And getting herself killed seemed like a poor way to thwart James Finnagan. No, she would have to find some other way to get away and go after Roger.

Sarah had been stewing for several hours when the door opened and Walter was pushed through it. Sarah sat up on the cot as the door closed behind Walter without explanation. "Walter, are you alright?"

Walter sat down on the cot looking shaken. Sarah sat down next to him. He didn't look physically injured, but after the treatment Buddy had given him, she knew looks could be deceiving. "They- The- All twelve of them... dead."

Sarah was starting to get worried. She had never seen Walter like this. Even after days of electric shocks, he was still defiant, but now, he looked frightened. Breathe, be calm, thought Sarah. They had to get through this mess alive and sane. What would twelve people that Walter knew be doing that could have gotten them killed?

"They went after Karen?" guessed Sarah.

Walter nodded and Sarah boggled. "What? She was with Matthew Vincent! Are they nuts?"

Walter squeezed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate. He was too tired and worn out for this to happen now. "Normally, it would have been enough. Some kind of weapon... something really powerful. I can't just-" Walter broke down crying and Sarah put her arms around him, trying to comfort him. He jumped a little at her cold embrace, but then just let go and sobbed.

Fuck, thought Sarah, Roger first and now this? The VA had never been a huge organization. Losing twelve people was bad, but to an operation this size, it was a devastating loss. As a secret organization, the VA operated with mostly covert people with localized control. There were very few all-out strike or retrieval teams.

But so what? This wasn't Sarah's problem. Getting out of the VA and getting to Roger were her only concerns. If it was just news of the team's death that had put Walter in this state, then he was worse off that she feared.

"Walter, it's not just that, is it?" asked Sarah. "What else has happened?"

"Nooo, dammit," wailed Walter into her arms. "You- I-I'm sorry, Sarah. I had to do it."

Sarah train of thought stopped dead. "Do what, Walter?" She held him slightly away from herself. "What did you do?"

"I... promised James that I'd get you to agree to help defeat the PE in Egypt."

"You what?!" cried Sarah, standing up. It defied reason and all the things that came into Sarah's mind got tangled up and no words at all came out. Finally, she managed, "no! Walter, how could you do that?"

"Oh, Sarah, you know what we're up against!"

"I don't care!" Sarah began to pace.

"You care about Roger! So, in this instance, our goals are the same."

Sarah stopped pacing. "What do you mean 'our' goals? You mean yours and mine? Or do you mean the goals of the Vindex Anima and my goals?"

"It doesn't matter now because they're the same," said Walter, looking away.

"Yes, of course it matters!" Sarah bent down in front of Walter and took his hands. "Walter, you're the reason I'm alive, you're the only person here who knows me as more than just a zombie, and you're the only reason I considered joining the VA in the first place. Please tell me that my faith was well placed."

Walter shut his eyes tight. "Oh, Sarah, I'm sorry."

Sarah sat down hard on the floor. How could she be so blind?

"It's not like you think! I do care about you, Sarah, maybe more than I should. And I do believe you should be able to choose your own path. But, this is too important-"

"You're actually siding with the people who tried to kill you, Walter. Unless that was just acting, too."

"No," said Walter firmly. He had spent too many sleepless nights over that whole incident. "No, that was real. Sarah, it was all real until two days ago."

"What happened two days ago to make you embrace the devil?"

"Two days ago is when we got word that our teams had been slaughtered at the temple in Egypt. Sarah, you don't understand; killing zombies is what we do, so we're very good at it."

"So how come there are still so many Minds on the loose?"

Walter sighed. "In my time with the VA, we have killed half a dozen Minds while four more were created. They are younger, less powerful in terms of guards, but they are still powerful. We're winning the battle, but only just. Regardless, the team that went into the temple was very good and they should have at least killed one Mind with the numbers they had."

"So what are you saying, these Minds are special?"

"Not the Minds, but the temple. There's some kind of device that amplifies the Minds' power a thousand times over. With that kind of thing, they could use their powers from much further away or do far more damage than they could by themselves."

Sarah gave a short laugh. "Oh, just that? You know this 'the world with end if you don't help' line is getting old with me. If Minds are so much more powerful than you then maybe they should take over. Maybe, being undead is a step higher in the evolutionary ladder. Or maybe, you're just so damn afraid of their existence that you'll say anything to convince people to do your bidding. You know, I'm starting to see a lot of similarities in strategy between the VA and PE."

"In fact," said Sarah, standing up again, "maybe you should just destroy each other and save the entire world the hassle!"

Walter looked down at his hands. What had he done? He had betrayed what little trust he had built in Sarah to get her to help save the world. But, it was all true, what he had told her and everything he said to Buddy. It even surprised him how much news of the the strike teams' death had polarized his view. They were people he looked up to, whose expertise he had seen in action and that he trusted to not screw up. He had agreed to help convince Sarah because it was the right thing to do.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I thought you'd understand."

"Oh, I understand enough," said Sarah. "You'll do anything in the name of what's 'right', even if no one else agrees with you."

"Is it not right to save Roger?" Walter felt guilty bringing up Roger, but it was the only thing he could think of.

Sarah scowled at him. "That's low. For all I know, Roger is already dead."

"For what it's worth," said Walter, "our spy says Roger is alive and he's invented a reason to keep him so, for a time."

"Quite the powerful spy, isn't he?"

Sarah stood still, facing away from Walter with her arms crossed over her chest. Damn stupid games, thought Sarah. Why does life have to be so much more complicated than science?

"Okay, assuming for a moment that I believe you, which I'm not saying I do, what happens if I agree to help?"

A tidal wave of relief washed over Walter. Try as she might, Sarah still was not good at hiding her emotions or intentions. "We go to Egypt with the rest of the strike teams and some covert operatives like me. Then, we... do what the team leader tells us to do. I don't know, I don't do this kind of thing often. Well, ever, actually."

Sarah grunted. "And, assuming we survive, what happens to Roger and me afterwards?"

"Uh, I don't know." For being an undercover operative, Walter somehow found it extremely difficult to lie to Sarah when she asked him questions directly.

She laughed bitterly. "Okay, fine." Sarah shook her head with resignation. "You tell James that I'll help you- just this once- on the condition that I get to leave the VA and never come back."

She turned around to face Walter. He looked tired, like a part of him had died forever. He just nodded and got up to leave. He paused as he passed her. "Sarah, I... hope you can forgive me someday."

"Yeah," said Sarah, "me too."

Karen hadn't been this giddy since college. The trip to the first cataracts had been a complete success. She and Scott Knight had found the tomb and recovered the giant red crystals to power the altar with. After they found them, she wanted to kill Roger, just to get it over with, but Scott said he was more valuable to them alive. For starters, they might be able to trade him for Sarah. Or, the VA might be willing to pay a hefty ransom to save a normal human from the fate one normally received as a guest of the PE. After the small let-down of not being able to kill Roger, Karen returned her attention to the joy and power of finding the crystals.

With the altar now fully powered, their extra abilities had far greater power or range. The test of that range was today's experiment. Andrew Brument had given Matthew and his team permission to test the altar's power over great distances. For this test, Matthew would light fires in three major cities of increasing distance from the temple.

"Okay, Matthew, we're ready," said Karen. It probably wasn't necessary to check on the crystals after each use, but they were still new to this type of power enhancement and they didn't want to break anything. Karen and Scott stood back from the altar and waited.

Matthew began a short distance away in Rome. He pictured a building on the central square in his mind. Then he mentally wrapped it in flames and pushed with his mind. If the power of the altar was real, the building would now be on fire. He repeated the process with Moscow and Beijing.

After about ten minutes of silent concentration at the altar, Matthew opened his eyes and smiled. "It is done," he said.

Scott smiled. "Now all we have to do is wait for Andrew's spies to tell us if the building selected actually burst into flames."

"All of this waiting is driving me mad," said Karen. "Why does everything take so long?"

"You're young," said Matthew, coming down the steps to where Scott and Karen stood. "In a few hundred years, you'll have the patience to wait a day to know the results. Actually, events have been moving at a frenetic rate to my way of thinking."

Karen just sighed.

The low stone building in Cairo looked like it had been forgotten for centuries. Walter's contacts had led them close enough to find it on their own, but no closer. The buildings around it were taller by a few stories and dark. They looked at it from a narrow alley where it let out into an only slightly wider stone street. The moon was bright overhead and sounds of fighting and cars were only a few blocks away.

"Is that it?" asked Sarah.

"Yes," said Walter. "We always try to pick something unobtrusive."

"Unobtrusive I don't mind, but I worry about you living types being crushed to death when this thing collapses."

Walter gave Sarah a weary look. It had been a long journey, made longer by the fact that Sarah could not easily travel amongst the living. They went to the front door, which hung crookedly in the door frame. Inside it was dark and smelled of sweet perfume. Walter shut the door behind them and Sarah started in the direction of the door to the next room, forgetting that Walter's eyes had to adjust to the sudden dark.

"You're late," said a voice from behind the next door.

"We got lost," said Walter.

The voice laughed a dry laugh. "I'm supposed to believe that they let you two find your way here on your own, unescorted? I don't think so."

"Well," said Sarah, "it was the zeal I showed in volunteering for this assignment that won them over."

A blade appeared from the doorway at Sarah's throat. Even through her headdress, it was capable of killing her. Sarah felt anger well up, along with frustration. Fine, she thought, let's play that game. Without moving her hands, Sarah reached up with her mind and snapped the blade in half. The end still attached to the VA soldier's hand moved with the force he had used to hold it against her throat. The blade flew harmlessly past Sarah's left ear and its wielder stumbled out of the doorway with his arm's unexpected movement. Sarah backed away from him quickly.

"Don't test me," said Sarah. As the man turned to charge her in rage, she held up her hand and held him in place.

"Sarah," said Walter, "please let him go. I think he understands now that you don't like threats."

The soldier turned his head in Walter's direction and spat. "You know nothing." To Sarah he said, "where are the others, you foul creature?"

"They're on their way," said Sarah. She had become accustomed to the way most of the VA saw her and it made her sad more than angry now.

"Actually," said Walter conversationally, "it was their idea to travel separately. The thought it would arouse less suspicion that way."

Sarah refused to let the soldier go until the rest of the strike teams had arrived. She figured that, with others around, any vengeful actions he had in mind would be extinguished. They didn't have to wait long. Once they had all arrived and the leader of the alpha team took charge, everyone went into the back room to begin the briefing.

Walter was a covert operative, so his training consisted of ways to subvert the normal flow of activities and how not to be noticed. This briefing was far more militaristic than he had expected. The strike teams seemed to speak in codes, this position, that maneuver, and so on, which they all understood except Walter and Sarah. There were still seven or eight other covert operatives that were being reassigned to this operation, but they had yet to arrive. Walter hoped that they would all get a translation briefing that would tell them what to do in words he could understand.

After the briefing, most of the teams got some sleep, including Walter. The alpha leader, Samuel, did not trust Sarah, so he had a guard stay awake with her. Not having to sleep much was both a blessing and a curse to Sarah. When she had things to do, it was wonderful because she had so much more time now that she was dead. But, when all she had to do was wait, it was tortuous. She made up a game of flipping a pen between two rocks on the floor of the building. Just when she thought she was getting good at it, her guard grabbed the pen mid-flight and tossed her a deck of playing cards.

The next morning, the covert operatives began to arrive. Once they were all assembled, Samuel went over their dumbed down briefing.

"Okay, people, I'm team leader Samuel. You can call me Sam but never Sammy; that's reserved for my uncle Hank." A small laugh went around the table as some of the tension in the room receded. "As you know, there are three Minds in the objective. The objective being the temple in the desert, for the slow ones. They are guarded by and unknown number of Mindless. Our best estimates put it at no fewer than thirty-five. There is also one living human among them, at last contact, one Roger Simms, an egyptologist. At present, we don't know if he is still alive, but assume that he is.

"Destroying the Minds and their weapon is the number one priority. Secondary objectives include rescuing Dr. Simms and confiscating any magical items the Minds may have. The Minds are Dr. Matthew Vincent whose known power is conjure and control of fire, Scott Knight whose power is unknown, and Dr. Karen Vandas whose power, if any, has yet to manifest itself. It is our primary objective to destroy Dr. Vincent and the weapon. I can't stress enough how important that is. Even if you have a very good chance of destroying Mr. Knight or Dr. Vandas and only a slight chance of getting to Dr. Vincent, get to Dr. Vincent.

"There is only one way into the temple by all accounts which makes it an extremely defensible position. However, that's where this thing comes in." Samuel gestured towards a large crate in the corner. "Inside that crate is our 'garage door opener', if you will. It's a small bomb like device that releases spinning, sharpened disks, five inches in diameter, in all directions. It should incapacitate or kill all of the Mindless in the vicinity. Simulations of this weapon in this temple put the count at ten to fifteen Mindless downed. Once they're down, we can enter the temple and begin orchestrated drives towards the weapon and Dr. Vincent.

"Your roles in this operation are to stay behind the rear guard and help him by destroying the undead as you come to them. If you get separated from your assigned guard, find another friendly, that's us living folks, and get behind them. Is all that clear?"

All those at the table nodded except Sarah. "So, we're just going to fight our way down towards the weapon and the Minds?"

"As far as you're concerned, that's right."

"What if this weapon can be used locally as well as in Rome and Moscow? Won't they just turn it on us?" A frightened look when around the table. Samuel just looked annoyed.

"You were here for the first briefing, so that point should have been made clear then. We have strong evidence that our spy will be able to sabotage the weapon before that time. In the event that he does not, beta team will split off and make an end around attack on the weapon." The operatives at the table looked confident again, but Sarah scowled. Logic told her this would not work. She opened her mouth to argue, but Samuel made a small motion with his hand that could only mean "not now".

"The timetable for this operation has us scheduled to move out at oh-three-hundred, so you should get what sleep you can between now and then. Dismissed." The operatives stood and moved away from the tables toward their sleeping areas. Walter watched Samuel approach Sarah and say something to her. She nodded, locked eyes with Walter, then turned and walked out to the front room.

Once outside, Samuel and Sarah walked slowly down the empty street. Samuel was tall, especially compared to Sarah's five foot height, and in excellent physical condition. He never doubted that he could kill Sarah if she tried to escape, but he also never believed he would have to.

"Sarah, you have less to fear from this operation than most of the people in that room. Why all the questions?"

"I am not a military minded person in the least," said Sarah, "so when I see gaping holes in plans like this, I get a little concerned. I just want to know that these questions have been addressed."

"I assure you they have," said Samuel. "I am not authorized to tell you the details, but suffice it to say that it's under control."

Sarah stopped and turned to study Samuel from behind her veil. He seemed reasonable, but he might just be keeping some inner fascist in check. "Tell me what you think of this idea, then. To ensure that someone friendly to the VA is at least in the vicinity of the weapon, let me go in first."

Samuel turned his head sharply towards Sarah, but said nothing.

"Let me go in, alone, and pretend that I have escaped the VA and that I want to join Matthew in his plans. That way, I'll be closer to him and the altar when the bomb goes off." Samuel frowned. "I know," said Sarah, "you want to know why you should trust me. Why should you let the most invulnerable operative you have out of your sight? Because they'll buy it. I don't care how good this spy of yours is, things always go wrong. Because you can't tell me the rest of the plan that makes the whole thing viable, you at least shouldn't rest the part I do know about on one person who is afraid of being discovered."

"But that's exactly what you're asking me to do with you," said Samuel.

"Samuel, I'm here to save Roger Simms. He may be a secondary objective to you, but he is my primary objective and helping you is secondary. I will do whatever it takes to ensure Roger's safety. That goal coincides with the VA goal on this mission. That's the big reason that James Finnagan agreed to send me and it's the reason you should trust me."

Samuel studied her, trying to see deceit in her eyes. It helped her case that Samuel had his own reservations about the spy's ability to disable the weapon. Headquarters was often right about a lot of things, but occasionally they were very wrong. As they found out when the first strike team went into the temple about a week ago, thought Samuel. He could threaten to harm Walter if she was not true to her word, but she didn't respond well to threats, it appeared. In his line of business, logic only got you so far. If a gut reaction told you something contrary to logic, you ignored it at your own peril. Samuel's gut was speaking loudly that night.

He reached down and took Sarah's hands. "Dr. Sarah Kline, Isis, give me your word that you will assist in the destruction of the Minds' weapon and in the Vindex Anima's goals for this mission."

Slightly taken aback by his formality, Sarah responded in kind. "Team leader Samuel, I give you my word."

Samuel got a truck for Sarah to use to drive out to the temple. On the trip, Sarah tried not to think about Roger. Instead, she tried to remember the state of mind she was in when she was talking to Scott Knight. She tried to remember how much the VA had screwed her over and used her like a tool or a weapon. She concentrated on their "living vs. dead" mentality and how she would never truly be welcome with them. She remembered that she could never have a normal life again, that Dr. Donovan was dead, that Roger was in danger, that everyone Sarah cared about was in harm's way now. And the VA didn't seem to give a damn what stood between them and destroying the PE.

By the time she pulled the truck to a stop at the camp, she was seething with hatred for the VA. She fingered the edges of the bullet and knife holes in her sweater for extra resolve and headed for the entrance to the temple. There were a few living guards around, but they didn't try to stop her and Sarah didn't stop to ask why not. She dropped down into the temple's entrance and saw twenty or so Mindless standing guard throughout it. At the altar, she saw Karen and Scott Knight discussing something.

Sarah walked directly down towards the altar and none of the Mindless tried to stop her. When she was about twenty feet away, Scott turned to her with a smile. "My dear Sarah! How are you?"

Sarah let him take her hand and kiss it, as he had done the last time they met. Sarah found this a little odd; Scott had been more than a little upset when they last saw each other, accusing her of setting up the attack on the church. "I'm fine Scott, thank you. Karen, good to see you." Sarah managed to keep her tone congenial.

"And you, Sarah," said Karen, with as much restraint. Karen was not at all happy to see Sarah. This was her discovery, her life's pursuit, her people, and Sarah was just the lucky little bitch who actually got there first.

"Scott, about the the last time we met-" started Sarah.

"Tush! Think nothing of it, Sarah. I know the whole story, and I think it's just dreadful that the VA were so ruthless and heartless to come and take you back to them by force. Barbarians, really." Scott smiled at Sarah and glanced at Karen. "I also recall seeing a little of your awakened power that night. Has it increased in strength at all?"

"What power?" demanded Karen. Her power had yet to manifest itself, and at this late date, it seemed unlikely that it ever would. Damn that interloper, thought Karen. If she hadn't transferred herself into Isis, those powers could be Karen's right now. Of course, then Karen would also look like Sarah right now. She looked her up and down and decided that she liked her own body much better.

Scott smiled with a bit of twinkle in his eye. "Sarah, would you please give us a demonstration? Perhaps you could demonstrate on one of the guards."

It was Sarah's turn to smile. Her powers had grown and she had gained better control over them. Also, just being here next to the altar she felt stronger. She turned around to face the rest of the temple and selected one of the Mindless guards. She picked him up with her mind and spun him head over feet around the large room before setting him back down where he started.

"Oh, excellent! Tell me, how many of them can you lift?"

Sarah held on the altar for balance, closed her eyes and concentrated. She lifted all of the guards inside the temple and a few of the ones just beyond the temple's entrance a few inches off the ground and then set them back down.

"Spectacular!" said Scott, beaming. "Oh, that is a useful power." Sarah opened her eyes and turned to face Scott and Karen again. If Karen could flush with rage, she probably would be doing so now. Seeing that rage in Karen's eyes was particularly sweet to Sarah since she still put much of the blame for her condition on Karen.

"Yes," said Sarah, "it is fantastically useful."

"So, Sarah, I take it by your presence here that you have reconsidered my offer to join the Pollere Exanima. Is that so?"

Sarah refocused her thoughts on her hatred of the VA's methods. "Yes," she said darkly. "Having witnessed first hand how the VA views the undead, I could not sit back and let them destroy my brethren."

"Indeed," said Scott, nodding. "Well, we have much to discuss. Karen and I were just-"

"Wait," said Karen. "You're just going to take her word that she's decided to join the PE? She could be a VA spy, for all we know, or an assassin sent here to kill us."

Sarah and Scott both turned to look at Karen. "I think given the circumstances," said Karen, "that a little caution is warranted, don't you, Scott?"

Scott pressed his lips together for a moment and then said, "alright, what would take as acceptable proof that Sarah is being sincere?"

Karen turned to Sarah with a smirk. "Destroy one of the guards."

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "Is that wise? Bodies are probably scarce out here to create a replacement."

"Do it!" commanded Karen.

With hate boiling inside her and knowing that the guard was already dead, Sarah picked a guard at random and walked over to it. She pulled a short knife from her pocket and stabbed it through the throat. The guard fell to the ground with the force of the blow and Sarah hacked through its neck until its head was free. She took the head over to the altar and set it down, facing Karen. Then, she pulled a torch from its holder and lit the body on fire. As thick black smoke started to fill the temple, Sarah walked back over to the altar and slammed the torch down on the altar so that the flames lit the head on fire, too.

Sarah cocked her head at Karen and sneered. "Satisfied?"

Karen scowled and the edges of Scott's mouth threatened to break into a smile. She knew Sarah was hiding something. There was no way that this scrawny, gullible, academic had thwarted VA security and come here by chance. Karen knew what Scott's power was, but she was certain that Sarah did not. She whispered into Scott's ear, but he shook his head and whispered back. "I don't care," said Karen aloud.

"And that will satisfy you?" asked Scott. "I grow weary of this."

"Yes, that will satisfy me."

Sarah was trying to figure out what the next test would be when Scott placed his hand on hers and closed his eyes. A few seconds later, Scott opened his eyes and withdrew his hand. He shook his head at Karen. "Nothing," he said. "Sarah is not working for the VA."

A stab of fear when through Sarah. Was he a telepath? If so, he would have known the truth.

"Besides, Karen, ESP is not the same thing as telepathy. All I can do is sense things, feelings and actions, are the strongest. Thoughts have to be very strong for me to pick up on them. I told you that."

Karen frowned and grunted.

"But, that aside," said Scott, smiling again, "we can get down to our final preparations for Operation Marionette."

Team leader Samuel and his forces travelled over the desert in trucks. Each team took a different route so that they could make their final approach from all sides. Samuel didn't expect much resistance above ground, but it wouldn't hurt to prepare for it.

Walter rode in the bumpy back of one of the trucks with the team and a few other operatives. He alternated between holding on for dear life and nervously fingering the handle of his machete. He had tried smoking, but it was impossible under these conditions. He tried not to think of Sarah, or Erin, or his wife.

"Operation Marionette?" asked Sarah. "That's an interesting name."

"I came up with it," beamed Scott. Karen just shook her head. "Once we finish fine tuning the focusing and amplification of the crystals, Andrew Brument can use the altar to control the minds of people around the globe."

"Umm," said Sarah.

"Just world leaders," said Scott by way of justification. "If done properly, they won't even know it's happening. Hence, Operation Marionette."

"Braaaaains," moaned Sarah, sticking her arms straight out in front of her and staggering around. "Braaaains!" Seeing that Scott didn't understand and that Karen was not amused, she stopped. "Uh, I would have called it Operation Brains. You know, get that whole zombie angle in there."

"Ah, yes," said Scott, making the connection. "Those horrible moving pictures with the undead... yes, yes, I see now. I'm afraid I've been away from popular entertainment for a number of years now."

Sarah sighed. "That's okay, you didn't miss much." Internally, Sarah was cursing. If Andrew Brument was coming here this afternoon, it would be better for the VA soldiers to wait until he arrived. But, she had no way to get word to them.

"Karen," called a voice from the entrance. Karen, Scott, and Sarah turned to face the entrance. It was a good thing that Sarah was holding on to the altar when she did so, because standing at the entrance was Roger Simms, apparently unharmed. A living guard had hold of his upper arm. Matthew Vincent led the way down towards the altar. "Karen, you really must be more careful with those you bring to help," said Matthew. "Dr. Simms was caught more than a mile from here trying to escape on foot."

Sarah tried to remember hating the VA, but her heart soared at seeing Roger alive. She kept her face admirably sober, and it became easier to do so as they approached and Sarah could see bruises and scratches on Roger's skin. His eyes drifted over Sarah, unseeing, and then snapped back to her as his brain connected the grey skin and black curly hair with a woman he knew quite well. Sarah could see his breathing become quick and irregular, whether it was from fear or joy, Sarah couldn't tell.

After looking at Roger, Sarah's eyes went to Matthew Vincent. She had read about him in the VA records and remembered what Scott had told her of him. She was relieved, more than she expected to be, to finally see another Mind with the grey skin that set Sarah apart, even from other Minds.

Introductions were made and Roger followed Sarah's lead of keeping their greeting cool and professional. He trusted Sarah and if she was here, on speaking terms with Karen and the others, there must be a good reason.

There were more Mindless than expected above ground, so Samuel's care in bringing in troops from all sides paid off. Since mobile, ranged decapitation weapons were still in VA research, the strike team moved among the Mindless with machetes, not bothering to ignite the bodies behind them. However, since the PE guards were not limited to decapitation to kill, they use semi-automatic weapons with great efficiency.

Walter's team moved in on the temple entrance from the southeast with little resistance. The team to the west encountered the most, that being where the tents were which provided the best cover. An explosion north of the temple was a truck exploding. Walter prayed it was a PE truck as he finished off a guard wounded by his team leader.

"Ah, yes, Dr. Sarah Kline," said Matthew. "I read your paper on the use of homonyms in ancient egyptian burial texts. Very interesting. I, uh, assume Scott has filled you in on the details of today's work?" Sarah nodded. "Very well, then. Karen, as I was saying, you must keep a closer eye on your living companion here. Our guards can do much, but since you brought him here, he is your responsibility."

Karen frowned. "Scott knows I wanted to kill him after we found the crystals in the tomb up river. Why should I look after him?"

There was a low boom in the distance and Matthew frowned. "Did you hear that?"

"Fall back!" ordered the living guards. Instantly, the Mindless stopped what they were doing and ran at top speed to the temple entrance. In the case of Walter's group, the guard had been poised to open fire on their wounded team leader when he turned and ran.

Samuel was not so lucky. A bullet grazed his side, taking a chunk of skin with it. He twitched with the force of the bullet and made a low cry, but he stayed upright until he was sure the guards had retreated. He radioed for the B-group to bring in the disk weapon while he field bandaged his wound. The other team leaders radioed him with their wounded and casualty list. It was not encouraging. Starting with over twenty people, they were now down six. Over a quarter of their number was gone, and they hadn't gotten to the hard part, by Samuel's reckoning. He prayed that his two secret weapons, the bomb and Sarah, worked according to plan.

The group of people at the altar strained to hear what was going on outside the temple. Suddenly, there was an influx of guards at the entrance. Roger stumbled backwards, in a blind attempt to get away from the fighting that was sure to follow.

"It can't be," said Matthew. "They would not be so bold as to attack four Minds at once."

Sarah said nothing. She wanted to scream at Roger and tell him to hide in the small back chambers, that he would be safe there until she came for him. But she didn't. She let herself be as surprised and befuddled as the others. It had occurred to her, and probably to Samuel, that by being in the temple when the bomb went off, Sarah was in danger of being killed by it. Its target was Matthew Vincent, but those sharp flying disks of steel did not have a sense of direction.

"What if it is?" asked Scott. "Perhaps we should hide whilst our guards dispatch the VA- oh dear."

As Scott's powers had told him, something unusual and unexpected happened. Rather than seeing VA soldiers come into the temple, one by one, to be slaughtered by the PE guards, a large metallic cylinder dropped through the hole in the ceiling. As it crashed to the stone floor, its side panels were expelled. Then, hundreds of small, extremely sharp, violently spinning disks exploded from the bomb's core, completely shredding the ten or so guards standing closest to it.

Scott had ducked behind the altar after sensing the unusual delivery. Karen joined him a second later, screaming. Sarah leapt from where she was on the altar steps and tackled Roger and the living guard to the floor. As she hoped, her leap put her between the disks and Roger. She felt disks rip through her left calf and right hip. Another planted itself in her back, while a fourth whined harmlessly by her left ear, taking only hair with it. The three of them landed with a heavy thud on the stone floor.

Matthew did not move after seeing the bomb arrive. His body was peppered with disks, but his head stayed cleanly attached. Sarah looked up at him from the floor in time to see a disk come in contact with his neck and be deflected. She pulled the knife from her pocket and lunged at his neck with it. The knife blade slid off of his neck as if she'd tried to plunge it into a stone wall. Matthew merely looked at her. "Steel plates," he said, "just under the skin. Very effective."

Samuel's soldiers waited for the first wave of ricochet to die down before dropping down into the temple. From there, the moved in a three pronged attack, all driving towards the altar. The bomb had done better than expected, but the remaining guards opened sporadic fire as they tried to regain a sense of order.

Sarah dropped to Roger's side and carried him in her arms to the back chamber. He was bleeding from a gash in his left thigh. He alternated between catatonic and abject fear. "Roger, stop the bleeding and stay here until I come for you. Understand?" He nodded.

Sarah ran back to the main room and saw Karen still huddled behind the altar with Scott. She used her telekinetic powers to pull a machete from the floor by the entrance to her hand. With a wild gleam in her eye, she lunged at Karen's throat, but Scott pulled her clear of the swipe. "Sarah, what are you doing?" asked Scott.

"Exacting my revenge," said Sarah. At that, Karen growled and leapt up at Sarah, grabbing for the machete. They tumbled back from the altar and down the steps.

Samuel's carefully orchestrated three pronged attack had disintegrated into chaos as the points of those prongs fell. The remaining guards and VA soldiers fought in small groups, ranging all over the room. Worse, some of Samuel's own soldiers had been reanimated by one of the PE guards. They entered the battle, looking so similar to the living that it was almost impossible to tell who was alive and who was undead. It was a soldier's worst nightmare.

Walter saw Sarah tumble down the stairs with a woman he assumed was Karen Vandas. He tried to remain focused on his attack and not run blindly to them. A bullet ripped through his upper left arm and spun him to the floor with the force. He grabbed at the searing pain and tried not to cry out.

Matthew Vincent walked behind the altar, placing his hands on the top of it. He concentrated and, in turn, started lighting VA soldiers on fire. He cackled with glee watching the soldiers flail around, finally falling to the ground to try and put the fire out. Once they were down, Matthew moved on to the next one.

Roger had bandaged his leg as best he could, but something in him forced him to move. He crawled slowly towards the opening of the chamber and the sounds of fighting and death. From the opening, he saw Sarah and Karen struggling for control of a machete, and it looked like Karen was winning.

"How could you do it, Karen?" asked Sarah through her teeth as Karen grabbed at her wrists.

"Fuck you," said Karen, ramming her knee into Sarah's stomach. "You were never supposed to be here."

Sarah headbutted Karen which made her twitch long enough for Sarah to get Karen turned around with the blade near her throat. "I meant steal artifacts and lie about it."

Karen slithered down through Sarah's arms, the blade slicing into Sarah's right shoulder. As she moved down, Sarah put both her feet into Karen's back and pushed. Karen grunted and rolled away.

Sarah looked towards the rear chamber door when she saw movement. Scott reached Roger in two strides and yanked him to his feet in front of himself. Scott put him in a headlock and started walking slowly in Sarah's direction, careful to keep Roger between himself and the main temple.

After bandaging his arm, Walter picked up his machete and made his way carefully back in Sarah's direction.

Samuel tried to rally enough VA soldiers to make a push for Matthew, but there was too much confusion. Finally, Samuel decides to go after Matthew alone. After decapitating the guard in front of him, Samuel marched straight for the altar, only to feel a burning heat all around him as he reached the altar steps. He fell to the ground and began to put out the fire. Just when he thought it was out, Matthew would light it again.

Sarah looked away from Scott and Roger long enough to see movement in the corner of her eye. Turning towards it, she saw Karen's arm flung outwards and a spinning disk headed towards her neck. Before Sarah can act, a cry of "no!" and a blur of color come between Sarah and the disk. Then another, higher pitched cry came from Karen's direction. Karen's face looked incredulous as her head slid off her neck and tumbled forwards while her body fell backwards.

Walter now felt kind of silly for taking the time to bandage his arm. The disk had just above his heart, severing a major artery. As he fell backwards, he relished the image of Karen's destruction. Then, Sarah's face entered his field of view as she bent over him, to see what had happened. The sadness and concern on her face were enough to make him smile; maybe she had forgiven him. "Good bye, Sarah. Good bye, my beautiful wife; I will join you now."

With those final whispers, Walter Bane died in Sarah's arms. "No!" she howled. Anger, fear, resentment, forgiveness, and loss tossed around inside her like flotsam. Not Walter, thought Sarah, he was the best of the VA, he was their humanizing soul. Seeing the bright red blood on her hands, Sarah latched onto her rage and let it pull her to her feet.

Matthew Vincent saw Sarah rise to her feet and begin to charge forward. From his angle, it appeared that she was charing Scott and Roger. Traitor, he thought, and concentrated on creating a vast fireball which he hurled with great force towards Sarah.

Roger and Scott both looked up in horror as an enormous fireball came hurtling their way. Sarah saw the fireball too late and caught the full force of it, smashing into Scott and Roger behind her. For Sarah and Scott, the fire was intensely unpleasant, but not actually painful or deadly. After landing in a pile against the rear stone wall, Sarah tried to get Roger away from the fire by pushing him with her mind. She rolled him on the ground, trying to smother the fire.

Samuel finally gave up on putting out the fire on him and climbed over the altar. He swung his burning arm at Matthew's neck and got an unexpected clang rather than a satisfying swish. Distracted by Samuel's futile attack, Matthew lost his concentration and couldn't keep the fire on many of its victims going.

Roger let out a weak cough. Through the haze of burning clothing, hair and his own flesh, Roger called to Sarah. She scrambled to him, with real fear in her eyes. No, she thought, not my Roger! Not Walter and Roger!

"Sarah," croaked Roger.

"Oh, Roger, no, don't try to speak, just hang on."

Roger continued as if he hadn't heard her. "Sarah, I have to tell you." He turned his head to look into her white on white eyes. "I love you, Sarah. I always have."

"Roger, no, don't die!" screamed Sarah, but it was too late. His body went limp.

This time, rage boiled up in Sarah from reserves she didn't know she had. It built to a piercing, ragged scream that could be heard above the fighting and gunfire. Sarah let her arms fall wide and threw her head back in the scream. Then, she pulled all of that anger and hate back to her and used it to reach Matthew Vincent with her mind. She wrapped her fingers around thin air as her mind wrapped around Matthew's head and torso.

Matthew heard a scream and then couldn't move. Samuel had fallen dead beside him, still burning, when he saw Sarah come towards him. She walked with her head lowered and her eyes never wavering from his. She stalked up to the other end of the altar and Matthew's eyes widened. Sarah placed her hand on the altar's surface, took one last look at Matthew Vincent, and mentally pulled with all her might. Steel plates clattered to the ground as his head was pulled from his body.

Sarah made sure to light both his body and head on fire from the one that burned on Samuel's body. Then, she turned her attention to the remaining fights in the temple. Placing both hands on the altar, Sarah wrapped each PE guard with her mind. Surprised by the sudden lack of resistance, some VA soldiers carried through with their decapitation, while others stopped to stare at Sarah. When she felt their eyes on her, Sarah looked up and said, "finish this."

In all the commotion, no one saw Scott Knight slip up to the temple entrance and out into the approaching night.

Andrew Brument was sitting quietly with his immaculate hands folded on the large desk in front of him. Only a week ago, he had been in Cairo, on his way to the surest source of power on Earth. Now, that power had been destroyed, along with Dr. Matthew Vincent, Andrew's foremost researcher. The bronze-skinned man sitting across the table from him was the only reason Andrew knew anything at all about the incident.

He could not understate his frustration at being so close to his goal, only to have it ripped away by a few VA soldiers and a rogue Mind. But, he'd had some time to cool his temper and this meeting with Scott Knight actually contained some good news.

"Although the magic of the totems and red crystals seems to have been discovered and most widely used in Egypt and surrounding areas, I believe the Norse legends I mentioned hold promise," said Scott. He looked at Andrew over his crossed legs and felt grateful for the soft chair under him. Scott had seen Matthew's demise and he was glad that he escaped the same. Losing Matthew had wounded Scott; he was Scott's mentor and friend. But, he held no grudges. Matthew was at the temple at Andrew's request, but Matthew believed in what he was doing. He was destroyed by Sarah, but she was seeking revenge for her fallen comrades.

Scott knew that Sarah was still working for the VA from the moment he entered his awareness, before her truck pulled to a stop. It was Scott that ordered the guards to let her pass and it was his lie that satisfied Karen's witch hunt. Scott still wondered if it was the best thing to do. His role as a spy for the VA went only so far; far enough to destroy the loose cannons, like the Mind in Russia that Walter had killed, and to destroy those whose ambition exceeded their ability to control such power. Scott put Andrew Brument in the last category. Scott also sought power, but he did it in what he considered to be a more methodical way, taking measured steps, and pausing to consider the next before diving in. So, hiding Sarah's true intentions was in his own best interests. She and the VA would destroy the temple and his two closest competitors, while he miraculously got away. Scott could have used the temple, but he would rather see it destroyed than in the hands of madmen.

Andrew grunted and looked down at his hands. He believed Scott's story of escape and blamed only the VA and Sarah Kline for the temple's destruction. Scott was good as a researcher, and was getting better all the time, but he was too savvy for Andrew's tastes. He preferred his researchers to be blind to politics and focus solely on their work. Scott was too aware of his surroundings and too calculating to be trusted entirely. "Fine. Take a team from the Lithuanian headquarters and head up there. Keep me informed."

"Of course," said Scott, taking his cue to leave.

After he had gone, Andrew called Mr. Baker on the phone and told him to keep an eye on Scott Knight. Some, even in the PE, might have seen it as unethical to have your own members spied upon, but not Andrew. Information was power, and Andrew believed that statement implicitly.

The VA directors and the old man met Sarah in the library rather than in the conference room. They felt it was better to avoid any unpleasant memories. Snow had been falling for a couple of days and the house was quiet both inside and out. A fire crackled pleasantly in the fireplace as coffee was distributed to all the living who were present. Sarah sat in an overstuffed wingback chair to one side of the fireplace with the rest of the directors arranged in chairs and standing to her right and behind her.

According to the report James had read, Sarah had been crucial to the operation's success, and he felt vindicated in forcing her to help them. After the battle in the temple, the remaining VA soldiers and Sarah took great pleasure in destroying the large red crystals before gathering them up to be disposed of properly back at headquarters. In fact, disposal was out of the question. As part of the ongoing research in to the nature of the magical powers of the Minds, they were slated to undergo all manner of tests.

For a few days after the attack on the temple, Sarah was inconsolable, not that many dared to try. Once her immediate grief had run its course, she settled down to a blank kind of anger. She didn't have any one person to blame, so her anger sort of evened out into a foundation for her determination. She would see both the Vindex Anima and Pollere Exanima destroyed before she stopped fighting.

James Finnagan cleared his throat and Sarah looked up at him, sitting almost opposite her. "Sarah, we asked you here today to express our gratitude for your assistance in Egypt. I know we did not part on the best terms, but I hope you can accept our thanks."

Sarah looked at him for a moment. "Will there be a funeral for Walter and Samuel?"

James uncrossed and crossed his legs, looking into the fire. "Yes. All the men and women who died in that operation will have memorial services, both within the VA and in public. That's the least we can do for them and their families."

Sarah nodded. She had forgiven Walter for working with the VA to get her to help even before they arrived in Egypt. But, she never told him, and she should have. She thought of Walter as her guide and mentor in this new world she had entered. He was a good man who had suffered a great deal and Sarah was angry that he would never see the effects his deeds had on the world. He deserved better.

"Did you do what I asked?"

James smirked. When he got word that the operation was complete and the altar had been destroyed, James was elated. He considered this a major blow to the PE. When he learned of Sarah's role in its success, he mentally licked his chops at the idea of having her around to assist in even more missions. Her condition for joining the mission was that it would be her last with the VA, but James intended to disregard it as long as she was still alive.

It was some of the other directors who convinced him to see reason and let her go. After losing Walter and especially Roger, Sarah had no reason to fear death. They argued that if James tried to force his will on her again, she would sooner die than go along. They also argued that she was more valuable as a "free agent" than dead. When the directors conceded, Sarah asked them to get her the money she had in her accounts when she was alive so that she could buy clothes and hire a living assistant, to do the things she could not.

"Yes. We have your money in an escrow account and we've hired an assistant for you. If she does not meet with your approval, she'll be happy to provide referrals." One of the directors nearer to Sarah handed her a notebook with all the information on her assistant.

They sat in silence for a moment, Sarah studying each director she could see. They either returned her gaze or looked away uncomfortably, depending on their fortitude. Finally, Michael Walker, the security director spoke up.

"Sarah, we have made it policy to exclude you from the list of undead. Although that is your nature, we wanted to ensure that no overzealous members of the VA would try to harm you in our name."

Sarah merely looked at him. "Of course," he continued, "if you decide someday that your goals and ours are the same, we encourage you to contact us." Sarah noticed that he did not say "you are welcome here" and a ghost of a smile crossed her lips. The living were so amusing.

The old man squinted at Sarah from his position two seats away. "Did you take my advice the last time I offered it?" he asked. Sarah nodded. "Heh. Then you'll probably not take it again, but I'll give it anyway. Grief and anger will fade in time. Make sure that who you are does not." Satisfied with himself, the old man sat back in his chair and watched the fire.

A week later, Sarah was doing some fire watching of her own. In a heavy stone bowl in front her, the splintered remains of the reanimation totem burned brightly. She was sitting crosslegged on top of the altar in the church where she had met Scott Knight. She had her assistant, Beatrice, buy it for her. Once she could find a more permanent home, she intended to fund the repairs on it. But for now, the flames and her mourning were more important. On either side of the bowl was a candle, one for Walter and one for Roger.

Roger's dying words still echoed in her ears and she wondered how she could have been so blind all of those years. Years of lunches and movies and conversations and Sarah had never once suspected that she was Roger's true love. And, she had never expected the feelings that knowledge awoke in her. Sarah had always expected love to be something uncomfortable or guarded like most of her first dates were. She never imagined that love could be quiet, honest, and clear. But, as she remembered Roger, she felt love, truly, for the first time. It seemed entirely unfair that she discover this now.

Unable to cry, Sarah cut off a lock of hair and burned it with the totem. She willed her sorrow to rise like the smoke and let her get on with life. If only Sarah knew what that meant. All of her training and her life's devotion to studying ancient cultures were mere sidebars to the talents she would need in hunting the Pollere Exanima. She reached up and touched the red jeweled scarab amulet that hung around her neck. These were the same artifacts that Karen had brought back with Isis. It seemed fitting that their purpose now turned to stopping those they helped create.

One day, Sarah hoped she could rest easy, knowing that the war between the living and the dead had finally ended. She had much to do and an enormous amount to learn before that day. She knew she could use her research skills to find stories that might interest the PE. Also, she knew she would have to find someone skilled in technology. Like the VA, she saw great power in understanding how this magic worked.

As the last flame of the totem flickered out, Sarah was filled with fresh resolve. She blew out the candles and picked up the bowl containing the totem's ashes and took them to the highest tower in the church. She let them blow away in the wind.

Dr. Albert Wilkins sat in his spacious new office, looking out the window at the campus' main quad. He felt only the slightest bit guilty about he had come to be there. Dr. Vandas had been a stunning archeologist and her death came as a great shock to the entire community. Worse still, it came so close to the unexpected deaths of Dr. Donovan, Dr. Kline, and Dr. Simms. The entire department was in a state of shock that so many of their own were gone so suddenly.

It was Albert who decided that the best way to honor them was to press forward and make this university world renowned for its Egyptology and ancient cultures program and research. He moved that wings in the museum be named after each of them and that any replacements they interviewed held the same commitment to the field as those they were replacing. He smiled at the memory of the museum dedication. More people than ever had showed up for the ceremony, including a sad, blonde secretary who sobbed when the Dr. Roger Simms memorial wing was dedicated. Albert congratulated his good PR work for the turn out.

Albert decided to honor them in a slightly different way. He found some of Karen's notes on magical items and noticed that her research seemed more than academic. There were a lot of papers detailing the mechanics of certain rituals and their purported results. Perhaps Karen had wanted to do more than just study ancient magic, went Albert's thoughts. Perhaps she intended to use the magic.

Sitting back in his comfortable chair, watching the students come and go, he scratched his chin. Perhaps the magic she sought was worth pursuing.