The Amulet of Power - Mike Resnick [35]
“I am told they are still in that section of the Nile that runs through Uganda to Lake Victoria,” said Gaafar.
“Yes, they are,” affirmed Lara. “I’ve seen them there.”
“You are quite a traveler, Lara Croft,” remarked Omar.
“I get around.”
“An understatement,” said Omar with a smile.
“Perhaps.” She looked across the lake. “How about hippos?” she asked. “Are they all gone, too?”
“They say a few remain, but I have never seen one,” said Omar. “Once they were as plentiful in the Nile as crocodiles. They were called River Horses, though no one ever put a saddle or a bridle on one.”
“I always wondered why they were given that name,” said Lara. “They should have been River Pigs. They’re far more closely related.”
“They are awesome and noble beasts,” explained Hassam. “The horse is noble, whereas the pig is unclean.”
“You told me why the Egyptians and Sudanese killed off the Nile crocs, and it makes sense,” said Lara. “But if you think of the hippos as noble, awesome, horselike creatures, why kill them off, too?”
“We didn’t,” answered Gaafar.
“Surely you’re not suggesting European hunters killed all your hippos?”
“No, it was the climate,” said Omar. “Once, centuries ago, Northern Africa was a mild and temperate land, with heavy rainfall and thick vegetation. Over time it turned into desert, until it appears the way you see it now, with ninety-five percent of the Egyptian and Sudanese populations living along the Nile, the only source of life in this arid land.” He paused. “The hippopotamus spends his days in the water, because the water protects his sensitive skin from the rays of the sun. But he does not eat in the water. Each night he climbs ashore and forages inland, eating up to three hundred pounds of vegetation before returning to the water.” He waved a hand toward the shore. “Look around you. Nothing grows two miles inland. Even with irrigation ditches, five miles from the Nile—or what used to be the Nile before they created Lake Nasser—all you will find is desert. With all the vegetation gone, it was only a matter of time—a very short time—before the hippos were gone, too. Some starved, some moved south . . . but none remained.”
“Perhaps whoever discovers the Amulet of Mareish can turn the land green again,” suggested Hassam.
“More likely, he will turn it red—with blood,” replied Gaafar.
“What does the Amulet look like?” asked Lara. “If I’m to hunt for it, I have to know what I’m looking for.”
“It is so big,” said Omar, juxtaposing his thumbs and forefingers in a circle about three inches in diameter. “We know that it is made of bronze, and on it are engraved a scimitar, a dagger, and a representation of the sun—though no one is exactly sure of what it looks like. These words are the Mahdi’s description of it, written in his own hand in his private diaries. It hung from his neck on a silver chain, but we have no idea if the chain is still attached.”
“Are there any drawings of it?” she asked.
“There are many,” answered Omar. “But all are drawn from descriptions of it. None are from life. No artist has ever actually seen the Amulet.”
“Did General Gordon ever mention it?”
“Not to my knowledge,” said Omar. “But he wrote a large number of monographs and letters, so it is possible that he mentioned or even described it and we simply have not discovered that writing yet.”
“It’s not going to be an easy task,” said Lara. “You’ve got an Amulet that no living person has ever seen, that no one in the past has ever photographed or accurately drawn. It may be attached to a silver chain that is also not described, or it may not be. And it’s probably hidden in a country that is larger than England and France put together with most of Spain tossed in for good measure. And some of the Mahdists will be out to kill me before I find it, and some will be trying to take it from me the moment I do.” She paused. “You sure know how to make a girl feel wanted.”
“You will have Kevin Mason’s help,” said Omar.
“Let’s be honest,” she replied. “You never even heard of