Issue 1: Wings of Destiny, Pt. 1

88 Rimble Road,
Westchester County, New York
April, 1938…

Carter Hall took his morning coffee in the garden overlooking his estate. Unshaven and still in his bathrobe, he had a seat and picked up the newspaper that had been laid out for him, yawning. He had not slept well; he had had one of his dreams. This time, he dreamt he was a warrior in a strange land, Japan he thought, though he knew very little of the place. He awoke before the end, but they all ended the same way. In his death.

He shook off the foreboding feeling and glanced at the paper, today’s New York Times. There was another article about the Mystery Man from Keystone City that the press had dubbed the Flash. The photograph was blurry, but Carter could almost make out a running figure in red, wearing an outlandish helmet, waving and smiling broadly. What a bizarre phenomenon. First that caped fellow in Fawcett City, Captain Marvel, and now this… Flash! There were rumors of another Mystery Man, too, the so-called Sandman, who haunted the streets of Manhattan. He grunted and flipped through the pages.

Germany was doing more saber-rattling at Poland, President Roosevelt affirming U.S. relations with Britain and France, and Bolshevik clubs stirring trouble in Opal City.

Same old stuff. He finished his coffee and went back inside. A full day awaited him. The museum would be expecting their chief field agent; he’d have to take the train into the city early if he was to finish cataloguing next month’s exhibit of Mesopotamian artifacts on time.
A newly delivered package was waiting for him. He took it into his study, an oak-paneled room, the walls of which were lined with Carter’s personal collection of ancient weapons.

He raised an eyebrow at the return address: Professor James Rock, Shepards Hotel, Cairo, Egypt. What was Jim up to these days? Carter recalled that his old college friend was supposed to be stateside, his university recalling all researchers the more it looked that the world was drifting closer to war. His eyes drifted to the black and white photo on his desk, showing three young men in college jerseys laughing together: himself, Jim and Cal “Cave” Carson.
He opened the package.

There were only two things inside: a folded piece of paper and a dagger.

It was not unheard of for Jim or Cave to send Carter a new, interesting piece for his collection, but Carter could tell instantly that there was something different about this dagger. He lifted it carefully from the box, thinking that it should not have been so light and yet feel so dense. It was the color of gold, only a little darker, and obviously very old, ancient even. It was unadorned and unnaturally sharp, despite its apparent age. It looked like Egyptian craftsmanship, but he could not identify the metal…

He felt an instinctive, personal revulsion to the weapon. He laid it down in instant distaste. He knew ---he knew not how!--- that this thing had been an instrument of murder…

The paper was a simple note in Jim’s handwriting: I’ve found Khufu. Come quickly.

Carter frowned. Something was not right. Khufu…The name resonated with Carter--- he’d been obsessed with finding the lost pharaoh’s final resting place for years, but all trails seemed to lead to dead-ends. Jim was a competent archaeologist, but he didn’t have the background, the years of study, the passion that Carter did for the lore of the forgotten, short-reigned pharaoh.

What had Carter missed?

One thing was certain, he decided, studying the mysterious dagger on the desktop: he would be on the next boat out to Alexandria.

Freshly shaven and his dark blond hair combed respectably back, Carter emerged into the ballroom in a custom-tailored suit to the strains of the orchestra playing a Strauss waltz. He accepted a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and scanned the crowd of whirling couples; he didn’t have the slightest idea what the guest of honor looked like, only that he would know him when he saw him.

Here, at last, was the Shepards he remembered: people dancing while the world spun ever faster and nearer to conflagration.

He caught a glimpse of some old friends, the husband and wife archaeological team of C.C. and Marilyn Batson, chatting politely with that new fellow, the very dour Kent Nelson whom Carter had worked with briefly a few seasons before; the man had strange tastes and dangerous predilections, and Carter was somewhat surprised to see him with the amiable Batsons. He was a bout to approach them when he heard his name called.

“Carter?”

A familiar bearded man in a suit came up to him, with a young woman on his arm.

“Cave!” Carter exclaimed, both pleased and puzzled to see his friend where he was least expected. The two shook hands boisterously. “What the hell are you doing here? Last I heard you were in Addis Ababa excavating the temple caverns...?”

“Had to clear out.” Cave Carson explained. “Things were getting too hot; the war with the Italians is spreading all over the country. I’ve been in Cairo for a week now, waiting for the next boat out, but everything is crazy, what with the Nazis--- Have you two met?”

Carter blinked. He had not been aware he’d been staring. The girl on Cave’s arm was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen: her long and lustrous hair spilled over one bare, alabaster shoulder in soft copper waves, and her eyes were a deep, rich molten brown. She outshone every other woman in the room in her evening gown--- every one of them would have died for her figure. And she was staring up at Carter with an expression that was equally perplexed and intense.

“Um… I don’t think so.” Carter mumbled when he regained his voice. “I’m very sure I would have remembered.”

“Then allow me the honors.” Cave said smoothly. “Carter Hall, this is my fiancée, Shiera Saunders. Shiera is an ingénue at the Lyric Opera in Gotham. Darling, this is my old friend from Princeton, Professor Carter Hall, curator of the Antiquities department of the Metropolitan Museum in Manhattan, lecturer, and itinerant archaeologist.”

“Delighted.” She extended her hand to Carter, who found himself only able to hold it for a moment without an unaccountable fit of shaking.

“Shiera was in town for the big production of Aida last night, coincidentally. And an absolute triumph for her, I might add.” Cave was saying. “But what brings you to Egypt, Carter? The season’s almost over, and with the situation in Europe what it is…?”

It cost Carter a visible effort to tear his eyes off of Shiera to address his old friend. “Actually, I’m looking for Jim. I got a message from him two weeks ago that he was onto something big. But it seems he’s disappeared…”

He told Cave the whole story, acutely aware of the girl at his friend’s side, hanging on his every word. Consciously, he determined not to look at her, but at every opportunity he stole a glance, rewarded with the faintest impression of a smile and the electric thrill that sent up his spine.

“Erdu, huh?” Cave scratched his beard. “I don’t know, Carter, you’ve been over that place pretty thoroughly. But I guess the dagger came from somewhere. Could Jim really be on to something?”

Carter shrugged and sipped his all-but-forgotten champagne. “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.”

“Then I’m going with you.” Cave declared. “If Jim’s in trouble, you’ll need all the help you can get.”

“And I’m going, too.” Shiera pronounced, in a tone that would brook no disagreement. “I’ve never been on an archaeological expedition before, and I think a trip up the Nile will be just the thing for Cyril, he’s going stir crazy---.”

“Absolutely not!” Cave objected. “Both you and your cousin are taking the first train back to Alexandria in the morning…” The two bickered, but Carter could tell that Shiera would not be easily dissuaded. She was a courageous and strong-willed young woman--- but then, how did he know that?

The guest of honor made his entrance soon after. Dr. Anton Hastor was a tall, impeccably-dressed man with an imposingly intense stare, an elderly gentleman with a well-kempt thin grey moustache. He diligently made the rounds of the room, escorted by a short Egyptian functionary in a fez, in a smooth, almost calculating manner.

When he had reached Carter’s little group, there was a feverish light in his eye that was utterly out of place in a civilized world.

“Professor Hall, we meet at last.” He crowed in a crisp, exuberant voice. “I’ve followed your scholarly exploits in the papers for years now.”

A bland smile on his face, Carter mumbled a polite greeting, unable to dispel an uneasy feeling.

“And surely you must be Shiera Saunders,” He turned to Cave and his fiancé, reaching almost greedily for the delicate hand the singer extended. “I was at the performance last night, my dear. The finest Amneris I have ever heard. You are an ornament to the Gotham Opera.” His lips lingered too long over her delicate fingers, his eyes gauging hers. Shiera faked a cough and withdrew her hand abruptly to cover her mouth. Hastor’s lips curled in a thin smile.

Cave cleared his throat pointedly and introduced himself.

Carter and Shiera exchanged meaningful looks, aware that Hastor was watching them out of the corner of his eye.

“You must be here because of Professor Rock’s discoveries.” Hastor directed toward Carter after Cave had finished speaking. “We’re all very proud of the work he’s done at Erdu.”

Carter blinked. “You know about Jim’s work at Erdu?”

“Know about it? I’m financing it.” Hastor told them smugly. “I think we may have found the lost tomb of Khufu at last.”

Carter downed the remainder of his champagne in a vain attempt to hide his ire. He had a sneaking suspicion this old man was trying to push his buttons.

“As a matter of fact, I’m sending some supplies and equipment up the Nile in the morning to check on Professor Rock’s progress…” His voice trailed off, and Cave took the bait.

“We were just talking about doing the same thing ourselves!”

“Marvelous!” Hastor exclaimed with a gleam in his eye. “You are more than welcome to attach yourselves to the expedition. I’m afraid I can’t join it myself, business in Cairo, you understand, but my steamer, the Lady Bast has ample accommodations… You will give Professor Rock my regards…?”

“We wouldn’t dream of imposing---.” Carter attempted to object, but was cut off by the old man.

“Nonsense! I won’t hear another word of it. I’m sure Professor Rock would be quite irate with me if I didn’t send you to him in his moment of glory. Besides, I have an ulterior motive,” He glanced sidelong at Shiera. “I was hoping that, while you are away, Ms. Saunders will pay for your passage with an impromptu performance for an appreciative admirer...?”

The polite smile that Shiera answered with did not reach her eyes, and Carter Hall had the distinct impression that they had all been subtly threatened and cunningly outmaneuvered.

In the days to come, he would be keeping a close eye on Dr. Anton Hastor.

Wadi Erdu
St Roch University Expedition Base Camp…

“Where the blazes is everyone?” Cave was the first to break the silence, squinting into the sun from atop his camel.

A dry wind blew through the dig site, stirring tent flaps and unattended field equipment, but that was all that stirred. Other than themselves, there were no other living souls in Wadi Erdu. Not only was the base camp deserted, but it seemed the team had left in some haste, as well, abandoning not just their equipment and personal belongings, but their finds as well. Carter slid from his camel and methodically searched the camp, finding it in great disarray.

“This place has been ransacked.” He proclaimed grimly.

“Nonsense.” Scoffed Captain Moldoff, the leader of Dr. Hastor’s relief mission, examining a piece of lapis lazuli jewelry left sitting atop a steamer trunk. “Thieves or Bedouin would have stolen everything of value, including these very nice pieces here. Professor Rock, however does have some explaining to do.”

Something bad had happened here, Carter felt it in his bones. He did not want to frighten the others, so he did not mention the rifle shell he spotted on the ground, and he hastily kicked up sand over the smear of blood that was nearby. But Moldoff did have a point: thieves or Bedouin would have taken everything to sell on the black market. Whoever scared away Jim and his team and ransacked the camp was looking for something in particular. Something valuable enough to kill for.

He awoke in darkness.

Every muscle hurt and joint ached, but amazingly he could feel no broken bones--- something like a thick bed of straw had cushioned his fall. He struggled to sit up, his head throbbing.

The lack of sunlight above him meant either many hours had passed and it was now night, or that the entrance had been sealed up.

He had no idea how long he must have been out, but he was sure that if the others were able to, they would have rescued him by now. Unless there were more of those black robed assassins about, and they had attacked the camp---.

Cave!

Carter repressed a surge of panic, hoping that his friend had not fallen prey to the ambush of the black-robed assassins! Cave was one of the most resourceful men Carter had ever known--- he had to trust he would be alright.

And right now, Carter had to worry about himself.

The lantern in his pack had broken in his fall, but he had a full box of stick matches. He struck one and gasped at what he saw. He was in a vast chamber, strewn with straw and roughly square, with walls painted in the hieroglyphs of the 15th Dynasty. An immense statue of Hawk-headed Horus dominated one side of the room, it’s eternal gaze seeming to beam down on Carter. He crept up to it and read the inscription on the base: Beware all that enter here with no reverence for Divine Horus in your heart, for this is his house, and his wrath is eternal.

This time, there was not far to fall. The chamber below was similarly covered in rushes, but Carter nevertheless arose with an aching groan. His torch was in the antechamber above, but he found that his eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and that he could see quite well.

Though he wasn’t sure if he could believe his eyes.

For in front of him was what he could only describe as a spaceship. It was roughly circular, with two wings that arced forward like a bird’s, like something out of a Flash Gordon comic strip. It was damaged in places, but other than that, perfectly preserved, sealed in this chamber since the days of the pharaohs.

Intuitively, Carter examined the knife in his hand and knew that the metal had come from the ship.

Nth Metal, a memory he never should have had, reminded him. Out of the sky-chariot from a world called Thanagar. It was the knife that had murdered him. Murdered him? But he was still alive…? No, not Carter Hall; Khufu. Khufu Ma-at Kha-Taar. It was Hath-Set’s knife--- he had stolen into the temple where they had hidden the sky-chariot, and used the rest of the Nth Metal to forge this horrible weapon…!

Khufu (no, Carter!) dropped the vile thing in disgust and spat on it. He murdered Chay-Ara, and he murdered me! Damned jackal, he will pay for this perfidy!

But he had, hadn’t he? Carter (no, Khufu!) remembered squeezing the life from the high priest’s throat, snapping his neck…

Yet I am born again, and so are they, my beloved and my enemy, Chay-Ara and Hath-Set, the three of us locked in an endless duel down the ages, until the cycle is broken at last. Chay-Ara was reborn as Shiera Saunders, of that much Carter was certain--- he knew it the first moment he saw her. As for Hath-Set… where did he lurk?

In his mind’s eye, he saw again, the wild flash of Dr. Anton Hastor’s gaze, and felt again the pulse of Hath-Set in his grip.

Hastor! And he had left Shiera alone with him in Cairo!
He didn’t know what Hastor’s game was, but he was determined to find out.

The heat was stifling, and his shirt was slick with sweat; he took it off and began searching for a way out of the room. He thought he could climb atop the space ship and leverage himself into the antechamber above, but the hole in the ceiling was just out of reach. He looked around for something else to stand on, spotting two oblong blocks in the dark across the chamber. His curiosity roused, he went over to them.

They were side by side and topped with golden effigies.
He had found at last the sarcophagi of Khufu and his beloved Chay-Ara.