Egypt on Anur Khufos, part 8

 Ben’s group and the guardsmen were joined in the hallway by dozens of Thep Khufans and assorted aliens, most of them from this planetary system. Questions still amassed in the Tennysons’ minds over this and how this planet worked as a whole; and they were rather disappointed that no one had stopped to let them ask. Gwen figured she’d ask one of them personally after dinner.

 When they arrived in the mess hall, only one table was free for the group of eight. On it, rather than being forced to wait in line with trays, several covered platters had been set for whoever would sit there, complete with elegant-looking, gold-colored tablecloths.

 Raht reminded him, “We only have our food served this way for special occasions, such as this.”

 “Glad this is one of them,” Marnor smiled as he sat down.

 When the Tennysons lifted the covers on their plates, they were startled to see how foreign this food appeared, in varying shades of brown and not easy to tell what kind of food each piece was supposed to be, not to mention the hefty servings each plate held. Gwen guessed it had to be an assortment of meat chunks and vegetables with some kind of seasoning on top, just not the kind they were used to. Ben had flashbacks to when he was on Slix Vigma’s gladiator ship, forced to fight for his life while shackled to Kevin 11, and the only food they had was a smelly purple slime. But to Ben’s surprise, this meal smelled okay when he took a good whiff.

 Max dined cheerfully, but his grandchildren required some coaxing, saying, “It’s rude to refuse food given from others.”

 When they did, having to get used to the utensils, the kids discovered it was actually quite savory, if a bit spicy. Fortunately, water was provided for everyone.

 Elastamun piped up after swallowing a bite, “You know, this actually reminds me of Fattah, a traditional Egyptian dish served on Earth.”

 “The parallels continue, I see,” Ja’Kaal chuckled.

 A few more bites into his plate, Grandpa Max looked up and smirked, “You should’ve seen the kind of meals I made for my grandkids.”

 Ben gulped, and Gwen interrupted immediately, “You...you don’t need to know the details, really!”

 The conversation didn’t go much further than that during the meal, aside from the occasional interests in Earth cuisine and questions as to how the Thep Khufans were able to get food like this.

-----

 Once the feast was over, Ja’Kaal asked his guests as he stood, “Is there anything else you wish to see before lights out?”

 Gwen took the chance and asked, “Is there anything here about this culture we can look at? We...didn’t really get to ask about that in the briefing room.”

 “As a matter of fact,” Raht answered, “We have a library two rooms over. Just follow me.”

 They looked back at Max and the others, and he told his grandkids, “You go on ahead, I think me and...Mr. Amun’ll be turning in early.”

 Elastamun laughed over what he was just called, “I had never been called that before, but that is a nice...um, nickname to go by.”

 “I would like to join you as well, Max,” Nefterti asked. “The more sleep I have, the better my body will be for tomorrow.”

 “Count me in with Gwen,” Ben joined in, “I’d like to know why people think I’m some god.”

 “Very well, we will see you at sunrise, then,” Ja’Kaal nodded before leaving with Marnor, Max, and the scribe for the dormitory along with everyone else.

 The young Tennysons followed Raht down the main corridor to another room, this one marked by a sign reading “LIBRARY”. Inside was a hexagonal chamber filled with cells containing thick scrolls in tube-shaped cases. A desk sat in the middle, with what looked like an orrery suspended from the ceiling.

 Gwen started as the doors shut behind the group, “So, first question, sir: Why exactly does this place look and work so much like Ancient Egypt, except with advanced technology?”

 “That is a complicated question, young girl,” Raht remarked. He turned to a small clay figure on a pedestal, among others between each column of cells, held it in his hand, and commanded, “Shabti, locate records on our history between the end of the Ectonurites’ reign, and today.”

 “Your wish is my command,” the little figure croaked before hopping up into the honeycomb of knowledge. The kids watched as it pulled two scrolls out of a pair of cells, making sure that the others didn’t fall.

 Then it stuffed the two scrolls down a tube running the height of each divider between the columns, popping out at the bottom like a bank deposit tube.

 “Thank you, that will be all,” the tactician nodded to the clay figure as he opened one of the cases. Unrolling the scroll as the shabti returned to where it started, he paused, lowered the scroll and asked his guests, “Hmm, would you like to hear a story? This scroll has much to tell,”

 “Yes, sir,” Gwen nodded, “That’d be great!”

 “Then please sit, if you may.” Raht gestured to a set of chairs in the middle of the room, circling a round table.

 Sitting at one end while the Tennysons sprang for a couch, almost arguing over which side they wanted first, Raht mentally groaned at how immature these visitors acted at times. Then he scanned the ancient Thep Khufan text until finding an appropriate place to start, “Ah, here it is. Well, put simply, long ago, our society actually was as...young as your Ancient Egypt, that was our first Golden Age. Back then, we worshipped the ancient Gods. Ra, Horus, Osiris, and the rest. But then it changed when the Ectonurites enslaved every planet in the Anur System. We knew not how or why they did it, but, led by Zs’Skayr, they dominated every facet of our society, forcing us to commit to life the way they saw it. They destroyed our temples, erased our murals and hieroglyphs, darkened the skies, and murdered everyone who spoke out against them. We couldn’t fight them with our technology of the time, for we knew that unless they were exposed to concentrated light, they would eventually live on through us or some other conduit using their resilient genetic memory. It was what you would call the Dark Ages, though dark in every sense of the word. We took what we could carry and hid it underground like we do, for the day we would be freed.”

 The Tennysons could imagine what Raht was telling them, and it sent chills down their spines thinking about it.

 “It was so bad that even the pharaohs, sons of Ra, were removed from rulership, to be replaced by Zs’Skayr’s disciples, often mentally torturing our people to keep them in line. Ectonurites live longer than we do, so you can imagine how horrible that would be.”

 Ben tried to keep his stomach acid from returning. To be semi-possessed by Ghostfreak is one thing, but for a whole civilization to be enslaved under this kind would be a waking nightmare.

 Then Raht switched to the second scroll, “Then one day, for one reason or another, the Ectonurites’ rule stopped. Our best theory is that without Zs’Skayr’s will, his kind fell into disarray and retreated back to Anur Phaetos, their home world. But that’s just a theory. Shortly after this, trade opened up between the other planets, and the Transylians helped us recover by giving us some of the advanced technology they had kept secret until then, as a gesture of goodwill. This way, we could repair our civilization with greater knowledge in case of another disaster. We even built stargates for fast travel between the planets, and our old culture returned over time as well. However, because it had not been practiced in so long, and due to how little we were able to save, our religion is not what it once was, and some people do not even believe in it anymore.”

 Gwen piped up, “Of course, just like how Egyptians didn’t all tell the same myths between towns, or how the Christians removed all the pagan temples when they took over Egypt.”

 “Quite,” the tactician nodded. “This...prophecy surrounding you, Ben, was a simple story told to give us hope,” he chuckled, “I am sure no one would have expected the Omnitrix to end up in the hands of a human child.”

 “Vilgax certainly didn’t,” Ben chuckled, “You should’ve seen his face when he found me.”

 As Raht finished with that scroll and sent the pair back up the tube, he finished, “Well, that’s the history we have on the subject. Anything else you wish to know?”

 “Yes,” Gwen answered, “I’m curious about these cloaks and headgear you guys are sporting while some aren’t. Grandpa mentioned that earlier today.”

 “Oh, that is easy,” Raht smiled as he stretched his right arm for one of the lower cells and pulled out a scroll on his own. Opening this one, he showed them a diagram on one portion and explained, “The diagram shown here describes a basic Thep Khufan and their clothing. You see, this clothing is only available to upper class beings, and the color of their cloak and the shape of their headdress is relative to what their rank and occupation is. Most of these are affiliated with the pharaoh, such as Elastamun. I believe this scroll has a legend here...yes,” he checked that part of the scroll, and continued, “Such as Dark Red for Archivists, Red for combat, Purple in Administrative work, etc. If I recall correctly, Ja’Kaal used to be in the pharaoh’s military regime, who wear blue cloaks, and the pharaoh’s vizier shares his headdress.”

 “Interesting,” Gwen answered. “So why do some people not have these?”

 “It’s a class divide, I’m afraid. Some people simply cannot make enough money to live as we do. One of the amnenties my people own is sarcophagi to sleep in, but lower-class citizens can’t afford them.”

 “That sounds awful,” Ben whistled.

 “Like how some people are treated on Earth, actually.” Gwen lamented.

 “Any other topics to discuss?”

 “One last thing: how do you know magic?” Gwen reached into her pocket and showed Raht her pilfered spellbook. “I stole this from an evil sorceress on Earth, and since I have it, I can cast any spell in it even though I didn’t really train for magic or anything.”

 Raht leafed through the spellbook with curiosity. Although he had a translator on as well, he couldn’t make much sense out of the incantations inside. Handing it back to Gwen, Raht described, “Well, that information is mostly secretive, but let’s just say, we learned it from the Gods.”

 Ben wanted to laugh, but stopped at the last minute, considering it might be offensive.

 “I think that will be all, sir,” Gwen finished with a bow.

 “Well then, I suppose we’d best turn in for the night,” Raht nodded as he returned the third scroll. “Tomorrow will be a very important day.”

 “No kidding,” Ben muttered under his breath.

-----

 Having to change out of their dirty Earth clothes for simple white tunics reserved for children their age, Ben and Gwen entered the dormitory, surprised to find that instead of conventional beds, the bunks were simple sarcophagi, set at a 45-degree angle for sleeping.

 Raht whispered, “Your grandfather is in that one," gesturing to one coffin to the left of two open ones, "I heard he asked to have the two coffins next to him reserved for you. I will be sleeping upstairs with my colleagues,” he pointed to a higher floor with more lavishly decorated coffins. As he ascended the stairs to that level, he finished, “Sleep well, my friends. You will need it.”

 With no more to do, Ben and Gwen softly trod over to their sarchophagi and shut the lids, finding there to be a pillow at one end, and holes in the front to breathe and see out into the room where the eyes and mouth would be, not that there was much to look at with the dim yellow lighting.

 Ben and Gwen felt tense about this situation, for this was the first time in their entire lives that they had slept not only outside the Rust Bucket during their summer vacation, but on another planet entirely. These Thep Khufans were friendly and generous, but it still troubled them all the same.

 Gwen, after clearing her thoughts, actually managed to get a good night’s sleep, dreaming of walking through Ancient Egypt as it was, thousands of years ago. It was beautiful.

 Ben, on the other hand, was not so fortunate. In his pod, he tossed and turned, something from the back of his mind coming back to haunt him. He dreamed of standing in the desert terrain of this world, the sky black with thunderclouds like the world outside the Matrix. All around him, mummies were being whipped or mentally abused by the phantom-like Ectonurites. UFOs used death rays to smash stone temples and buildings from above. Disobedient aliens were burned alive, shot with projectiles, or rendered brain-dead by the ghosts. Then he noticed his watch sounding an alarm he’d never heard before. Flashing orange, the faceplate cracked like glass, and out poured the spectral figure of Ghostfreak himself.

 “Finally, I am free once more!” His raspy Steven Blum-esque voice screeched. “And now, nothing will stand in my way! Goodbye, Ben Tennyson!”

 Ben’s entire vision filled with the alien ghost’s visage, his body fazing over his until the boy could feel his skin and flesh growing colder and number every second. He tried to scream, but nothing came out, as often happened in nightmares. At the very last second, just when Ben thought he was truly dead, he woke with a jolt, still in his sleeping pod.