*** 5,200 YEARS AGO ***
Upper Egypt
Scorpion, watching from within a palanquin as the slaves cleared a new area for the planting, turned to one of his body men, a man bearing the title Sole Companion.
“Asim, be sure to tell the taskmasters that we need proper drainage ditches. The seasonal rains are about to arrive and the crop will rot if it sits in too much water.”
“I will inform Jafari of your wishes.” Asim grinned, accentuating the ritual scars on both cheeks. “For a warrior king, you know much about farming.”
Scorpion shrugged. “My father was a farmer, and I’ve spent much time in the fields harvesting crops. And besides, as a king I must understand more than just the trade of war. Our supplies are running low after our battles with the Nubian devils in the south. We cannot maintain an army if we cannot feed them.”
Suddenly, a shadow fell over the land, and the bearers of the palanquin quailed with fear. Scorpion hopped out of the rapidly tilting litter. His bearers cried out and splayed themselves on the ground, hiding their heads.
Asim pointed to the sky. “Ancestors save us!” He prostrated himself.
The warrior king looked up. A dark circle grew in the sky, blocking the sun and turning the day into a strange twilight. The ground vibrated as the circle fell from the heavens.
But the warrior king did not quail or prostrate himself. He stood tall, showing no fear, remembering his father’s wisdom: Face your enemies without fear, and you will win most battles without ever having to fight.
The circle came closer, growing ever larger, chasing the slaves from the fields. When at last it came to rest on the freshly prepared land, Scorpion could see that it was immense—at least fifty paces across.
Asim scrambled back to his king’s side. “This must be an emissary or a sign from the gods. Are you not frightened?”
A door opened in the side of the giant disc, and light poured from within. Silhouetted in the doorway was a heavenly warrior. Yet as the warrior strode forth, exiting the disc, it was clear that this was no ordinary man. It was as though the stars had assembled to form a figure in the shape of a man, and a blinding light shone from within him.
The star-man hissed, and then a voice spoke within Scorpion’s head, deep and genderless.
“You are known as Scorpion, the leader of your people.”
It wasn’t a question; this strange emissary knew who he was. But what was this creature? Was he a god? If so, which one?
“I am—”
“Silence. I shall speak. I am the Builder.”
Scorpion flinched. He was unaccustomed to being addressed in such a rude manner.
“It has been determined that your species has achieved a level of advancement that might, in the future, become a danger to others. Therefore, your people, and those who descend from them, are to be tested.”
The Builder stepped closer. He was tall, perhaps twice Scorpion’s height, though it was hard to be certain since he was giving off smoke. The fumes had a thick smell, but it was unlike any incense the warrior king had ever experienced.
Scorpion tried to back away, but he found himself unable to move.
The Builder held up his hand, revealing an object shaped like a cross with a loop on top. He touched the object to Scorpion’s forehead, and the king felt a burning sensation race through his body.
“You and yours are now responsible for what happens to your people. The tests are being constructed.”
Images appeared in Scorpion’s mind. He saw other discs descending to the land, sending bright lights at the desert floor beneath them. Sand exploded away from the light, leaving behind hidden chambers, tunnels, and more. What would take a thousand men a year or more to dig was being done in mere minutes.
Most discs descended in places he did not recognize. There were jungles, giant lakes, open fields. And in every location, the same activities took place. Lights. Digging. Building. Scorpion recognized the location of only one of the discs; thanks to a nearby landmark, he knew it was in recently conquered Nubian territory.
Then the Builder’s body glowed even brighter and sent a spear of light launching forth. It slammed into a grazing bull, and the animal began to change its form. Its rear legs elongated, its front legs took on the form of muscled arms, and it stood upright, with an intelligent gleam in its eyes.
In his mind, Scorpion saw similar light-spears striking other animals in other places. And each time, the animal was elevated from its current form.
The warrior king looked up at the strange creature who’d come from the heavens. “I don’t understand. What are these tests? What happens if we pass? What happens if we fail?”
The Builder exhaled a long hiss. “Your future if you pass.”
The warrior king saw new images in his mind. Large pyramids sprouted along the horizon—monuments to future pharaohs. The people of the marshes and the people of the river unified, and all prospered. The flooding of the Nile was controlled, and new chariots raced across the desert without need of oxen to pull them. Cities grew, and were filled with people smiling, trading, building, farming, and raising families. Some of them flew in metal birds that took them to other places across great oceans.
“And if you fail . . .”
The metal birds fell out of the sky. Cracks opened up in the earth, swallowing entire cities whole. Impossibly large boulders streaked down from the heavens, slammed into the ground, and sent rolling waves of fire across all of the Black Land and other unknown places. The light from the sun grew dark, and the world began to freeze. Crops withered and died, and the cities that had been filled with happiness were now crumbling remains, their people dead or scattered to the winds.
The warrior king’s expression grew grim. This responsibility weighed heavily on his shoulders.
And then the images in Scorpion’s mind vanished—and so did the Builder. The door to the giant disc closed, and it rose up from the field, leaving not even the faintest impression on the land to indicate that it had ever been there.
Asim blinked with surprise, then turned to the warrior king. “Indeed. No army can survive without food.”
Scorpion looked curiously at his body man. “Asim?”
Asim frowned and gazed around himself, looking suddenly shaken. “I apologize, my king. You were inspecting the preparation of the field and now . . . I . . . I feel I’ve lost some time. Forgive me if I did not respond appropriately.”
Scorpion felt a cold prickle of fear at the base of his neck. His body man seemed unaware that anything out of the ordinary had happened. The entire experience was wiped from his mind.
Only a god could do such a thing.
The slaves who’d run from the field looked even more confused as they came running back, as did the bearers of the king’s palanquin. It was clear that none of them had any recollection of what had just happened.
Scorpion patted Asim on the shoulder. “Peace. Do not worry. Let Jafari know about the proper drainage. In the meantime, I have to travel south to a place near the stone circle.”
“The ruins?”
The warrior king nodded. “Unless I have gone mad, there is something waiting for me there.”
Scorpion walked into the tunnel, saw the scribes busily painting on the walls, and smacked his hands together with a loud clap. “Make sure you capture every detail I described on the tunnel walls. If we don’t properly document the bargain that the gods have made with us, our people will be doomed.”
Ever since his encounter with the Builder, the warrior king’s senses had been heightened. He heard every soft sweep of the brush as the scribes did their work. Every breath they took. And as one scribe whispered to another, the warrior king heard what they believed to be a private discussion.
“Do you think he really talked to a god?”
“Be quiet—he can probably hear us. There are those who think the Scorpion King has become one with the gods.”
“But these messages we are writing . . . are our people really being tested as he described?”
“All I know is if the Scorpion King says it is so, it is so. I don’t question those who claim to have received messages directly from the gods, and neither should you.”
The warrior king sensed Asim approaching before the man uttered his first syllable. “What troubles you, Asim?”
“Your Highness, the heroes you asked for . . . I have collected them. They are waiting aboveground.”
Scorpion nodded confidently, but he was concerned. The instructions he had been given were clear enough. If the heroes survived, all was good. But if they did not survive, it would be time to collect another set of heroes.
And he had no idea how long his people had to find the right set of heroes. The Builder had not specified a timeframe for the test. Perhaps it didn’t have to be completed during Scorpion’s lifetime; perhaps his son, or his son’s son, might be the one to find the heroes to save humanity.
“And that’s why I’m having it all written down,” Scorpion muttered to himself.
“What?” Asim asked.
Scorpion shook his head. “Never mind. Just bring the heroes into the tunnel. It’s time to begin.”