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(Karnak, Egypt, January 17, 1458 BC)

There’s something I have to do

Bren held out the hat to her friend, the same hat that she’d first seen in the small, underground bunker during the 1918 war in France. It seemed like lifetimes ago, so much had happened since then. The hat, made of what looked like leather, but softer, was similar to Bren’s, but not as elaborate. It sported goggles like hers, but the mechanism on the side was smaller, less intricate. However, the writing, faintly visible, was of the same language.

Looking into Bren’s eyes, then over to 3, Hatshepsut reached out her hands, then withdrew, declaring, “There’s something I have to do first.”

“Right now?!” Bren said eyebrows raising, while dust fell in little puffs off the walls as the priests outside battered the doors. “What could you possibly have to do right now?!”

Moving a few feet away into the center of the sanctuary, putting her hands to her head, Hatty suddenly began pounding the air with her fists as she bent over, screaming at the top of her lungs so loudly, that the noise on the other side of the doors stopped to listen.

Grabbing the nearest holy plate, she smashed it on the ground, then the next. Pots flew against the opposite wall, bursting into shards on impact, as she shouted obscenities all the while at Amun-Ra and every other Egyptian deity she could remember.

Bren, still holding the hat out, watched her flailing about, wanting to do something, but dared not. She looked at 3, who looked back and shrugged his shoulders. After a few moments, Hatty stopped, wiping her eyes, drying her hands on her dirty dress.

3 watched his lover standing amidst the mess. Hatshepsut then looked up at the veiled idol in the back of the room. Face contorting again into rage, she walked carefully through pieces of plates to the stone base, ripped down the veil, then turned and lifted a large, heavy candlestick with a grunt. Raising it high into the air, she slammed it down with such force her feet left the ground, letting out a ferocious yell.

Didn’t see that coming

Ouch didn’t see that coming… Bren thought.

3 winced, holding the door comfortably against over a dozen men who had resumed their assault with the butt of the palm on the other side.

Setting the candle base down, Hatshepsut walked back over, straightening her dress, then standing as tall as her diminutive height would allow, declared, “Now, I’m ready.”

Seeing her friend place the hat on her head, Bren couldn’t help but remember the first time she’d seen Doc tip it into existence in the bunker. How, when Bren had been so distressed, she’d talked to her about grace and what it meant to be a Seraph Hunter. Smiling, Brenzel thought, now, that’s my Doc. Then, spying the broken pieces of the statue’s member behind Hatty, she mused, I really thought it’d be bigger.

Seraphs of a feather

As two blue feathers appeared in her hand, Bren looked up and mouthed, thank you, Dove. Giving one to Hatty, she instructed, “Place the feather into the hat like so when I do, and hold on to my hand tightly – this will feel…a little strange.”

Open door

“Again! with all your might!” Hapu yelled, shouting himself hoarse as the men rammed the end of the tree trunk into the golden doors again and again. This time, unexpectedly, the large hinged panels gave way without resistance, causing the battering gang of priests to trip and fall all over each other.

“Make way! Make way!” Hapu commanded to the pile of moaning priests, as he sent armed men before him. He peered into the darkness, “Bring torches!”

Finally, stepping into the sanctuary, he looked around – no one! Not a soul! “What foul magic is this?!” Hapu cursed out loud. “There’s no one here! That’s impossible…impossible!”

Oh no!

Wemi, fearing the worst for Pharaoh and Hathor, slipped in to see also, feeling relieved as he, too, realized they were gone. Then he spied Amun-Ra, saying in a trembling voice, “Oh no…noooo!” Weaving in and out of the gathering crowd he crawled the last few feet on the ground letting out a blood curdling “ah….eeh!” seeing the carnage, causing everyone to look.

Spreading the bottom of his apron, careful not to touch any of the holy bits, he used only his sleeve to brush them into a small pile. Gently he swept them onto his makeshift basket formed by the bottom of his apron…he stood, trembling.


Moving as quickly as people would allow, Wemi came towards High Priest Hapu, saying in a high-pitched, plaintive voice, “Your holiness! We are all doomed! How will Amun-Ra procreate!”

Exhausted and frustrated, Hapu thought, what now? seeing his servant approach. Wemi, edging near, opened up his makeshift basket, showing his master. Looking down, Hapu staggered back in shock, then looked up at the desecrated idol, his hand grabbing his chest near his heart, for there in Wemi’s lap, lay Amun-Ra’s shattered male member in three pieces. Face turning red, eyes bulging, Hapu screamed, falling to his knees, voice echoing again and again throughout the Karnak temple, “Hat…shep…sut!!”