I nodded. ‘Dr Dowson?’
‘I’ve located a suitable site where we can hide whatever we do manage to salvage. It’s reasonably near Alexandria and yet should remain completely undisturbed for nearly 2,000 years. You do understand that I can give no guarantees?’
‘We understand, Doctor. And this site is in Egypt, obviously. An unbreakable rule for the future, everyone. Whatever we rescue remains in that country. This is an Egyptian treasure. It stays in Egypt.
‘Professor Rapson, I believe you’ve been to Alexandria.’
He had too, cunningly disguised as an absent-minded academic. Not much disguise needed really. We’d just wrapped him in a sheet, wound him up, and pointed him at Alexandria.
‘I’ve managed to locate a source of earthenware jars I think will be appropriate, Max. I can nip back and conclude the deal whenever you’re ready.’
‘How are you paying?’ Payment had to be with contemporary material.
‘We have … induced … the Egyptology department at Thirsk to part with one or two small treasures.’
‘Excellent. Mrs Mack.’
‘Yes, Max.’ She sat with her scratchpad, all attention.
‘We need you to keep us fed and watered. Dr Dowson tells me Site B has no water supply of any kind. Because we don’t know how much material we’re going to be able to save, or how long it will take us to pack it all away in the desert heat, we have no idea for how long we need to be provisioned.’
The Chief said, ‘This shouldn’t be a problem. We can run a shuttle-pod service ferrying supplies and people as required.’
‘Good,’ I said. ‘Please can you two work out the details and let me know.’
I was being really unkind here. She was bouncing with excitement beside me. I put her out of her misery and grinned at her. ‘Mrs Enderby.’
She glowed.
‘We’ll need Wardrobe to provide fireproof clothing, canvas shelters to keep the sun off, and something appropriately sterile to wear when we work.
‘This is most important. Any archaeological find is subject to rigorous scrutiny. This goes double for what we’re about to do. People are going to be screaming, “fake,” if even the slightest detail is wrong. And if we screw this up then we’ll never be trusted again. It will finish us. We have to get this exactly right. So, it’s important to minimise contact with the scrolls as much as possible. All heads must be covered. Nothing to do with religion – or sun, come to that – we can’t afford to have people shedding hair all over these scrolls. Especially if that hair is covered in modern hair product. I don’t know what would survive over two millennia but I’m not taking the risk. We don’t need scientists wondering if the ancients really did use anti-dandruff shampoo. So, Mrs Enderby, Wardrobe’s most rigorous checks please. And no sun cream when handling the scrolls. Cotton gloves. We don’t know how the chemicals will react with the papyrus over such a long time.
‘Any questions before we move on to the schedule?’
They shook their heads, shifted their papers, cleared their scratchpads, and we moved on.
‘Professor Rapson, you and your team jump to Alexandria, Site A, to acquire the pots, tar-making materials, provisions, etc., taking them on to Doctor Dowson at Site B. You and your team are in Number Three. Mr Dieter will accompany you.
‘Dr Dowson, your team is in TB2 and you jump straight to Site B, the re-burial site, to set things up and wait for the Professor. Chief Farrell will accompany you.
‘The scroll-retrieval team, that’s my gang, are in Number One because it’s small. There are three teams – mine, with Markham and Van Owen; Mr Peterson’s with Schiller and Evans; and Miss Black’s, with Weller and Clarke. One historian, one Pathfinder, and one security guard to each team.
‘The medical team are in Number Two and the fire-fighting and security teams are in Numbers Five and Six. We all jump to Site A together and get cracking inside the library.
‘Once we’ve done the biz in the Serapeum, we take everything we’ve got to Site B. The medical team returns to St Mary’s with any seriously wounded.
‘We start unloading the scrolls and under instructions from Dr Dowson and the Professor, pack them into the pots, and seal them up. As I said, near sterile conditions to apply. We then bury them, wall them up, or drop them down a chasm; whatever Dr Dowson has decided is appropriate, to be found by the joint Thirsk/Egypt expedition being organised as we speak. We do the world’s most rigorous FOD plod and return home to wild acclaim.
‘Any questions or comments?
Professor Rapson said thoughtfully. ‘The Dead Sea Scrolls were sealed with tar, but I’m not so sure. Maybe pitch would be better.’
Doctor Dowson snorted. ‘How will you hold it together?’