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Part I
The New World

Prologue Part I

This is the story of how my loving daughter Amandla changed history. In the course of her story, you will follow her as she moves from a renowned juridical scholar and innovative member of the international bar, to counterespionage operative for one of the world’s leading business concerns, to a very happy wife and mother. This tale is a recounting of her personal valor, and of the great courage of her family and colleagues in the face of almost insurmountable problems and obstacles; and patently evil, monstrous adversaries. It is also a wonderful adventure in romance. For the story, although placed in the context of large geopolitical and macroeconomic risk and conflict, is primarily a fairytale about how a princess met her prince and lived happily ever after in their castle of love. It is the story of how my Amandla met her husband, her spiritual and practical soul mate, Dr. Horus Abydos, and the family they created.

It all started when I was given the chance to cover this board meeting in the beautiful, romantic tropical islands of the Seychelles.

The Board

It is Saturday, May 25, 2030. My name is Richard Mansa Wright. I was born in what used to be called Tampa Bay, Florida, but is now called Seminole Bay District.

Seminole Bay District is the capital of the new Northern Federation, which is comprised of the USA, Canada, Mexico, and all the countries of what was called Central America and the Caribbean. The Western Hemisphere consists of two federations: the Northern and the Southern, the Southern Federation being composed of the old South American states and surrounding islands.

I am the feature editor for Global Commerce electronic magazine embarking on the biggest assignment of my life. I am preparing to cover what promises to be the single hottest corporate event since the realignment of world business in 2013. It is the showdown board meeting of Kemetic, Inc.

Kemetic is the most profitable component of the Delta Dynastic Group. It has an annual net profit averaging 11 trillion in Africa’s currency the ture-cedi, in old USA money, 27 trillion dollars a year, about 31 trillion in the new North American money the dollar-peso.

Kemetic is based in beautiful tropical Mahe, the main island group of the Seychelles Islands. As many of you know, Kemetic, Inc. is an international business concern trading globally. Kemetic was the commercial vanguard in the big push for comprehensive continental integration. It was their clout and financial capacity that tipped the scales in favor of a strong central government apparatus to direct African affairs.

While on the plane, I couldn’t help speculating about the tremendous career possibilities this assignment represents for me. I was thinking how much this could mean to my family back in the District. This would surely put me at the top of the promotion list. Indeed, every Global Commerce editor and feature reporter wanted this assignment precisely for that reason. This meeting promises not only to be historic, but absolutely sensational.

On my way to the Kemetic corporate headquarters, I traveled through a housing development constructed in a style that is typical for the Seychelles and Africa generally. The housing architecture is built on the traditional housing motifs of the people, using contemporary design and construction innovations. Europe has homes in the Tudor, Georgian, Queen Anne, bungalow, and ranch styles; Africa has its Ghanaian, Zimbabwean, Zulu, Tembe, Kush, and Sankore styles.

The social infrastructures are also well developed; health, sanitation, protection, education, culture, recreation, and sports facilities abound. Homelessness, pandemic diseases, starvation, famine, and hunger no longer exist in the new prosperous Africa, except as haunting memories of the not too distant past. Everywhere there are local organizations, women’s groups, children’s circles, hobby groups, philosophy associations, cultural organizations; everything you could possibly imagine humans doing or being.

The road and mass transportation systems are excellent, and the way they have organized their tourist industry has been a plus for the population. Most visitors are from other parts of a now prosperous Africa. Statistics show that 95% of African households have significant discretionary income, and that tourism in other parts of Africa is a favored recreational and educational way of using this income.

Literacy (in at least one language) across Africa has grown to over 83 % since the economic victory. I have read that virtually every house is connected to the wireless net, and they are said to be avid web surfers. For example, many of the people are active in web content and web development circles.

The progress Africa has made in a few short years is absolutely phenomenal and is the business story of the 21st century. The great prosperity in Africa has made a world of difference in the quality of life of black people throughout the world.

Right smack in the middle of the Mahe main business area stands the sparkling new building complex that houses the corporate headquarters of Kemetic, Inc. These buildings were designed and constructed to resemble 21st century versions of the ancient Temples of the Nile valley. The whole complex is completely computerized. All the functions of the buildings: telecommunications, plumbing, lighting, heating, air conditioning, elevators, sound system, time tracking, and so on are controlled by a central computer system. This computer system itself has triple redundancy; it is backed-up by three systems precisely like itself. The energy system of the building has double redundancy.

The complex utilizes both wind and solar power as sources of energy. There is a battalion of windmills in the rear of the main building named for Pharaoh Akhenaton, and the roof of that particular building is divided between a series of helicopter pads and row after row of photo voltaic cells for the collection of solar energy.

When I finally arrived at the Kemetic, Inc. corporate headquarters, I entered the main building and walked up to the security desk. Sitting behind the desk was this pleasant young lady who smiled and greeted me with a cheerful, but business-like salutation.

“Good morning sir, how may I help you?”

I identified myself and showed her my press credentials, plus my official invitation to cover the board meeting. She turned to her computer and entered my name and my invitation ID number code. After a brief processing interlude, she smiled at me again and announced that the computer had verified my credentials. She told me to walk straight ahead and take any of the four express elevators directly to the Penthouse floor. The meeting was already in session.

“Already in session...what rotten luck,” I muttered to myself. Then I thought, “Well, if you hadn’t stopped for a drink at the airport terminal and perhaps if you had taken a cab rather than the public conveyance van….”

I got into the first express elevator I saw. There was some music akin to a combination of reggae, classical R&B, West African High-life, and Soweto jazz piped into the elevator. It was very soft and low-key, not enough to be intrusive, but enough to relax and soothe the soul. I pressed the P button for penthouse and I was on my way to the top.

When I reached the penthouse floor, I couldn’t help noticing the terrible roar (which I took to be several people shouting at each other) emanating from the direction of the boardroom. I crossed my fingers and prayed that I had not missed anything too significant. As I walked down the luxuriously carpeted hall, I observed that there were portraits of many great African personalities. Historical figures like President Dr. Kwame Nkrumah, President Seku Ture, Prime Minister Patrice Lumumba, Madame Cisse, Ms. Winnie Madikizela-Mandela, Marcus Garvey, Omowale Malcolm X, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Kwame Ture, and many others adorned the walls.

When I arrived at the outer foyer of the boardroom itself, I was confronted by another security official. This time it was a young male of about 22 years of age. He was equally as polite as the young lady on the main floor, but you immediately sensed that his job was more paramilitary. He asked for my media credentials, which I handed to him. Checking the credentials amounted to him quickly comparing my features to that of the picture on the credentials. Satisfied that I was the person in the photo, he next asked to see my invitation. He took the invitation and scanned it on a computer-based device that determines, by use of a microchip embedded on the invitation, whether the invitation is valid.

When the system returned a positive response to this scanning, he looked up at me, smiled broadly and said, “Go right in, sir, the meeting is already in session.”

I tentatively opened the huge ebony wood doors of the meeting room and entered. It was a well-appointed meeting room. A gigantic wall size computer screen dominated the room’s interior. It displayed the trade activity of Kemetic’s subsidiaries around the world; the data in this system is updated every ten minutes.

The room also boasted a bank of communications devices and personal computers. The round table and chairs where the board members sat was in the very center of the room. There was a wet bar (stocked primarily with fruit and vegetable juices, sodas, teas, various African and Asian beers, wines and similar drinks); plus a full-size kitchen (equipped with a refrigerator, freezer, oven-range, storage, and pantry cabinets).

The press gallery was off to the side, sort of like a jury box. There were only a few other commercial media people invited to cover this meeting, and they were all there:

An elderly Asian woman who I assumed represented the Sino-Nippon press consortium

A representative of the Pan-African Business Weekly

A writer from the Brazil-based La Prensa Negocio (although people continued to speak Portuguese in Brazil, Spanish was the language that dominated the Southern Federation)

A young woman writer for the European Union’s World Market magazine

I walked directly to my assigned seat and desk. Each of us was provided with an outlet for our laptops, as well as earphones to hear the translation of the conversation into our native language.

All the Kemetic board members (and major stockholders) were present. The members included:

Dr. Osiris Abydos, Chairman of the Board

Dr. Isis Abydos, Vice Chair (wife of Dr. Osiris Abydos)

Dr. Horus Abydos, VP for General Management and Chief of Operations (son of Drs. Osiris & Isis Abydos)

Dr. Set Sheitan, the VP for Marketing (brother of Dr. Osiris Abydos)

Nephthys Sheitan, VP for Finance (wife of Dr. Set Sheitan and sister of Dr. Isis Abydos)

Dr. Thoth Luxor, VP for Planning, Research and Development

The Honorable Candace Maat Luxor VP for Legal Matters (wife of Dr. Thoth Luxor)

As a good journalist, I’d done a lot of research on these individuals. I knew, for example, that Nephthys is said to be deeply in love with her sister’s husband Osiris. From all indications, she takes advantage of every opportunity to advertise this fact, much to the displeasure of her husband Dr. Sheitan and her sister Isis.

I also knew from my research that Set has been trying for some years to discredit his brother in the eyes of the African and larger business world. Then he could seize control of the corporation and its many subsidiaries. These two factors were the basis of the growing tension inside the board and among the various factions in the business. Indeed, Dr. Sheitan has made it abundantly clear that any friend of his brother is his mortal enemy and should expect to be treated in that manner.

Of course, everyone knows that the Drs. Abydos were instrumental in setting up educational institutions, particularly polytechnics, universities, vocational and technical colleges, and research institutions, especially those dedicated to cybernetics. They created efficient, environmentally sound, and dependable industries for the mass production and distribution of fundamental foodstuffs; as well as the provision of clothing, vehicles, and communication systems for both military and civilian purposes.

They participated in the development of the command and control systems used in the new society, helped developed policies to regulate commercial and industrial activities, including the public ownership of essential properties such as mines, utilities, and so forth. Their organization also helped draft the Constitution of the new state, and financed over 13 percent of the work necessary for the creation of effective governmental and related institutions.

Osiris and Isis Abydos developed very effective public relations, advertising, promotions, and advocacy literature promulgating the overwhelming benefits of the continental government. It was they who popularized Dr. Kwame Nkrumah’s axiom expounding the link between the inherent macroeconomic and microeconomic advantages associated with comprehensive continental integration.

The main agenda item of the board meeting is Osiris’ proposed business trip to the Middle East to meet with the political and commercial leadership of the United Arab States. In his absence, Osiris has proposed that Isis assume all day-to-day responsibility for running the business. Set opposes both the trip and the management regency of Isis.

My research has revealed that Set has significant, although minority, support inside of Kemetic, some support in Africa at large, and a great deal of support from the former colonial countries of the European Union. The support from each of these elements is based on their own interest. For example, the EU antagonists fear that an alliance between Kemetic and like-minded Arab business groupings would further reduce the value of the European currency (the euro).

The pro-Set elements in Africa are generally the holdovers from the old system, that is, individuals and institutions owing their allegiance to the former European colonial countries. The pro-Set forces inside the corporation represent those elements whose livelihood depends on the success of Dr. Sheitan.

So, to summarize, all the shouting I heard boiled down to a simple proposition. Dr. Osiris Abydos proposed that he, Dr. Thoth Luxor, and The Honorable Candace Maat Luxor lead a delegation to the capital of the United Arab States in Jerusalem, Palestine, to discuss a business alliance between Kemetic and Moharer Enterprises. As Vice Chair, Dr. Isis Abydos would run all Kemetic affairs in his absence, while having proper consultation with the remaining board members.

All the shouting I heard was a result of Dr. Sheitan’s violent opposition to the trip, to the assumption of management powers by Mrs. Abydos, and to the fact that even his wife Nephthys supported the proposal, leaving him with no one on the board supporting his position. Out voted 6 to 1, all that was left to Dr. Sheitan was shouting…or so it appeared at the time of the meeting.

After The Board Meeting

I was very happy to be in the Seychelles. I loved the beaches, the palm trees, and the wonderful people, but I still wanted to get back to my wife and family. I filed my story electronically from my hotel last night, and now I hurried to the airport to catch my return flight. Exciting as the world of mega-business with its heady mixture of high finance, intra-board intrigue, and inner-circle triangles might be, I really prefer the relative peace of my idiotic, noisy, nosey neighbors, and school children on the rampage. I thought to myself that it would be wonderful to see my family again.

At the airport, I purchased a copy of the Mahe Journal. Quickly rifling through its business section, I found the story I was looking for: High-Level Kemetic Team to Visit the Middle East.

I was just about to read the story, when I was paged over the airport public address system. I wondered who would be paging me here? I thought to myself, “No one really knows me here, and in fact, as far as I know, very few people even know that I am here.” So I assumed it was either my boss back at the office with some insane request, or there was some problem with my family.

With growing trepidation, I rushed over to the courtesy phones. I picked up the receiver and a woman’s voice greeted me in halting English.

“Hello, Mr. Wright, this is Dr. Isis Abydos.”

I was stunned, almost speechless, why it was Dr. Isis Abydos! The great lady herself was paging me. I couldn’t believe it! I stammered out a response of some sort, at least I think I did. At any rate, she told me she believed her husband was in grave danger, and she needed to meet with me.

“Me,” I said, “why me?”

She answered, “I have followed your career, and I know you to be an honest and thorough journalist. I need someone who is not directly involved with Kemetic to help me investigate what has happened. Frankly, I fear for his life.”

I suddenly felt that the fate of Dr. Abydos and her husband was linked to my own. She continued speaking.

“I will make sure your time is well compensated. I need someone I can trust that they don’t know. Please, say you will help me…help us...please...and you must tell no one what I have shared with you.”

Well, how could I refuse? From what I knew of her and her family, they were not only astute business people, but also great innovators. So, before I knew what I was saying, I told her, “Of course, I would be delighted to work with you to resolve this matter.”

“Fine, that’s wonderful, Mr. Wright, you don’t know how much this means to me. Here is my private number; it is a secure line: 0-555-7098. Call me and we will arrange a mutually convenient meeting time and place. Thank you again, brother.”

Brother she called me. One of the greatest African woman scientists and business people in the world called me brother. That alone was worth the effort.

The first thing I did was to call my wife and tell her that the board meeting, although adjourned, would have to be reconvened, and I would have to stay over. I told her that I couldn’t tell her precisely what I would be doing, but hoped she would trust me. I could tell from the tone of her voice that she didn’t quite believe me, but because I had never cheated on her, she decided to give me the benefit of the doubt. However, she gave this with deep reluctance. I asked her to kiss the children for me and make my excuses to the Lyons, with whom we were scheduled to have dinner the following weekend. I also told her that I would miss Agnes’ birthday party; she was celebrating her tenth birthday. I practically swallowed my tongue when I said this; I knew how important this was to Agnes and my wife.

Marguerite, that’s my wife’s name, sort of coughed and asked me, “Well, Boo Dear, when are you coming home? I mean do you know when you will be home?”

She called me Boo. She only used that term when it was really, really, really important to her. I hesitated, but finally told her that I wasn’t sure how long this would take. Believe me that didn’t sit well with her, but it had to be done, and I couldn’t tell her the truth, at least, not yet. I was beginning to feel like some sort of secret agent or something like that. I must admit; I was a little excited.

Next I called my office and spoke to my boss Henry LeRoi. He is a real jackass, but a great news hound. He could smell a great story thousands of miles away just as easily as one right under his nose.

Henry said, “Great, but if this turns out to be some lame ploy to get a free vacation, I will have your ass in a sling…and you can kiss your whole career goodbye. Do you understand?”

I retorted, “Of course, yes sir, I understand, goodbye, sir.”

I didn’t care how much verbal abuse he engaged in, as long as he supported me on this. I was just about to hang-up when he blurted out, “And don’t run up a big room service bill. If you do, it’s coming out of your salary!” And then he hung up.

“Good,” I thought. “Everything is in place for my meeting with Dr. Abydos.”

I tried to postpone my flight, but the agent told me that it was not possible, because my company had purchased one of those-if you don’t fly when you are supposed to you lose your money dealies-but I didn’t care. As the old fictional English detective Sherlock Holmes used to say, “The games afoot.”

I went over to the car rental agent and made arrangements to rent a car on an extended time basis. I charged it to the company, of course. I had to wait about 5 minutes before the car was ready, so I used this time to reserve a room at the Mahe Continental Hotel.

I went and picked up the car and jumped behind the wheel. I hate driving these cars with the steering wheel on the wrong side, but what can you do? I took the Mahe version of the freeway, or perhaps you call it the expressway, and before I knew it, I was at the Mahe Continental.

I called room service, “To hell with that bastard Henry,” I thought. “What is the point of being in a hotel and not calling room service?” I ordered a pitcher of Harvey Wallbangers and a cheeseburger. Well, I had to eat something.

Next I dialed the number Dr. Abydos had given me. It rang several times and no one answered, so I hung-up. Suddenly, a frightening thought occurred to me, “What if this is some kind of hoax, a cruel joke played on the little country bumpkin from the Seminole District?”

“Oh God,” I thought, “I have been a complete idiot. I ruined my career for nothing, and my wife…she will never believe this.”

Then there was a knock on the door. I panicked again. I begin to imagine that they are on to me…whoever they are. “They know I am working with Abydos, and now they are here to kill me!” I thought.

There was a second knock, and I worked up the courage to ask, “Who is it?”

The voice behind the door answered back, “Room service, sir.”

I felt like a complete dope. I opened the door, and sure enough, it was room service with my cheeseburger and my pitcher of Wallbangers. I tipped the man, and he left, shutting the door behind him, but not before he gave me a little quizzical look. He was sort of saying, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

I poured a Wallbanger and realized that I probably had over-reacted about the phone call, just like with the room service guy. I guess I didn’t get off to a very good start in my espionage career.

So, I hit the redial button and allowed the number to ring a few more times than before. Lo and behold, I was rewarded with Dr. Abydos’ voice. I bucked up and said, “I am ready to meet when you are.”

Dr. Abydos responded with, “I will meet you in your suite within two hours. What is your room number?”

I told her, and we hung up. Within the hour, Dr. Abydos was knocking at my suite door. I opened the door, and she quickly walked in.

She was immaculately dressed in a tailor-made beige suit. She carried a monogrammed briefcase that matched her suit and custom-made beige shoes. One could not help but notice that Dr. Isis Abydos was a strikingly beautiful woman.

Without missing a beat, she told me what she thought had happened. She said that her husband had mysteriously disappeared. He was supposed to meet Dr. Luxor and Atty. Luxor in Jerusalem, Palestine, but he never arrived in Palestine.

She informed me that Dr. Sheitan had gathered a cabal of conspirators together in a recent meeting in Belgium. This meeting was comprised of himself, and the Blue Jinns and Devil’s Imps secret societies. These secret societies specialized in almost every kind of criminal activity you could imagine, from arson and counterfeiting to kidnapping and murder for hire. She said that she believed they planned to follow her husband to the Middle East where they planned to poison him, hoping that the finger would be pointed at antagonistic elements indigenous to the area. This they planned to do in concert with certain banking interests in the United Kingdom, Belgium, Germany, and France, the critical powers of the European Union.

“My Lord,” I thought, “this is serious.” But I didn’t let her know how frightened I was becoming. After all, I was the man in the room. I couldn’t let her know I was afraid. Why, I was the knight, and she was the damsel in distress, but in reality, I was scared to death. I was thinking that perhaps I was in way over my head. Suddenly, I realize she was still talking.

“...and of course, as I said, most of this is only the preliminary information available to us. We could be totally wrong, as we had to piece a lot of this together from rumor. We are only certain about the Belgium meeting, the participation of the banking interests, and the fact that Osiris never hooked-up with Thoth and Candace Maat.”

I regained my composure and answered, “Well Doctor, what do you want me to do?”

The good-looking doctor replied, “We want you to use your status as a journalist and snoop around. Find out what really has happened and get back to me, or my son Horus, as quickly as possible. You can reach him at the same number, ok?”

I answered, “Ok.”

She smiled and said, “Good, as you know the word ok, like yourself, is a product of Africa.”

Then she left.

I Begin

Almost immediately after Dr. Abydos left my suite, I started researching Dr. Sheitan. A basic prerequisite of this kind of endeavor is to know your enemy.

I used my laptop to log onto the Global Research database on the World Wide Web (WWW). I knew that Dr. Sheitan’s Ph.D. dissertation would he published on the web, because all dissertations had been put on the web since the year 2010. I looked through the index of authors and found him: Set Sheitan, Ph.D. candidate, Organizational Science, Cambridge University, United Kingdom. I clicked on his name and the system loaded his dissertation.

The first thing I noticed was the title: Machiavellian Approach to Organization. “What else would a man of his type write about; it fits him,” I thought to myself.

Scrolling through the document’s table of contents, I clicked on the opening section. In his opening discussion, he states that his basic thesis boiled down to these simple propositions:

Success depends on developing the skills needed to create social and psychological tension in commercial and political economic agencies

Success also requires the constant nurturing and exploitation of existing social psychological tension in the target agency

An individual seeking to dominate an agency must first plan effectively to seize and maintain management and administrative control using psychological and social variables to manipulate critical individuals in the agency (including comparative analysis as part of the base-lining process)

And such an individual must continually innovate management and administrative control mechanisms based on constant research to maintain productivity and profitability of the operations of the agency

I searched the archives of the major African newspapers and several others from across the globe. I found one particular article in a French newspaper Le Monde Nouevelle, which linked him to a grand international crime syndicate comprising among other groups, the Devil’s Imps and the Blue Jinns. Aha! The very groups mentioned by Isis, I should say Dr. Abydos. (Why did I want to call her Isis???)

This article said that he was the “godfather” of this syndicate, and all the groups were sworn to absolute loyalty to him personally. But, of the many crimes associated with these groups, none has ever been attributed directly to Dr. Sheitan, or for that matter, his top lieutenants running these groups. This syndicate included organizations from every part of the world. It was truly an international evil cabal.

Searching on Devil’s Imps and Blue Jinns provided access to several comprehensive news stories. Combining the stories about these two groups, they allege that the two groups together are engage in:

Unethical business practices, including Internet fraud

Insider trading

Targeted greenmailing

Illegal market manipulation

Political economic and industrial espionage

Counterfeiting and money laundering

Dealing in controlled substances and other international contraband

International pandering and prostitution

Filming and promoting child pornography

One article asserts that the Blue Jinns are involved in snuff movies

Plus assorted homicides, kidnapping charges, bribery, arson, perjury, assault, battery, extortion, theft, weapons and blackmail charges, and various tax, licensing, and zoning violations

However, none of these charges were ever proven. In fact, most of them never even got to court. And when they did get to court, the witnesses either disappeared or recanted their previous sworn statements.

Next I searched the society sections. According to these sources, Sheitan is said to be extremely wealthy, rumored to be the richest individual in the world. He is the owner of several mansions sprinkled all around the globe. He is also the owner of over 9,000 “night-clubs” which are suspected fronts for his multitude of nefarious enterprises. I learned that Sheitan is a great yachting enthusiast, enjoys breeding and racing thoroughbred horses, and owns many racing cars and polo ponies. He is also a licensed pilot and owns a fleet of several private airplanes (possibly used in the drug trade???). He is said to be a leading member of an International Society of Big Game Hunters, which many writers believe is just another front for his criminal activities.

By all indications, Sheitan is also a prolific playwright. Among his works was a re-write of the ancient British play Tetiviluis and the Shakespearean play Richard III. The first play details Satan’s use of humanity’s baser instincts to corrupt the world. The second play is about a power-mad individual who kills thousands of people, including members of his own family, in his campaign to seize the crown of England. Neither of these plays where critical successes, however.

He is also the author of several articles published in a magazine he owns. Among the articles was one that discussed the role of fratricide in literature and history citing Cain and Abel, Romulus and Remus, among others. I read this particular article. In it, he wrote that, “...sometimes the commission of apparently abhorrent acts, such as the killing of one’s own brother, is necessary to achieve a greater good...” Hmmm.

Finally, I looked at past issues of the online gossip columnists. There were, as you might expect, many mentions of him there. Inevitably, they always talked about him and someone other than his wife. Apparently, in addition to a penchant for being seen in the finest restaurants and theaters, he is known to associate with many of the world’s lewdest women. It is said that he has been an eager participant in many kinky activities, including S/M sessions with these women. One of his favorite pastimes seems to be conducting his own peculiar brand of “fancy-dress” parties (or what we call costume parties or masquerade balls). The difference is that all his parties are in reality orgies, where his perverted versions of Dionysian and similar rituals are acted out.

These parties generally start with massive drug consumption and drinking and end up with every possible sexual depravity one might imagine. One such party was dedicated to the memory of an insane Hollywood comedian, who allegedly killed one of his guests with a coke bottle he forcibly inserted in her vagina. Another time, a party was dedicated to the memory of the Borgias, and on still another occasion, to the notorious 20th century gangsters Meyer Lansky and Arnold Rothstein.

At these parties, he liked to dress up as Dionysus or Bacchus. Sometimes he would come as the Roman emperors Caligula or Nero, and even as Messalina, wife of the Roman emperor Claudius.

At one such party, he became angry because a guest casually mentioned his brother Osiris. According to the gossip, Set flew into a rage and beat the unfortunate person who made this error with an empty champagne bottle. He did not stop striking his victim until he was unconscious, and the victim’s blood was splattered everywhere. Screaming that he hated Osiris, he threatened all the other participants with similar beatings, or worse, if Osiris or Isis were ever mentioned in his presence again. Needless to say, the atmosphere at that particular party was somewhat restrained after this incident. Or, at least, this is the way the story was told by the particular gossip columnist.

Quite a man I thought to myself. But at least I now had a working dossier on our main adversary. I knew that Isis…I mean Dr. Abydos would be pleased with my work so far. I wanted to call her and tell her of my progress, but I didn’t. And then I thought of my loving wife back in the District. I closed the search window on my laptop and loaded the picture of my family. In a couple of seconds, I saw Marguerite’s smiling face on the screen and that of my children, my daughters Agnes and Amandla Nzinga, and my son Shaka.

Then for some reason, I thought of Dr. Abydos and her husband and son. I knew then why I felt uneasy about wanting to call Dr. Abydos by her given name. I was afraid I was beginning to admire the great lady a little too much, or more precisely, in the wrong manner. I resolved never to think of the good lady that way again.

I Meet the Son

Feeling quite satisfied with my research, I prepared to turn in for the night. First, however, I sent e-mail to Dr. Abydos requesting that she make financial arrangements for the rest of my task. I would need travel financing and general expense money. I also requested her assistance in gaining access to the world of the rich and famous, my new term for the lifestyle enjoyed by Dr. Sheitan.

Early the next morning, I got a phone call from Horus, the young son of Osiris and Isis Abydos. Unlike his mother, who you might recall had a slight accent when she spoke in English, he spoke perfect English, without any trace of an accent. Horus told me that he had been instructed to give me an unlimited expense account for my travel, research, and other functions. I thanked him. He sounded very intelligent and knowledgeable. From the sound of his voice, I realized he must be around the same age as my eldest daughter Amandla. Impulsively, I asked him how old he was.

He answered, “23 years old, sir, old enough to deal with my father’s enemies.”

Later I found out he had studied at UCLA, in what used to be the state of California. Indeed, he had lived in that area for over seven years completing his undergraduate and graduate work there. “Perfect for my daughter,” I thought, and I determined then and there to contrive a meeting of the two.

Horus said, “Although we are speaking on a secure phone line, I think a face to face meeting will be best for any further conversation. I do not think we should take any chances. Can we meet for lunch…let’s say around one o’clock today?”

“Yes, of course, where do you suggest we meet?” I answered.

He said, “I know this little place that serves a smorgasbord of African and African influenced dishes; it’s called The Boiling Table. It takes its name from an ancient Nile valley tradition of preparing grilled and boiled meats for public consumption. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”

“No, not really, but I am anxious to try it. Where is it located?” I said.

Horus replied, “Good. Its not too far from your hotel, 14 Madagascar Ave. is its address, anyone can help you find it if you get lost. Ok?”

“Ok,” I said.

The last thing he said before we hung-up was, “You’ll know me right away, I’ll be wearing a UCLA tee shirt and jeans, and I have long dreadlocks.”

I found the neat little restaurant with very little difficulty. It was sort of Afro-Polynesian in look with lots of rattan and wicker-type furniture, but at the same time, it was rather stately with fine china, sparkling service from the wait staff and the other personnel.

I looked around for Horus, but I couldn’t find him anywhere, so I told the maitre de that I needed a table for two. I went on to say that I was waiting for one other person, and I gave him his name and asked the maitre de to make sure that Horus was directed to my table.

He said, “Certainly, sir, as soon as the gentleman arrives.”

Just about the time I was getting comfortable, I heard this voice saying, “Mr. Wright, I take it.”

I looked up expecting to see Horus. To my surprise, it was not Horus, but another young man looking nothing at all like Horus had described himself. I noticed that he glared down at me with a significant degree of anger and contempt.

Before I could speak, he said, “My boss doesn’t like nosey busy bodies. If you value your health, I would advise you to stop snooping around. Mind your own business, because as you people say, curiosity killed the cat.”

Now you know, two days ago this would have scared me away, but today it only made me more determined than ever; the audacity of these people threatening my life like that. Instead of being frightened, I took advantage of the opportunity to record in my journalist’s mind all I could about this young gentleman. I noted that he sported a ruby-studded ring with the initials DI flanking either side of the gem. I also noted that he was carrying a concealed automatic pistol…well…noted it may not be the proper expression. More precisely, he made sure I knew he was carrying this weapon.

About five minutes later, Horus decked out in his dreadlocks, sporting the UCLA tee shirt, and jeans stood before me.

“Hello,” he said with the same resolute voice from our phone conversation.

“Hello...sit down quickly...we’ve got a problem,” I answered nervously.

“What problem? What do you mean?” he asked inquisitively.

I recounted my experience with the young thug with the ruby ring.

“Ah,” he said, “that would be one of the…what is the old phrase from the gangster movies...torpedoes, you know, a button man, he is one of the hit men for the Devil’s Imps. Don’t worry; they have quite a nasty bark, but they can be de-fanged, if you know what I mean. We’ve dealt with them before...my people can handle them…don’t worry. Besides, they are the least of our problems.”

I listened to this confident young man and could only nod affirmatively. I wondered what he meant by my people, this was the first time I’ve heard about his people. I decided to let it go for now, assuming that when the time was right, Horus would fill me in. I thought to myself that I liked this young man more and more each moment.

Our waiter came and took our order. Horus ordered a West African rice and chicken dish; I selected a Brazilian entree popular among the African people of that area. Its main components were braised beef, rice, and collard greens. We had a couple of Kenyan beers and a salad to round out our order. While we waited for the food, Horus elaborated on the history of the struggle between his family and his uncle’s forces.

He told me that he believed his uncle Set was plotting to eventually murder his family. Horus believed that his uncle intended to discredit them and their allies first. He told me that Set and his wife Nephthys had a violent falling out over his uncle’s attitude toward his family. He went on to say that Nephthys’ abhorrence of her husband’s plan had convinced her to defect to their side. Her actions could only be interpreted as a complete break with her husband Set.

He said that Set’s previous attempts to kill, or otherwise injure his family, had been constantly foiled by the excellent intelligence system put in place by the Abydos family, and managed by Thoth. He also said that his mother, Isis, with the help of Nephthys, and a Mr. Robert Anubis, had sworn to keep the commercial writings and work of his father Osiris alive, even if it required going underground. He told me that they intended to institutionalize the business and social philosophy associated with his parents under the power of the International Amen-Ra Humanists Societies. He further informed me that his family and associates felt that these actions were primary aspects of their overall plan to build a wider alliance to fight against the Sheitan syndicate.

The more we talked the more I was impressed with this young man. I have to definitely introduce Amandla to him when the time is right. Obviously, the tense and dangerous situation he and his family faced prevented much progress on that front. Nevertheless, I believed he would make a perfect son-in-law. Or rather, I should say, a perfect husband.

I asked him what the International Amen-Ra Humanists Societies was. All I knew about it was that it had played a part in the overall efforts to build public awareness and support for continental government in Africa.

He said vaguely, “Oh, it is an aggregation of like-minded agencies, dedicated to advancing mankind and increasing universal knowledge.”

“His first semi-evasive answer, perhaps he doesn’t fully trust me yet,” I thought.

Our waiter returned with our order. Half way through the meal, Horus suddenly asked me about my family. What a stroke of luck I thought. I told him about Marguerite, saying that a man could not want a better mate. Then I told him about my son Shaka. I told him that he played a lot of soccer and considered himself a musician.

The soccer comment seemed to interest him; he interrupted me, saying, “My people play a lot of soccer, we find that team sports are good preparation for other things.”

He looked straight at me and said, with a greater seriousness in his voice than the tenor that had marked his previous remarks, “You know what I mean by my people don’t you? I mean what they used to call my posse, my crew, if you will. I refer to the people who work with me on special assignments. You know…like dealing with the DI and the Blue Jinns punks.”

Then he smiled and said, “We like music too. We must get together with your son and jam sometime.”

I nodded my head in assent, although I wasn’t quite sure what I was agreeing to. Nevertheless, I felt in my bones that it was good.

I continued describing my family. I told him that my youngest daughter was named after Marguerite’s grandaunt; she had kept their family alive during the great depression of 2009-2011 that was a horrible period. I remember how Marguerite fretted for our little family as well as for her relatives. And then I got to what I really wanted to talk about.

“My eldest daughter is 22. She just finished law school and has passed the universal bar, so she can practice all over the world. Indeed, Amandla was the youngest person ever to do this; the normal age for graduating law school and passing the universal bar exam was 24-27 years old.”

I told him that she did her undergrad work in forensic investigation and jurimetrics. I took a little gamble and told Horus that, “She is a very attractive and brilliant young woman, if I do say so myself. Her name is Amandla Nzinga. We gave her that name, because we wanted her to understand the concept and importance of power. Ergo, we chose the Azanian word for power, Amandla, as her first name. We also wanted her to appreciate the historic significance of great African women, so we gave her Queen Nzinga’s name as her second name.”

“Oops!” I thought. “Perhaps I was overselling her. After all, who in their right mind wants to be fixed-up; surely not such an accomplished and wealthy young man, who could probably get any young woman he desired. And perhaps he would feel that the particular time was totally inappropriate.”

However, to my delight, young Horus looked at me with an even wider smile, indeed he looked absolutely animated.

He exclaimed, “I would like to meet Amandla…I mean, I would like to meet your family, sir. They all sound like such wonderful people. Perhaps Shaka and I could swap soccer stories, and your daughters, well, I am sure that Agnes would be just charming to meet. And Amandla seems like...well, she seems like...I mean with her academic and professional background, she sounds like the kind of woman we need to er um help investigate this case. Do you think she might be interested in that? If it’s ok with you and your wife, I mean.”

I said, “We can certainly broach the subject with her. Yes, I think she would probably find this case challenging.”

It was working out far beyond my wildest hopes, although I was a little bit reluctant to see my daughter exposed to some of the characters involved in this mess. Nevertheless, I told myself, “You can’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs.”

“Yes, I will call her this afternoon and ask her. If she says yes, I assume it will be ok if I use the account you set up for me to pay her expenses and the like?”

“Of course, by all means, we need all the help we can get in this matter. Whatever you have to do to get Amandla involved, please do so,” he answered.

With that, we finished our meal, paid our bill, and went our separate ways.

Amandla Arrives

Before I could call Amandla, I had to wait seven hours. This was difficult for me to do, because I was very excited about asking her to come to Africa and work on this case with me. But due to the time difference, I had to wait to avoid calling her in the middle of the night.

While I waited, I thought about Horus and how calm he seemed. If my father was missing, and I suspected the kinds of things about my uncle that he does about Dr. Sheitan, I think I would be a complete wreck. But he wasn’t, he was absolutely cool about the whole murky situation. Then I remembered something he told me on the phone; he was old enough to take care of his father’s enemies. It dawned on me that he was calm only because he had decided precisely what he was going to do. He was going to seek his revenge on Sheitan and his cronies. The more I thought about Horus the more I thought of him as a truly competent man. I thought he is a fine son, and I am sure he must be a fine leader. I was more enthused about him than ever and looked forward to having him meet my Amandla.

To kill time, I watched a nature show and then a local variety show on the national television station. After that, I set my alarm clock to wake me at 2:00 a.m. and took a nap.

I woke up to the sound of the clock’s unpleasant loud buzzing. I shut it off and reached for the phone and dialed Amandla’s number. After a couple of rings, I heard my daughter’s familiar voice.

“Hello,” she said.

“Amandla, this is dad,” I responded.

Excitedly she blurted, “Daddy, how are you? Where are you? Are you back in the District? Is everything ok? We are all so concerned about you.”

As soon as I could interrupt her, I told her that I was fine, no I was still in the Seychelles and that everything was progressing favorably. Then, with my fingers crossed, I told her about my meeting with Horus, and our proposal that she come and help investigate his father’s disappearance. There was a short pause that seemed like an eternity before she answered.

“Yes, I think that it would be good for my career to handle such a high profile case. Give me five days to tie up some loose ends here, and I will join you in the Seychelles. Please have an open-ended round-trip ticket, preferably first class waiting for me, ok?”

I answered, “Will do. I’ll have it there tomorrow, and I will reserve a suite for you here at the hotel. Say hello to your mom, your brother, and sister for me. Bye sweetheart.”

She answered with just the slightest hint of controlled excitement, “I will, bye daddy, see you in five days, and you be sure to take care of yourself.”

Later that day, I called Horus. I told him that Amandla would be arriving in five days. He was delighted at my news, and I couldn’t help but think that everything was falling into place. Well…if you ignore the fact that his father was still missing, and that my life had been threatened by some young thug…but anyway, you know what I mean.

Horus told me he would inform his mother about Amandla, and he would arrange for a meeting to bring Amandla up to speed. I told him that I was preparing a summary of my research and of the notes I made of our restaurant meeting for Amandla’s perusal, and I would copy it to him and his mother. He told me it sounded like a good idea, and he looked forward to reviewing my research himself.

Trying not to think about Amandla, I busied myself with making preparations for her arrival. I made a reservation for a suite down the hall from me and secured a car for her use. The rest of the time I occupied myself with my investigation into Osiris’ disappearance and putting the finishing touches on my summary. During this short interlude, I didn’t speak to either Horus or his mother. However, I did get a short communiqué from Horus confirming the meeting he set-up for Amandla’s benefit.

Two days before she was supposed to arrive, I received e-mail from Amandla telling me she had made all the necessary arrangements and would be on the flight as planned.

She wrote that, “Shaka and Agnes Hatshepsut had wanted to come and that mom cried...” Amandla always called my youngest daughter by her full name, Agnes Hatshepsut, because she said that it was important that Agnes be proud of her heritage as a young African queen. She went on to say, “Mom sends her love and wants you to be careful. See you 3:00 p.m. your time Wednesday, June 3rd.”

When I told Horus I had received this e-mail from Amandla, he asked if he could go to the airport with me to pick her up.

Barely disguising my glee, I answered, “Sure…that would be just great.”

The next couple of days seemed like an eternity, but June 3rd finally rolled around. Horus picked me up in his personal car, and he drove us to the airport. Standing at the international arrival terminal, I looked up and noted that Amandla’s flight was scheduled to touch down right on time. Within minutes, we could see her plane taxiing up to the gate. I was giddy with excitement. I glanced over at Horus and noted that, as always, he appeared to be exceptionally calm, except for a little look of anticipation in his face. We watched as the passengers deplaned and then I saw her.

“Amandla, dear, here we are!” I shouted.

When she saw me, Amandla broke out into a broad smile and waved. As she approached us, I tried to see her as a man might see her, not as her father. The woman I saw was dressed in a three-piece black silk pantsuit, matching black sandals with a slight heel, the sandals framed her immaculately pedicured feet, and she wore black pearl earrings that glistened on each ear from the light streaming behind her. As she walked towards us, her knee-length jacket seemed to float on a gentle breeze, which drew your attention to her long, elegant legs. For the first time, it dawned on me that my little girl was actually an extremely attractive woman, a fact that did not seem to be lost on Horus I might add. If I had to put his expression into words, I would say he had been struck by a thunderbolt.

Amandla came up to me and gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. I introduced her to Horus, and they shook hands. Their first response to each other seemed oddly professional and pro forma, but then again, I guess I couldn’t expect anything more from a first meeting. We walked over to claim Amandla’s baggage, and she told us about her flight. Uneventful she said, but the in-flight meal was interesting.

Suddenly, she turned to Horus and said in a very judicial voice, “Now, tell me; what is the latest on your father’s situation?”

He looked at her and said, “We will fill you in completely at a meeting scheduled for later this evening. I can tell you that we have some new intelligence, and we believe he is still alive.”

“New intelligence…still alive,” I thought, “he didn’t tell me that. Now that my daughter is here am I going to become superfluous?”

Amandla answered, “Good, I want to get right down to work. The meeting and the summary dad has prepared for me should bring me up to date.”

Horus then turned to me and said, “I thought that perhaps we should grab a bite to eat before the meeting…if you are hungry?”

Although he was looking at me, it was obvious that he was really talking to Amandla. It was his way of asking my permission. Being the brilliant and perceptive father that I am I said, “Oh gosh, wish I could, but I have some research I have to finish before the meeting. Maybe the two of you could go without me, besides you don’t need an old man like me slowing you young people down.”

Horus turned towards Amandla’s direction, lowered his eyes a little (this was the first time I saw him so unsure of himself) and asked her if she thought that was a good idea.

Amandla, with what appeared to me to be a little twinkle in her eye, and a modest, but obviously confident smile said, “I think that would be a great idea. It will get us off on a good foot, since I have been led to believe that you and I will be working together a lot.”

“Oh yes, the two of us will be working very closely. Very closely,” he answered.

Horus helped Amandla retrieve her luggage, and we left the terminal. When we got to his car, I held open the front passenger door for Amandla, while Horus put her baggage in the trunk. I sat in the back seat and tried not to listen to their conversation. However, I did hear enough to know they seemed comfortable with each other. Always a good sign, I thought to myself. Yep, this is working out just fine. Now if only there wasn’t this horrid kidnapping hovering over everything, but then again, if there hadn’t been a kidnapping, they would never have met.

It’s funny how something good can come out of even the worst situation.

Amandla Gets Down to Business

I felt good; I felt really good! I couldn’t wait to contact Marguerite, so I called her. I knew it would be the middle of the night back in the District, but I didn’t care. I wanted to tell her that Amandla had gotten here safely. I also wanted to tell her that her husband was a master matchmaker. I dialed our number and on the fifth ring this sleepy, but familiar voice, answered with a hesitant hello. I returned an excited “Hello” and after a second or so she realized who I was and greeted me with a mixture of trepidation and joy.

“Is there anything wrong dear? Is Amandla ok?” she asked.

I told her that everything was fine. I told her Amandla was here safe and sound, and indeed had made a new friend.

“New friend…who is this new friend?” she asked.

“Well, you know I told you I couldn’t tell you what I was working on here?” I answered.

“Yes,” she said, “of course I remember.”

“Well, I am working for the Abydos family. Dr. Osiris Abydos has disappeared, and I am doing research to help their investigation. They have this nice young son Horus who is just Amandla’s age. They hit it off when she got here like they were old friends.”

“Really, what do you know about him, is he ok, can we trust him?” she questioned me like a prosecutor.

I told her not to worry that I had full confidence in him, and that he was really a wonderfully intelligent young man.

“In fact, Marguerite, he is really quite a catch for any woman, you would like him. I do,” I said.

She told me, “Ok, if you feel comfortable, I trust your judgment.”

I then asked her if everything was ok with her.

She said, “Yes, everything is running smoothly. The Lyons said that we must have that dinner as soon as you get back. That bitch Debbie made a little shitty comment about you running around with some Seychelles exotic dancer.”

Debbie is Mrs. Lyons; well, you know how friends can be sometimes…a little shall we say…catty?

I told Marguerite not to worry about Debbie; after all, you know Debbie would do anything.

That was a little private joke Marguerite and I share about Debbie Lyons. It is a play on the old 20th century porno film titles. You know the ones I’m talking about, the Debbie is a complete whore films, “Debbie Does…” fill in the blank, Debbie Does Her Best Friend’s Husband, Debbie Does Herself, things like that.

Marguerite laughed and assured me that she doesn’t pay old Debbie any attention. After all, having the name Debbie is punishment enough.

“Good. Well honey, gotta go, say hello to Agnes and Shaka for me, and be sure to give my regards to the Lyons.”

“I will…goodbye. And take care of yourself, and watch out for Amandla, you know how headstrong she is,” Marguerite answered.

I told her that I would and said goodbye, then we hung-up.

There were three hours before the meeting, so I rested for a while and listened to some music. I was too excited about Amandla and Horus to do anything else.

The meeting was to be held in a conference room at Seychelles First International Bank. Most of Kemetic’s money was deposited in this bank. It was good business to deal with local establishments. It creates a cash velocity beneficial to both concerns. The bank was only two blocks from my hotel, so I walked.

Horus, Thoth and Candace Maat Luxor, Amandla, and I were the only individuals expected to attend this meeting. Both Dr. Abydos and Dr. Nephthys Sheitan (now separated from her husband) were otherwise committed and could not attend.

When I walked into the room, only the Luxors were there. I greeted them, and they returned my salutation. Thoth introduced himself and his wife, as this was the first time we had formally met. I was immediately impressed with the professional bearing of the couple. Mrs. Luxor, an attractive woman who appeared to be about 5 feet 7, 125-130 pounds, was attired in a beige or eggshell colored light cotton blend suit. Her jacket had faux seashell buttons and three very utilitarian pockets. The rather long flowing skirt almost reached down to her ankles. Her blouse was white, pure silk or silk blend, with a frilled collar. She sported some kind of professional or academic pin on the jacket’s left lapel. She wore a pair of very smart dark brown, almost mahogany-looking sandals. I must confess that I stared at her dainty toenails a little bit too long, but I found their stunning symmetry and dark brown nail polish fascinating, even dare I said it, erotic. Her fingernails were painted the same color, and they too were immaculately manicured. Her husband Thoth wore a short-sleeved safari suit that could be best described as a mint green made of some kind of cotton blend, perhaps cotton and silk, and he wore tan sandals. He appeared to be about 190 pounds, six feet tall or thereabouts, and his face seemed to be what some might call ruggedly handsome. I suppose he would make quite an impression on the members of the sugar and spice and everything nice gender, but to be frank, I preferred contemplating his wife. Go figure eh guys? All in all, they made quite a striking 30-something couple.

About five minutes later, Horus and Amandla walked into the room together. Perhaps I should say that they sort of floated into the room. Judging from their very animated conversation and reasonably jovial demeanor considering the gravity of the situation, it was clear that they had had an amiable meal. From all indications, it was probable that they had spent the entire time between the meal and the meeting together. Amandla had not even bothered to inquire about her car.

Nevertheless, they were both ready to do business, and when he came in Horus immediately sat down and assumed his responsibility as chair. Amandla sat next to me and extricated a legal pad from her briefcase along with a small tape recorder.

Horus introduced Amandla to the Luxors and the Luxors to her. They greeted each other warmly and with an ease that generally is reserved for old comrades in arms. Thoth suggested to Amandla that given the subject matter of the meeting, he preferred that she refrained from taping the proceedings; she nodded in agreement and put the tape recorder away.

Horus began the meeting. He started with a brief introduction, “My father has been missing since he left for his trip to the Middle East. We know that this is the work of Set and the Jinns and Imps thugs, but we do not want to make a move until we know exactly where father is being held. We know that this has been done in league with business forces in the European Union and the Northern Federation that are hostile to both the United States of Africa and the United Arab States. We also must deal with the fact that this kidnapping could not have been pulled off without the assistance of other individuals inside of Kemetic itself. Thoth will address that aspect. Candace Maat will address our legal strategy. Amandla, you will be working with both of them in their respective capacities. Thoth, if you will proceed.”

Thoth Luxor began, “Thank you. First, let us deal with the internal problem. We know that Set has certain allies in Kemetic working with him. We already have identified his primary operatives in the kidnapping of Osiris.”

“Pierre Tshombe, who in his capacity in security had access to Osiris’ travel agenda, was able to give the kidnappers an exact timetable of Osiris’ schedule for the trip and all the security plans as well.

“The second major internal accomplice is Elaine Mobutu in Financial Accounting. We have learned that she has altered the books as part of Set’s plan to accuse Osiris of illicit financial activity.

“We have devised appropriate responses for both of these individuals. These responses will not be elaborated on in this meeting, but we assure you, they will be thorough and appropriate for the treachery. Let’s just say that they won’t be in Kemetic anymore, indeed they won’t be anywhere ever again.

“As to Set’s general plan, we know that he has planted stories in the media organs he controls accusing Osiris of the following:

Sabotaging the effort to create a common African currency in the year 2001 in league with certain reactionary elements in the area that use to comprise the old Gulf states in the Middle East

Diverting Kemetic funds to an organization called Euroescorts to maintain a personal harem of white whores

Having an affair with his sister-in-law Nephthys, even going so far as to say that Robert Anubis is their illegitimate son-alleging that Nephthys had him while she was assigned to work in Vietnam as the President of our Asia operations and arranged for him to be adopted by the Anubis family.

“We can refute every one of these charges, but it will take a little time. This is where Amandla and Richard are going to be quite helpful. But unfortunately, the rules of the Delta Dynastic Group require that the whole Kemetic board be suspended until the allegations are resolved. So as of next month, the operations of Kemetic will be taken over by Delta personnel. That means we will not be able to touch any Kemetic resources. So our acting Chair, Sister Isis, has already arranged for the Wrights to be compensated and reimbursed from non-Kemetic funds, and all our activities relating to our investigation and counter-responses also will be carried on these accounts and other non-Kemetic accounts. As directed by the acting Chair, Candace Maat and I have devised an operational scheme for the next few months. We will discuss that immediately after Candy, as I like to call her sometimes, makes her comments on our legal situation.”

Candace Maat started with a brief disclaimer. “I can’t really add much to what my husband has just said, other than that my staff is preparing a legal position oriented to the Delta Dynastic Group for the local courts here in the Seychelles, to the Supreme Court of the United States of Africa, and to the World Court. Secondly, we have enlisted the assistance of trusted auditors to counter the phony financial misfeasance charges. We are also amassing evidence to show that Osiris was a prime advocate of an African currency. We have already secured the support of the key African political leaders in this matter, so that will be no problem. Finally, I want to say to Amandla that I look forward to her contribution in all these aspects.”

Horus thanked both Luxors for their reports, and then asked what these new assignments they had devised in response to his mother’s directive were.

Thoth, speaking for both his wife and himself said, “We have decided that Ms. Wright must infiltrate the Sheitan organization. She has the right academic and professional training, and she is unknown to them. She is the perfect agent to secure the inside information we need to finish this organization once and for all.”

Horus looked at me. I could tell he didn’t like this idea, and frankly, neither did I. I didn’t want Amandla taking these kinds of chances-research, even litigation, fine. But infiltrating their organization…no, that’s not a good idea at all.

Before I could object, Horus said, “Well, I don’t believe that’s a good idea. Why, Amandla doesn’t even know the terrain yet. No, I am afraid that won’t fly.”

Candace Maat answered firmly, “We understand your sentiments, Horus. However, there is no viable alternative. You must try not to let personal feelings blind you to our necessities.”

Horus shot back, “This is not personal; why, Ms. Wright and I have just met. It’s not personal at all. I just don’t think that she is ready to take on this kind of assignment. And besides...”

Thoth interrupted him and said, “Horus, it does appear to be personal sentiment on your part. You must come to see that weakness in yourself...please recall the danger we all face from this menace, not to mention the immediate danger your father is facing...”

Horus angered said, “I am aware of my father’s predicament, and I understand the general problem as well, or better than anyone in this room, but what you fail to understand is that...”

Before he could finish, Amandla asserted herself. She declared (in a very authoritative voice that I wasn’t aware my daughter even possessed), “I am here to do a job, I agree with the Luxors. I am the best person for this job. And the particular job must be done. Now, as I understand the rules of this meeting, everything is done based on the principles of democratic centralism. If so, then I believe we have you out-voted.”

I tried to interrupt Amandla, but she sensed what I was going to say, and said to me, “Dad, understand that this is my profession, please do not try to interfere.”

Then turning to Horus, but still addressing me she said, “I appreciate what you and dear brother Horus are trying to do, but you must trust my professional judgment, you must have confidence in my ability. I can take care of myself. Please do not worry. Trust me, and trust the Luxors as well as the excellent leadership of Dr. Abydos. We must trust each other, because this task of ours is vital to the well being of African people all over the world, indeed, it is important to the whole world.”

Horus, looking rather pensive, conceded Amandla’s point. I was told to continue my research, the meeting was ended, and we all got up to leave. I gave Amandla the reservation number for her car and told her I had spoken with her mom and then kissed her. She told me not to worry; her exact words were, “Don’t worry; I know what I’m doing.”

I returned to my hotel room and ordered a small green salad and a Banana Daiquiri from room service. I was still a little anxious for Amandla’s safety as you might expect. I decided to take a warm bath after eating, thinking that it would relax me. I went into the bathroom and ran the water at maximum hot, intending that it should cool down while I finished the salad and cocktail.

I heard a knock on the door. I opened it without inquiring whom it was, assuming that it was room service, but it wasn’t room service. It was a hotel maid who said she had come to change my towels. Not thinking anything was wrong, I said, go ahead, and I turned my back to her and walked toward the window to look at the bathers on the beach.

Trying to quiet my nervous thoughts, I decided to have two Daiquiris. Just as I was picking up the phone to call room service again, I heard a sharp noise that sounded like fireworks. Almost instantly, I felt a searing pain in my back. I heard two more such sounds, and I felt this same pain in my upper back and the back of my head. I realized I was being shot. That was the last thing I remembered.

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