Egypt, 2603 B.C.
The intense Egyptian sun beat down upon the parched sand. A lone buzzard circled in the distance, no doubt spotting a rare meal in this unforgiving, scorched land.
Kanofer sat on the veranda in the sliver of shade provided from the Egyptian sun. He was working on a drawing for the pharaoh. His son sat beside him playing a game that the boy’s mother had taught him with a stone ball and a cup. The boy continued to push the ball across the decorative mat covering the floor, and the ball made a ‘pop’ sound as it entered the cup, eliciting a laugh from the child. Again and again the ball popped into the cup, prompting more laughter.
Finally, his father looked at him, annoyed. “Imhotep, please. I’m trying to work. I must have this drawing done by tomorrow’s meeting.”
“Why are you always drawing?” asked Imhotep, annoyed.
The father smiled. “Come. Sit up here on my lap and let me show you.”
The boy walked over and sat on his father’s leg. He looked at the drawing, first up and then down.
“Do you know what this is?” asked his father.
“See this? This is a structure that has four triangles of walls coming to a point. It’s called a pyramid. This is important in the evolution of our people because it helps us focus. I am attempting to show the pharaoh how the rays of the sun can be used to harness energy. Though the pharaoh’s visions are a bit skewed, he believes that a pyramid will help guide his eternal soul to Ra.”
The boy’s forehead wrinkled in curiosity. “What is Ra?”
“Ra is the word our people have given to what they believe is the God of the Sun. In truth, Ra is the ishkan, a plane of existence beyond this one where we live with one another after we die.” Kanofer continued, “Do you see the sharp angles? If built from the right materials, they can assist us in focusing our energy to help achieve more than we would be capable of normally. There is a pattern here, but it is something that I will most likely not be able to complete in my lifetime.
“Now—see these other pyramids? If perfectly aligned to these stars, they will help to enhance the ability of the ishkan that is buried far below and perhaps one day protect us. See the gold caps and the white smooth sides?”
Imhotep studied the drawing and pointed to a small building. “What is that?”
“That is where we are now—the palace.”
“Then those buildings, um…pyramids must be huge!” the child looked out over the plains of sand. He tried to imagine enormous white pyramids standing in the distance but found it hard to visualize.
“But how can we build something that big?” he asked his father.
“Ah,” his father said knowingly, “this is where a special gift comes into use that few people know about. Do you know that the energy I spoke to you about? If we use our minds in a very special way, utilizing designated tools, we can actually move stones—stones much larger than anything you can imagine—simply by pushing them with our mind. It’s called telekinesis. Our minds are capable of much more than most people think. However, my little Imhotep, this is a secret known only to a few, and you must help me keep that secret. Can you do that?” The father’s tone was meant to draw the boy into a pact of sharing something special, just the two of them, and it worked.
“Yes father. I promise,” Imhotep replied earnestly, meaning every word.
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