Project Solaris 2: Hero Rising by Chris Fox Page A

both far older and far more important than the more majestic pyramids.
    "This way," Steve said as the bus rumbled to a stop. He slipped over the railing and dropped to the ground, shouldering a pack once he'd landed. He waited for the rest of us to join him before continuing. "The Egyptians take the security of their monuments very seriously. We'll be passing by armed guards, but don't be alarmed. Mohn has spoken with the minister of antiquities and they're aware of our presence."
    The warning seemed unnecessary. I could see several guards armed with assault rifles. They scanned the crowds ceaselessly, but without much concern. Most of the people in the crowds were European or American, though there were quite a few Asians as well. The Sphinx must receive thousands of visitors daily if this crowd was any indication, so I doubted we'd warrant any sort of special scrutiny.
    "How close will they let us get?" Jillian asked, as we began moving toward the line of tourists threading into the Sphinx enclosure.
    "Right up to the structure itself. We can go down between the paws," Steve said. He fished out a laminated badge, and held it over his head. Steve walked right past the line of people waiting to get in, stopping in front of one of the guards. The guard briefly eyed the badge, and then gestured for us to pass. I could see the enclosure ahead of us, a narrow ramp leading down towards the Sphinx's paws.
    Steve led us past a thread of tourists, most of whom were using phones or cameras to record the experience. I could feel the myriad signals drifting from those devices, a hundred connections to the Internet. That sensation I'd gotten used to, but there was another set of signals. One I tried to avoid. Those were thoughts and emotions, the mental broadcast every mind gave off. They were weaker than the cell phones, but strong enough that if I let them, they'd drown out anything else I was paying attention to.
    "You okay?" Jillian asked, leaning in closer and glancing at me over the top of her sunglasses. I read the concern there.
    "Yeah, crowds are just a bit overwhelm--" I began, trailing off as a thought flitted across my consciousness.
    It wasn't my thought. It belonged to someone in the crowd. Someone who was staring right at me. That thought was tinged with malice, smugness, and more than a little anger. I stopped, sifting through the sea of thoughts as I tried to locate the person.
    "What is it?" Marcus asked, pausing next to me. He released Summers' hand and began scanning the crowd for threats. Summers did the same, but facing in the opposite direction. They stood back-to-back, their long partnership welding them into a single unit.
    "I don't know," I said, low enough that I hoped only they could here. "I felt something. Someone in the crowd--"
    Time slowed to a crawl. One of the guards turned to face us, a man with a tan uniform and a thick, black beard. He raised his assault rifle in our direction, and it began to roar as bullets streaked in our direction. They caught Jillian in the face and chest, knocking her from the ramp and into the enclosure below. I knew there was no way she could have survived that, even with our regeneration.
    Time sped up again. There was a moment of vertigo, and the guard was suddenly several feet away. He was no longer facing us, and showed no sign of firing. Jillian stood next to me, seemingly unharmed.
    "You okay?" Jillian asked, leaning in closer and glancing at me over her sunglasses. It was a moment of complete deja vu. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I'd just experienced the exact same set of circumstances, and if I was right that meant the guard was about to--
    "Get down!" I roared, tackling Jillian to the dusty stone. Marcus dropped to one knee, but Summers was too slow. 
    The guard turned to face us, his assault rifle belching a hail of slugs that caught Summers in the back. She was flung forward, collapsing to the stone next to us in a shower of blood. The crowd around us erupted