Free The Best of Connie Willis by Connie Willis

think, but the seat belt sign pings almost immediately and goes off.
    Lissa’s husband instantly calls for the flight attendant and demands another drink, but they have already gone scurrying back to the rear of the plane, still looking pale and scared, as if they expected the turbulence to start up again before they made it. Zoe’s husband wakes up at the noise and then goes back to sleep. Zoe retrieves
Egypt Made Easy
from the floor, reads a few more riveting facts from it, then puts it facedown on the seat and goes back to the rear of the plane.
    I lean across Neil and look out the window, wondering what’s happened, but I can’t see anything. We are flying through a flat whiteness.
    Lissa is rubbing her head. “I cracked my head on the window,” she says to Neil. “Is it bleeding?”
    He leans over her solicitously to see.
    I unsnap my seat belt and start to the back of the plane, but both bathrooms are occupied, and Zoe is perched on the arm of an aisle seat, enlightening the Japanese tour group. “The currency is in Egyptian pounds,” she says. “There are one hundred piasters in a pound.”
    I sit back down.
    Neil is gently massaging Lissa’s temple. “Is that better?” he asks.
    I reach across the aisle for Zoe’s guidebook. “Must-See Attractions,” the chapter is headed, and the first one on the list is the Pyramids.
    “Giza, Pyramids of. West bank of Nile, 9 mi. (15 km.) SW of Cairo. Accessible by taxi, bus, rental car. Admission L.E. 3. Comments: You can’t skip the Pyramids, but be prepared to be disappointed. They don’t look at all like you expect, the traffic’s terrible, and the view’s completely ruined by the hordes of tourists, refreshment stands, and souvenir vendors. Open daily.”
    I wonder how Zoe stands this stuff. I turn the page to Attraction Number Two. It’s King Tut’s tomb, and whoever wrote the guidebook wasn’t thrilled with it, either. “Tutankhamun, Tomb of. Valley of the Kings, Luxor, 400 mi. (668 km.) south of Cairo. Three unimpressive rooms. Inferior wall paintings.”
    There is a map, showing a long, straight corridor (labeled Corridor)and the three unimpressive rooms opening one onto the other in a row—Anteroom, Burial Chamber, Hall of Judgment.
    I close the book and put it back on Zoe’s seat. Zoe’s husband is still asleep. Lissa’s is peering back over his seat. “Where’d the flight attendants go?” he asks. “I want another drink.”
    “Are you sure it’s not bleeding? I can feel a bump,” Lissa says to Neil, rubbing her head. “Do you think I have a concussion?”
    “No,” Neil says, turning her face toward his. “Your pupils aren’t dilated.” He gazes deeply into her eyes.
    “Stewardess!” Lissa’s husband shouts. “What do you have to do to get a drink around here?”
    Zoe comes back, elated. “They thought I was a professional guide,” she says, sitting down and fastening her seat belt. “They asked if they could join our tour.” She opens the guidebook. “ ‘The afterworld was full of monsters and demigods in the form of crocodiles and baboons and snakes. These monsters could destroy the deceased before he reached the Hall of Judgment.’ ”
    Neil touches my hand. “Do you have any aspirin?” he asks. “Lissa’s head hurts.”
    I fish in my bag for it, and Neil gets up and goes back to get her a glass of water.
    “Neil’s so thoughtful,” Lissa says, watching me, her eyes bright.
    “ ‘To protect against these monsters and demigods, the deceased was given
The Book of the Dead
,’ ” Zoe reads. “ ‘More properly translated as
The Book of What Is in the Afterworld
,
The Book of the Dead
was a collection of directions for the journey and magic spells to protect the deceased.’ ”
    I think about how I am going to get through the rest of the trip without magic spells to protect me. Six days in Egypt and then three in Israel, and there is still the trip home on a plane like this and nothing to do for fifteen