The Babylonians were easy to find. 

Their ships lay at anchor before the fourth island of the archipelago, sharp, dark silhouettes against the background of blue sky. Sunlight sparkled on the surface of the water and a faint haze lingered in the air as the Egyptian convoy approached.  

Seti and Mehu stood on deck making last preparations. 

The beaded wig weighed heavy on Seti's head and he couldn't stop himself from staring at the gold and agate bracelets that lay cold against both of his wrists. They belonged to Mehu, in fact everything he was wearing belonged to Mehu, down to to the gilded, woven-reed sandals on his feet. He'd never touched, much less worn, such expensive things.

"That looks about right," said the rightful owner with an appraising eye, making a last adjustment to the leather knot holding a leopard skin over Seti's left shoulder. 

Seti was sweating, his stomach in knots. A very bad feeling about the approaching meeting with the foreigners growled through his middle.  

Even after being in Mehu's presence for more than two weeks -- including the two days they'd spent docked behind the first island of the archipelago to give the Babylonians time to start their search-- he still hadn't dared ask the questions that were most on his mind. Now, with the first encounter imminent, Seti gathered up his courage and opened his mouth. 

"Mehu, we both know there is no reason I should be doing this. I have one diplomatic mission to my name, and that was a goodwill mission to Punt. I presented a pile of fabric to the King in an official ceremony and I was only allowed to do that because I won a department-wide competition for penmanship."

The corners of Mehu's mouth twitched slightly but he kept an earnest face. 

"It's obvious I'm no ambassador or even a negotiator. I'm not going to be able to convince them to hand over as much as a dead snail. Why am I really here?" 

"To bring back the stars, of course." 

"That's the mission, but what am I supposed to do? I don't belong here!"

Mehu looked at him like someone slow in comprehension. "You're to bring back the stars, Seti," he repeated. "That's why you are here. Believe me, that's exactly why you are here. Because of you, we will bring them back." 

"I have a hard time actu --"

"Kill turbines and drop anchor!" screamed the captain. The ship stopped vibrating as the turbines slowed and eventually died. There was a splash and their ship drifted a few seconds more before finally coming to a halt.  "Lower side boat!" 

As he was rowed to shore, Seti felt clammy and ill. This was all wrong. The reality of seeing the Babylonian ships at anchor made him more than certain. He was being asked to pretend to be someone he wasn't, someone he really wasn't. Asked to act a part that even with Mehu's coaching he would never be able to . . was that it? Was that the answer? 

Was he supposed to fail at his role of negotiator? 

If the Babylonians saw through him, what would happen? Scenarios sped through his mind as the shore with its dense line of foliage came closer. 

They would take him for a spy, perhaps an assassin, and believe the Egyptians had laid a trap for them, that's what would happen. And then they would kill him. But why the trap? 

For a moment, Seti was back in the darkened temple chamber. Who had the other three men been? Men of rank, unlike himself. They'd all had--

A spark in the sky caused Seti to look up.

The vault of perfect, clear blue above him began to warp slightly, as if something was pressing into it from the other side. No, as if it was rounding out, taking on a definite form. 

The form of a wide, benevolent feminine face. 

The Sky Goddess was looking down at him, her mouth now in a much broader smile than the usual, placidly divine smile. 

She winked, a fold in the fabric of the universe, and was gone.

Seti felt as if he'd had a blindfold violently ripped away from his eyes in one painful jerk. 

Who had no children and far fewer dependents than most other civil servants? That would be him. Who was it who had no relatives in the service who would protest or inquire into his death? That would be him. Who did a competent job but was known for being a little eccentric in thinking? Someone who didn't exactly fit the mould? That would be him again. 

He also knew what had been written on the papyrus Ipy had tried to warn him about. He couldn't say how he knew, but it was as if he had read the words himself. His work space was to be cleared -- he'd been transferred elsewhere. 

Permanently. 

For the first time, Seti realised that he'd been tricked. 

He'd thought -- and had been strengthened in that belief -- that it was a question of rank and the in-fighting between two powerful entities when it was actually a question of disposability. His disposability.

Who would be a more eager accomplice than a minor, self-made scribe who'd been allowed sudden access to greatness? Dazzle him, threaten him, belittle him, press him for information, and tell him he's the chosen one with power and wealth within his grasp. Then all you'd have to do is bundle him off like a cow to slaughter before he had time to react and he'd gratefully run straight into the butcher's knife thinking his significance had finally been recognised.  

Pharaoh will make you rich beyond your wildest dreams . . . puny scribe. 

No wonder they'd not answered his questions. His sole purpose on this mission was to be found out and killed at the soonest possible moment. He was an excuse, a catalyst, for a larger plan. He was the bait in a very carefully laid ruse!

The shore came closer and closer. 

"Turn back, you have no business here!" A giant of a man with long, curly hair and thick beard came striding out of the jungle shouting at them in their own language as the side boat ran aground. 

"Now!" said Mehu, and gave him a little shove, "Say hello, and state our business."

Seti clamoured out of the boat and waded onto the shore, Mehu splashing in his wake.  

"Greetings! We have come to negotiate with you in the name of the Living God, Pharaoh of Egypt," Seti said in halting Babylonian. 

"Negotiate? No negotiations! Get back on your ships and tell your Pharaoh you couldn't find us!" bellowed the man in Egyptian.

"Stars," Mehu whispered. The huge man came striding closer, his black eyes burning. Seti quickly rattled off what he'd been told to say. 

"We, ah, have come to negotiate for half of the fallen stars you are here to collect. Pharaoh has no interest in all of them; he is willing to share with his royal brothers. We can offer you an excellent price for --"

"Are you deaf? No negotiations! Get back on your ships and go." 

Mehu stepped forward and began to speak in Babylonian. The huge man crossed his muscular arms over the leather tunic covering his upper body and shook his head several times.  Mehu sounded like he was pouring honeyed beer in front of an angry lion, but the Babylonian was having none of it. 

More Babylonians swarmed out of the jungle and more Egyptians came ashore in the side  boats. 

From further up the beach, a shout rose and the gruff Babylonian turned. Another large, bearded man was fast approaching, but this one was dressed in leather body armour and a thick, purple kilt that split in front to reveal silver cloth underneath. His high, conical headdress peaked in front in a stylised silver crescent moon, and a curved short sword swung from a belt around his waist. He was obviously the leader of the foreign mission. 

The man in front of them started speaking rapidly in his own language, pointing at Seti as he did. 

"You, Negotiator! Come here," the leader said. Seti drew a deep breath and took some steps forward.  Mehu made to follow him, but the leader raised a hand and said, "Only the Negotiator!" 

Once they had walked a ways down the beach, Seti turned and looked back. A good thirty Egyptians were now gathered on the shore, Mehu in his finery standing in front of them watching intently. There weren't quite as many Babylonians, but still a frightening amount.

"Negotiator, I advise you strongly to leave," said the Babylonian in fairly understandable Egyptian. "For your own good. We are not here to take the umm . . ." he seemed to be searching for the right word, "stones. We're here to destroy them. That's why there can be no negotiations."

"Destroy them? But. . .they have strong magical powers. They're very valuable. Why destroy them?"  

The Babylonian nodded. "Too strong of powers. Our gods have commanded us to rid the Earth of them. No one should find and use those stones. They will only cause strife and destruction. They are malicious. Please, take your men back onto your ships and leave."

Seti looked around, first at the jungle, then at the sand and then at the man in front of him as his mind attempted to piece together the information. 

So, they really were here for some stars, that part was true. But did whoever was pulling the strings know what the Babylonians were planning to do? Were they here to get the stars before they were destroyed?  

The Sky Goddess had spoken to him twice. First she had indicated where the stars would fall and only minutes ago, she'd cleared his vision and shown him the trap that had been laid, giving him a strong indication of what was planned. What did she want him to do with that knowledge? Help or hinder the mission?

"I can't do that," he said. 

The Babylonian nodded. "You fear Pharaoh's anger? I understand. Perhaps -- 

"No, I mean, I can't order them to leave. I'm not in charge. See, I'm not a negotiator. I'm an insignificant scribe they've dressed in these clothes to . . .  enrage you into doing something rash so they'll have an excuse to . . . I'm not sure exactly what." 

The Babylonian frowned, letting his eyes wander up and down the expensive clothing and jewels. "You're a decoy?"

Seti nodded. 

"How are you to enrage me?"

"When I make basic errors and you realise I can't possibly be a Negotiator, who else will you think I am? They're hoping you'll draw your sword and kill me as a potential spy or assassin." 

The Babylonian glanced back at the knot of people intently watching them and then at Seti with a sudden look of alarm.

"Exactly," said Seti, wishing he knew if he was doing the right thing. 

"Who is your real leader?" asked the man, softly. The tone of annoyance in his voice was unmistakable.

"Impossible to say. It might be the man who was standing next to me. The one who speaks your language. Or it might be any of the other soldiers. I don't matter enough to know that." 

After a moment spent chewing the inside of his mouth, the Babylonian asked, "If you don't know who the real leader is, how do you know what's planned? And why are you telling me this?"

Seti smiled sheepishly, knowing how his next words were going to sound. There was a reason he'd not told anyone, not even his wife.  

"If I'm not mistaken, the Sky Goddess herself told me. I'm not sure she wants Pharaoh to have the stars either. And I don't want to die."

The Babylonian raised his eyebrows in surprise. "The Sky Goddess?"

Seti nodded, and looked away. He knew what he'd seen, but felt foolish saying it. Who was he that a deity would speak directly to him? It was laughable. 

The Babylonian stroked his beard, contemplating Seti with an appraising gaze. 

"We were told a wise foreigner with a message from Anu, our Sky God, would appear, but we thought it would be a native of this island."

"Well, I'm not sure I'm him, but I'm pretty sure we're both in danger. And that comes from up there," Seti indicated the sky by looking upwards. "Not from me. So that we're clear. I'd be much happier if I had nothing to do with this." 

"Go back and tell your people we need time to think," said the Babylonian leader, nodding a few times. "We will meet tomorrow for negotiations."

"But --"

"Do what you're asked, Scribe. And don't worry. A messenger from Anu has nothing to fear from us."

Seti bowed slightly as he'd been taught diplomats did and then marched back down the beach with as much confidence as he could fake.