THE NIGHT OF THE LOST WORLD

By Andamogirl

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ACT ONE

Exchanging a surprised gaze, the two men said in concert, "Gunshots!"

Eyes reflecting deep worry, Artie added, "Someone's outside, in the sandstorm… or people, plural." and they both rushed into the parlor suite a split second later.

Opening the door, Jim gasped as the sweltering and insufferable heat of the desert hit him and Artie at the same time as a swirling wave of sand scratched their skin and stung their eyes before blowing then into the last car of the train. Jim moved onto the rear platform, followed by Artemus.

Pressing his nose and mouth into the crook of his elbow, Jim squinted, and his voice muffled and quasi inaudible, he said, "I can't see anyone."

Finding it hard to breathe, Artemus coughed dryly, roughly and lifted one side of his pajamas top to his face to protect his mouth and nose. "I can't see anything either."

Sand and dust slammed into them from all sides.

Suddenly a silhouette emerged from the sandstorm, walking in zigzag, followed by a horse, its head covered with a blanket to protect it.

But they took the wrong direction, blinded by the whirling sand.

Not hesitating for a split second, Jim jumped down to the ground and ran toward them. Artemus lost sight of his best friend for a minute, then, relieved, saw him reappear, pushing the lost traveler in front of him, and pulling the horse behind him.

Jim tied the horse's reins to the railing of the rear platform and helped the blanket-covered figure to climb the metallic stairs.

Closing the door, Artemus spat sand and saliva on the crook of his arm, then, like .Jim he brushed grains of sand and dust out of his eyes, his nostrils, his ears, his hair and off his face, and, finally off his clothes and let out a grunt of pain as it felt like his itchy, burning, abraded and overheated skin had been scraped off with sandpaper. "I hate desert!" he said.

While they did that, their 'guest' had removed her hat and the scarf protecting her head and face from the assaults of the sandstorm.

Finally they noticed that their 'surprise guest', wrapped in a blanket, and pointing a gun at them was a young, lovely brunette female.

Smiling, instantly in séducteur mode, Jim took a step forward and froze when the brunette cocked the hammer of her Colt.

His smile didn't falter though. "My name is James West… and this is not the way to thank those who saved your life, miss? Miss… ? Could you lower that gun, please? We're good people and we're not going to harm you, but to help you."

Her brow furrowing a bit, her lips chapped, she asked, suspiciously. "Are you?" then she looked up and down at the half-naked younger man standing in front of her: he was handsome, with an athletic body, a muscular torso, a square jaw, beautiful green eyes, nice hair, a seductive smile… 'He's perfect,' she thought. Then she shook her head, sending sand flying and got rid of the sand-covered blanket, letting it drop at his feet, revealing men's clothes, a gunbelt and saddle bags hanging over her shoulder.

Pointing at the left saddle bag, Artie said, "I can see bank notes poking out… Let me guess. You robbed a bank, got caught in the sandstorm, saw the lights of our train, fired three times to get our attention and help… and what are you going to do now?"

She shook her head and holstered her Colt. "Wrong. I'm an archaeologist and those bank notes you can see are the money I gathered for my expedition to pay the locals. I was caught in the sandstorm while leaving El Diablo Canyon. I thought I was going to die when I saw the lights of this train." She furrowed her brow intrigued. "To be that suspicious, you have to be law men, am I right?"

Putting his hand to his chest, in an apologetic gesture, Artie said, "My apologies, Miss. I admit to being somewhat conditioned by my profession." He smiled broadly. "We're not exactly law men, but Special agents of the Secret Service, on special assignment under direct orders from President Grant. My partner here is James West, and my name is Artemus Gordon…" His smile turned into a charming one and he added, "At your service, Miss…?" He trailed off.

She surveyed James West's partner: the other man was taller and solidly built, with broad shoulders. He had a warm smile, gentle eyes, mussed, curly, dark, hair… and was wearing white striped pajamas. "Older, but he's really handsome," she thought.

Brow creased in concern, Artemus gestured toward the table. "Sit down, please. You must be very tired and dehydrated. Do you want some coffee? A glass of cool water?"

Sitting down, the young woman's tongue slid over her dry and cracked lips. "I'd like water first, coffee, after, please. I've been riding in the desert for the past 4 or 5 hours in the blistering sun… I was then caught in the sandstorm… and I'm very, very, thirsty. But first, I'd like to thank you both. I'm grateful for your help, you saved my life."

The two men bowed their heads and Jim said, "It was a pleasure."

In an instant, Artie dashed to the galley and came back a few seconds later holding a glass of cool water with floating pieces of ice, he offered it to the young woman. "Cool water for you," he said.

She took a sip then smiled. "Thank you…." Intrigued she asked. "How can you have cool water and pieces of ice in this heat? Cold closets don't perform that well… I have one in my office, and as soon as it is a little hot, the block of ice melts."

Sitting on the edge of the table, Artie responded, "I replaced the cold closet or ice-box we had before with a special machine I invented that maintains a temperature a few degrees above the freezing point of water, between 37 to 41 degrees Fahrenheit. It permits us to keep perishable things longer than in an ice-box and reduces spoilage. Unfortunately, because it works with a heat pump coupled with the steam engine, it's not working anymore, as the train's steam engine is inoperative because of the sandstorm. My 'refrigerator', I call it that, will keep cold inside for a few hours more, then I'm going to lose everything stored inside… if we don't eat it quickly. I suggest we start with the fruits and the cream."

She drank the water thirstily and then gave the empty glass back to Artie. "Thank you, Artemus." She brushed her sleeves and said, "I'd like to remove all the sand and dust that's covering me from head to toe…" Suddenly embarrassed, she blushed a little. "Oh! I'm sorry I forgot to tell you... My name is Catherine Reynolds, Professor in archaeology at the Boston University."

Bowing his head, Artie said, "Charmed." Then, he added, "I want to apologize for Jim and myself being in such a state of undress. But it's early in the morning and it's very hot…"

Miss Reynolds smiled. "Likewise, and don't worry. I have four older brothers and it's not the first time I've seen bare-chested men wearing pajamas pants. So, I understand. No apologies needed." She paused and then she continued, "I'm a specialist in Southwest cultures, it's how the Indigenous peoples that have traditionally inhabited the Southwest United States and the northeastern border of Mexico, are classified. I have found very interesting rock etchings in El Diablo Canyon, not listed. I am the first archaeologist to have seen them. I am very proud of my discovery. I was going back to the village of San Juan near the border where I'm renting a house, when I was caught in the sandstorm…" She smiled. "Sorry, I'm babbling… my job is my passion. I'm Catherine, but everyone calls me Kitty."

Fascinated, Artie asked, "You work on Southwest Indians?"

Kitty nodded. "Yes, living in the lengthy period before European contact precisely. I'm fascinated by the Indians of that period and by all the Indians in general. And I'm fascinated too by the pre-Columbian civilizations. I know a great deal about them. I know, it's strange."

Smiling, Artie said, "Then we have something in common. I'm an adoptive Crow and Comanche and I'm a Cheyenne warrior."

Kitty stared at Artemus in astonishment. "Really? But how is it possible? You're a white man. Do you have Indian blood?"

Artemus nodded. "But not before I became American Knife's blood brother and thus a Cheyenne. American Knife is a Cheyenne medicine man."

Before Artie could tell her more about his links to the Indians – and enthrall Kitty with his exploits as Strong Bear and White Eagle, Jim moved close to Kitty and said, "We are pleased to meet you, Kitty and welcome on board the Wanderer – that's the name of our train. We have a bathroom, and you can choose to have a shower or a bath, or both. And Artemus is going to make coffee." He gave his best friend a pointed look – asking him mutely to go into the galley, so he could be alone with Kitty.

But Artie remained where he was deciding not to leave the field open to Don Juan-Jim. He too found the young woman attractive. He shook his head, ignoring his partner's childish scowl, then he sat down on the chair beside the lovely young woman. "Jim already made some excellent coffee… a bit thick, and strong enough to wake up dead people but…"

She chuckled, interrupting him. "I like it that way. It sounds perfect," She said.

Offering his hand to Kitty Jim said in a mocking tone, "Someone who has excellent taste in coffee, at last." He chose to ignore Artie's black look and added, "Do you want to follow me, Miss Reynolds? I'm going to lead you to the bathroom."

Kitty finally realized that the car she was in was luxurious, lavishly furnished with two back-to-back gold plush sofas, a table with elegant chairs, a carpeted floor (with lots of sand on it now) a big fireplace, green curtains with golden trimmings, etc. "Is this train yours? It's beautiful." She asked, curious, before standing and giving her hand to Jim.

Standing too, Artemus replied, "It belongs to the US Treasury Department – and the President uses it on occasion." He leaned toward her, taking her other (free) hand. "Actually, as we're stuck here because of the sandstorm, you're going to stay in the compartment President Grant uses when he's here. Jim and I are his best agents, in all modesty."

Eyes widening, she said, "Really? That's… that's fantastic!"

Rolling his eyes, Jim sighed. Talking about the President to impress women was so overrated. But it was a good tactic. He said, "Yes, Artie's right. We often accompany him, for his protection." He gave his partner a pointed look and added, "I'm going to show you the bathroom… in the meantime, Artemus is going to find some less sandy clothes for you to wear."

Smiling, Kitty said, "With pleasure. I need to get rid of all this sand and dust." She ran one hand through her sweat-damp hair. "And I'd like to wash my hair too. These clothes I'm wearing are convenient for horse-riding and traveling in the desert… But I'd prefer a dress. It's too bad you don't have one here."

Seizing the occasion 'to score points and outstrip his rival' in their usual competition over women, Artemus intervened, "But I do. In fact, I have a collection of beautiful dresses. I'm sure I can find something that fits you, if not, I'm an excellent dressmaker and I will modify one of the dresses for you, Kitty."

Kitty was astounded. "You have dresses? You?" She looked Artie from head to toe – focusing for a few seconds on his hairy chest. "But… you're a man."

Artie nodded. "Yes, I am. But I was an actor before the war - during which I served as a liaison officer for General Grant, (but he said nothing about being Grant's number one spy as it was something private and delicate), and before I joined the Secret Service. When the female members of my troop were ill, I had to replace them because I could – and still can – modulate my voice so that it sounds feminine. And sometimes, as an agent, I use my talents to transform myself, into a woman, in order to accomplish very dangerous undercover missions… where I risk my life all the time…" He paused to see if Kitty was impressed and found her both impressed – and fascinated. Pleased, he continued, "I create all my disguises, I'm a very good dressmaker, and I could make a dress for you, Kitty. I have everything to make the one you want, all type of fabrics, colors, laces, ribbons, buttons…"

Eyes shining with pleasure, Kitty beamed. "Oh, I'd like that! No one ever made a dress for me before, Mr. Gordon." She said.

Pressing a kiss to Kitty's hand, Artemus said, in a soft baritone, "It would be a pleasure. And call me Artemus. I'm an excellent cook too. What do you want to eat for breakfast?"

She shook her head, amazed. "You're an exceptional man, Artemus. Well… I'll let you surprise me. I'm sure it will be delicious. "

Losing ground against his opponent, Jim decided to counter-attack. "The bathroom is beautiful, you'll see. I decorated it myself…"

Not impressed, Artie huffed. "I am a graduate in mechanical engineering, I built it. It has the most elaborate shower in the whole country, as well as a state-of-the-art bathtub. They are powered by a hot water tank which I installed on the ceiling to save space and…"

Using a mocking tone again, Jim interrupted Artemus, "Thank you Artie, Kitty does not need to have plumbing courses but to take a shower."

Kitty looked at Jim and said, "I'll follow you." She suddenly realized that her horse was outside, tied to the railing and paled in dread. "My horse! Cinnamon! She can't stay outside! She's going to die! I tried to protect her head with my blanket…"

Moving toward the door, Artie said, "Don't worry, I'm going to take care of her. We have a stable car. She'll be fine there."

Kitty beamed. "Thank you, Artemus."

Looking at Artie with concern, Jim said, "Be careful, okay?" then he led Kitty toward the door opening to the narrow walkway.

Sighing, Artemus moved toward the door. "I will. Let's go back into the deepest pit of hell, old man," he said. He removed his pajama top damp with sweat and wrapped it around his head and face as a protection against the sand and dust.

He opened the door and gasped in shock as he was immediately enveloped in scorching heat and battered by the sandstorm.

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Later

Cinnamon was distressed and stamped the hay-covered floor nervously.

Rubbing the mare's muzzle with a soothing hand, Artemus said in a calming voice, "Easy, easy big girl, I'm going to take care of you."

Using a hard brush, he started to remove the sand and dust covering the horse's body, making slow, soothing circles. "Shhh… calm down, easy…"

Mo'éhno'ha Ȯhtameōhtsėstse (Walking Horse), Artie's Cheyenne pinto and Lockpick, his quarter horse, standing on their stall on each side of Cinnamon, passed their heads over the wall and nuzzled the mare's head, snorting softly, helping her to relax.

Once Cinnamon was sand and dust-free, Artie lowered a big sponge into a bucket filled with water and soap and started to clean the mare's coat.

Both Mo and Lockpick nudged Artie on his shoulders, with their muzzle, demanding to be pampered too. The agent smiled and shook his head. "No," he said.

Insistant the two geldings neighed in concert and then nudged their owner with their noses again, and Artermus capitulated. "Okay, okay, I will clean you too, but later."

Once Cinnamon was clean, he toweled her dry and blanketed the mare. Then he patted the animal's neck, "Good girl."

Feeling reassured and comfortable Cinnamon whinnied, rubbing her muzzle against the human's chest in order to thank him.

Smiling Artie stroked the horse's muzzle. "Gotta go now. The boys here will keep you company. I'm going to prepare something to eat for your lovely owner now, Cinnamon."

Cinnamon bobbed her head up and down.

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Later

Relieved that Cinnamon was okay, Artemus headed toward the bathroom longing for a cold shower and checked to see if Kitty and Jim had vacated the bathroom and they had.

Once in the bathroom he closed the door, then removed his sweat-drenched clothes coated with sand and dust and left them in a pile.

He stepped into the shower enclosure and turned on the shower waiting for it to warm up. But it never did, so he moved under the cold spray, cold enough to make him shiver, tilting his face upwards, running his fingers through his curly hair.

He realized the water was cold because the hot water tank was empty. Kitty and Jim had emptied it, using up the hot water. Not deliberately, of course. But there was no hot water left, he mused.

The steam engine of the train not working anymore, there wasn't any hot water coming into the pipes, he thought.

But the cold-water tank which allowed mixing hot and cold water was full.

He was so hot he didn't mind, on the contrary. Cold water felt good on his overheated skin, sluicing over him and he let out a long sigh of pleasure.

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Dressed in black pants and burgundy shirt, he came back into the parlor suite a couple of minutes later, holding a bowl filled with cool water – Marmie and AG in tow.

He found Jim and Kitty, hair still a bit wet, sitting at the table, already laid, talking at each other. He noticed they were holding hands, and smiling at each other, eyes locked.

Seeing him, they stopped talking and looked at him. Jim worried, asked first, "Are you okay, Artie?" and was relieved when his partner nodded.

Kitty worried too, but about her horse, asked, "How's Cinnamon?"

Smiling reassuringly, Artie noticed that she was wearing a pair of Jim's pajamas and her wet hair was wrapped in a towel. "She's okay, don't worry. I had her all pampered and she's probably befriending the other horses right now." He set the bowl of cool water on the floor and the two thirsty cats drank greedily.

The young brunette released a sigh of relief. "Thank you!" She stood and offered, "Can I help you in the galley, Artemus?"

Looking up at Kitty, Jim waved his hand in dismissal. "No, it's useless. Artie loves to be alone when he's cooking. The galley is his territory."

Kitty nodded. "Okay."

Being dismissed, Artemus addressed a rapid nod to Jim meaning, 'You won, I yield' and headed back to the galley, thinking that undoubtedly, he was no match against Jim Casanova West. Jim 'won the lady's heart each time there was a woman interested in both of them.

Not knowing jealousy, he didn't feel vexed at his companion's success with Kitty; on the contrary, he was happy for him.

Jim loved women – and women loved Jim in return.

For breakfast, Artie prepared and baked a round-shaped bread and cooked a big omelet with roasted potatoes that he cut into three portions. He placed each portion on a plate, added two slices of honey-baked ham, and four baked tomatoes with chopped parsley and minced garlic and dandelion sprouts with a lemon vinaigrette, and brought the plates to the next room – the bread lodged in the crook of his right arm.

Kitty, famished, looked down at her steaming plate, salivating and took her fork and knife, ready to devour everything. "It looks absolutely delicious, Artemus," she said.

Pleased, Artie smiled broadly. "Thank you, Kitty," he said, before pouring red wine in the young woman's glass. "I hope you'll like it."

Kitty nodded and waited until everyone had wine in their glass, and taking hers, she said, "To my saviors and new friends!"

Both Jim and Artie added, "Cheers!"

Taking the still hot bread, Artemus cut slices from it and offered them to Kitty and Jim. "Beware; it's just come out of the oven."

The young woman took a sip of wine and said, "I really enjoy your hospitality and your presence at my side, gentlemen, but I will leave as soon as the sandstorm is over. I can't wait to get back to San Juan to pick up some tools. I believe I have discovered the entrance to an underground world of the Ha'ichu people who were the ancestors of the Hopi Indians. The Ha'ichu people were Aztec warriors who explored this region centuries ago. They settled here, met and blended with the locals and that's how the Hopi finally appeared. That's why the Hopi Indians' language – which is is a very complex and very difficult language - descends from the Aztec language and it is unrelated to other pueblo languages. I should say, the Ha'ichu people are the Hopi Indians ancestorsinstead of were, because I think they're still alive – in their underground world."

Raising his eyebrows, very Surprised, Artie exclaimed, "Really? That's funny because…" He bit his tongue as he realized that he was on the verge of saying that Jim and he had met Aztecs before, but they had promised to leave the tribe in peace and alone. No one had to know they existed. Catching Jim's long look, he waved his hand in dismissal. "Ah! Nothing."

Kitty continued, "My colleagues at the University think the Ha'ichu people are extinct, but I'm persuaded they're not." She swallowed a few mouthfuls of omelet and potatoes, letting out happy noises of pleasure from time to time and added, "Why? Because I talked to a few Hopi Indians and they told me that they had seen small groups of people – dressed like their ancestors – like Aztecs - leave the bowels of the Earth – they mean El Diablo's canyon, where there is a very deep crevasse." She stabbed the tomatoes and engulfed them in her mouth before continuing, " they showed me engravings on rocks and murals depicting their ancestors, drawn a long time ago, and the ghosts were exactly like them. Pr. Rochester and Pr. Hayley my colleagues are persuaded that it's just tales, that the Indians are telling me nonsense… But I saw they are genuinely terrified. So I think their story is true." Then she attacked the slices of juicy ham.

Fascinated, Artemus asked, "Do you know why the Ha'ichu people chose to live underground? Were they hiding from their enemies?"

Kitty took another sip of wine and replied, "To answer your first question, I think the Ha'ichu people chose to live underground probably because they wanted to cut themselves off from the others, to find their identity again that they had lost over the centuries. They wanted to be pre-Columbian Aztecs again, but as they have evolved since that time, I think their civilization is not exactly like the Aztec one was in the 15th century. They probably have their own version of the Aztec life. That's why the people the Hopi Indians saw were dressed like Aztecs. They wouldn't be disturbed underground, in a remote and almost inaccessible place. To answer your second question, Artemus, the Hopi elders who are the 'guardians' of the ancestral history of their people told me the Ha'ichu people were feared by their enemies because when an enemy warrior was captured, he was immediately sacrificed to their gods. They had their chest cut open, their heart pulled out and placed on the ground, so the gods could see it, then he was dismembered and his remains eaten by savage beasts they kept as pets. They were described as huge, scaly, dragon-like serpents with horns and long teeth. I saw rock engravings depicting all this… I was particularly impressed by the piles of hearts. Dozens of them. The Ha'ichu people feared no one. Others feared them. I think they took refuge there after the climate changed, to be able to survive. But I don't know how they did survive underground." She cleared her plate and smiled at Artie. "That was delicious, thank you."

Bowing his head, Artemus said, "Thank you, Kitty," and started to eat his omelet and roasted potatoes, his stomach grumbling.

Cutting pieces of the thick ham on his plate Jim said, "The descendants of the Ha'ichu people left their place underground, do you know why?"

Kitty shook her head. "No, I don't. The Hopi hid as soon as they saw them and ran away. But I'm going to find out why."

Frowning in worry, Artemus took a sip ow wine and proposed, "Jim and I will accompany you. It could be dangerous… "

Kitty smiled. "Thank you, but I can manage this all by myself. I'm not a weak woman. I ride horses and use a gun as well as any man."

Furrowing his brow in worry too, Jim said, "I'm sure of it, but what will you do if those Indians attack you? What could you do? Kill one or two perhaps before they kill you in their turn. Artie and I are used to this kind of situation and we will protect you."

The young woman nodded. "In that case I accept your offer, gentlemen." Then she cleared her plate with the slice of bread, eating each piece of it with delight. "Mmm… your bread is just delicious, Artemus."

Pleased, Artie smiled proudly. "I'm going to make waffles covered with chocolate frosting and powdered with my latest culinary invention: icing sugar and I'm going to add a cup of vanilla ice cream, I have to use the cream before it becomes inedible."

Kitty's mouth salivated with anticipation and she licked her lips. "Fan-tas-tic!"

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Later

Reading the stack of old newspapers was boring, so Kitty huffed out a breath and left the armchair. "I'm going to see my horse," she said to Jim, who was thoroughly and methodically cleaning his guns.

He nodded. "Okay."

She headed toward the door leading to the narrow walkway. Once there, she looked down at the tawny cat sitting in the middle of the walkway, in front of a door. "What do you want?" she asked.

Marmalade was meowing and scratching at the door.

Smiling, the young woman nodded. "Okay, I understand, you want to go inside." She knocked at the door but obtained no response. She knocked a second time as Marmie meowed again. Still nothing. She decided to open the door ajar, slowly. "Hello?... I'm sorry to…"

She discovered Artemus sprawled across his bed like a starfish, lying on his stomach, his head buried in his pillow.

He was sleeping soundly, snoring lightly.

She knew that Artemus had retreated to his sleeping compartment after lunch for a nap. Jim had told him that their last mission had been very tiring.

He was wearing his black, short underwear only, with a bare chest, because it was very hot in the small room. She noticed the tattoo he had on his lower back, where rivulets of sweat were pooling: a black eagle, its long wings deployed.

She entered the sleeping compartment, closing the door behind her.

She recognized it as a Comanche design and with Marmie slaloming between her legs, she headed toward the sleeping agent.

She pulled up a chair, placed it beside the bed, sat on it and fascinated she observed the Indian tattoo. She had seen Indian tattoos before – but only in books –never a real one. It had the length and width of a bit more than her hand's span and contrasted with Artemus's milky skin there.

She knew that for Indians, tattoos were highly symbolic and linked to religious beliefs. It was a mark of distinction and honor too, and only the bravest warriors were tattooed. She remembered then Artemus telling her, "I'm an adoptive Crow and Comanche and I'm a Cheyenne warrior."

So, with that tattoo, he was marked as a Comanche warrior but didn't have the 'official title' because he didn't have Comanche blood running in his veins. But he had Cheyenne blood. That's why he was recognized as a Cheyenne warrior.

But this didn't in any way diminish the honor given to be recognized and appreciated by three Indian tribes. To her knowledge no one had been honored like that before him.

She couldn't help but to outline the black eagle with a fingertip and froze when Artie moved in his sleep but he didn't wake. He looked so beautiful in his slumber, with his hair tousled, his long eyelashes, his strong jawline, his lips parted, Blushing, she traced the curve of his broad shoulder. Yes, Artemus Gordon was a very attractive man.

But she wasn't interested in him.

She chuckled coldly. "And I'm not interested in Jim either… I'm just pretending. Dr. Loveless told me that women are James West's Achilles's heel. I will use that weak point when he is most vulnerable, I will kill him. He won't have the time or opportunity to react ... maybe when he makes love to me... in order to combine business and pleasure. As for Artemus Gordon, I'll find a way to eliminate him too. Then Miguelito Loveless will cover me with gold and diamonds. So much better that the small pay of the University. It was pure chance I found the Wanderer, stuck here by that sandstorm in the middle of nowhere. Or is it destiny? Who knows? I wanted to meet Jim and Artemus in Phoenix after my excursion into the desert to El Diablo Canyon … Phoenix where Dr. Loveless told me they were heading after their last mission. He knows everywhere they go – to be ready to strike, to capture them and then kill them both. But it won't be necessary now."

She ended her monologue when Marmalade leaped on the bed and sat sphinx style on her owner's lower back, hiding the tattoo – possessively covering as much of him as possible, claiming Artie as hers.

She stared at Kitty with big amber eyes where one could read, "Don't come any closer. This human is mine, all mine."

Kitty smiled and petted the cat – briefly - dreading to have her face clawed off by the possessive feline. "I didn't know that cats could be jealous…" She sighed. "It's too bad I have to kill him too, but I have a mission to accomplish," she whispered. Then she frowned. "I have to find an easy way to kill your master… If he's a recognized Indian warrior, he's redoubtable… I'll find something. But I will kill them both after they help me to find the ancestors of the ha'ichu people. I want to be the first one to discover them, I want my work to be recognized by my colleagues, by the scientific world and I want to be a great archaeologist, I want my name written in history books!"

Marmalade understood that Kitty was a mortal threat to her owner. She immediately arched her back, showed her teeth and growled threateningly.

Standing, Kitty gave a predatory smile to the cat and she said, "Enjoy your master as long as he's still alive." She opened the door and left, heading toward the stable car to see if Cinnamon was okay.

Then, she would start to seduce Jim West, she thought.

Marmalade lowered herself onto her owner's back, lying on her side and snuggled in closer to the heat of the small of Artie's back.

Outside the sandstorm was losing its intensity.

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In the evening

Blinking slowly, drowsy and barely awake, Artemus wiped away the drops of sweat that had formed on his forehead before pouring himself a second cup of fresh coffee.

Jim entered the galley a few seconds later, immediately noticing his best friend's mop of rumpled dark, curled hair the shadow circles under his eyes, and the general slackness of his face. Frowning in concern, he said, "You look like you need another nap, buddy."

Smiling, Artie replied, "I know. Don't worry, I'm fine. That heat coming straight from hell is sapping my meagre energy."

Relieved, Jim grabbed Artie's cup from his partner's hand, brought it to his lips and took a sip, a twinkle in his green eyes. "Your coffee is delicious."

Upset, Artie frowned and crossed his arms on his chest. "There are cups in the dresser, you know?"

Eyes lit with playfulness, Jim chuckled. "I know."

Sitting on a chair, heavily the older man said, "James my boy, you are in cheerful mood. I suppose it has something to do with the lovely Kitty."

Sitting on the other side of the small table, opposite to his best friend, Jim grinned. "Kitty and I spent the afternoon talking and… kissing."

Smiling Artemus said, "With a lot more kissing than talking, I suppose?" He saw Jim nod and smile broadly and added, "I'm happy for you, Jim. Where is she now?"

The door opened and the young woman appeared, wearing a red dress. "It's a beautiful dress, Artemus!" she said, before smiling broadly. "I love it!"

She entered the room followed by Marmalade, growling. She immediately positioned herself between her owner and Kitty.

Looking at Kitty from head to toe, admiring her, Jim finally answered Artie's question, "She was in my sleeping compartment putting on her dress – in fact, and it's my red dress. It's the one I was wearing during our first mission together in Petersburg, in the last days of the war."

Smiling, Artie nodded. "Yes, it is. This dress was the right size, and I didn't have any retouching to do. It's perfect for Kitty." Seeing his cat in threatening mode, he looked at Marmie, frowning, puzzled. "That's odd. Marmalade likes everyone… it's the first time I've seen her react that way," he added.

Looking down at the tawny cat, hissing at her, Kitty looked (falsely) pained, "I don't know why she doesn't like me, and I love cats. They're adorable fluff balls."

Scooping Marmie in his arms Artie then placed his cat on his lap, running a soothing hands over her fur, but Marmalade didn't calm down at all.

She let out her fiercest growl, snarling, her tail curling upward aggressively, looking almost wild. Kitty instantly moved back, a bit frightened. "She really doesn't like me," she said. Then she left the small room.

Once Kitty was gone, Marmie completely calm now, turned around on Artie's lap, quietly vibrating as she purred with affection, throwing her face forward into her owner, licking at the exposed skin of his neck, whiskers brushing up against the human's cheek.

Smiling, Jim said, "I know what's wrong with Marmie, she's jealous."

Looking down at his cat's big amber eyes, Artie said, "No she's not. It's not the first time we have had a women guest on board, Jim. Besides, it's AG who should be jealous of Kitty being very close to you, not Marmalade, as Kitty chose you, not me. No, there's something else…"

Hearing his name, AG the black cat padded across the galley and hopped up onto a stool and looked up at his owner, purring.

Immediately Jim combed his fingers through his cat's fluffy fur. "Something else? What for example?" He froze at an awful thought. "Do you think she hurt her?" He shook his head, dismissing it, scratching AG's ears eliciting happy purrs. "No, that's impossible. She's so adorable."

Rolling his eyes Artie said, "How many times has an adorable woman turned out to be a cold killer – and almost killed you, Jim?" He yawned. "But I don't say, she is."

Listening to his heart rather than to his reason, preferring love to his intuition ringing bells at that idea, Jim shook his head. "Of course she's not. She couldn't hurt a fly."

Rubbing his eyes, Artie said, "I think I'm going to take a nap before dinner. Everything's ready. I'll just have to serve."

Frowning in worry Jim asked, "Are you sure you're okay?"

Scooping Marmie up and holding her against his chest, Artemus replied, "Yes I am. I just need more sleep to be in great shape again. See ya later, Jim."

He left the galley and entered his sleeping compartment shortly after, his eyes closing, his body heavy. He lowered Marmalade to the floor, removed his robe and pajamas top as it was like an oven in his room and flopped on his back on the narrow bed.

He fell asleep almost immediately. Marmie leaped on the bed and nestled in the V-shaped space between Artie's left arm and his left side, one paw now pressed firmly over her owner's moving stomach, her head resting on her human's belly.

She closed her eyes, emitting a low and rumbling purr.

WWW

Later

Opening his eyes, Artemus realized that Marmalade was sitting on his chest. He smiled and scratched her behind the ears. "Good girl."

Marmie flopped onto her side, moved on her back and showed her beloved owner her belly, paws dangling limply in the air.

He couldn't resist petting her there and she started to purr loudly.

But after a moment he shifted on the bed needing to pee. "Sorry, Marmie," he said before trying to scoop up the cat, eliciting a mewl of displeasure.

Marmie crouched on Artie's upper body and meowing, she started scratching her claws down her owner's chest., gently enough to make sure he didn't bleed.

Smiling, Artemus said, "I know, you don't want me to leave the bed, but I need to."' He tried to scoop Marmie up again but she hissed.

He immediately stopped, frowning in worry. "What's wrong with you? Since Kitty's been here…" and there was a low growl.

He said, "Kitty," and heard a new growl, lower. Still furrowing his brow Artie asked, "Why don't you like her? She's nice."

New growl of disapproval.

He sighed. "Why don't you like her? Is it because you're jealous? Don't worry; she's interested in Jim only, not in me."

He propped himself on his elbows but Marmie refused to move, again, digging her razor-like claws in his skin – trying to immobilize him.

He froze. Knowing that cats were highly intelligent creatures he said, "Okay. Listen to me. I'm going to say things, and if I'm right, you meow, and if I'm wrong, you growl, okay?"

Marmie licked Artemus's neck.

He smiled. "I take that for a yes." He paused and said, "Okay, you don't like Kitty, that's established. "Why don't you like her?"

Without a hesitation, Marmie responded in biting Artie's Adam's apple. Then, she lowered her head, asking to be forgiven.

Puzzled, Artie asked, "She wants to bite me?" and there was a growl.

Marmie placed her left paw on her owner's neck where she had bitten him and scratched the skin, not deep enough to draw blood.

He blinked, finally understanding what his cat meant. "She wants to slash my throat? Kill me?" and Marmie meowed, balancing her tail enthusiastically.

Animals don't lie, he thought.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and a couple of seconds later Jim opened it. "Hey buddy, how was that nap?"

Finally dislodging Marmie from his chest, relieved she had retracted her claws, Artie sat on his bed...just to watch his cat nestling on his lap, across his legs – in an attempt to immobilize him again. "I feel fine, Jim." He yawned and then stretched… and realized that silence enveloped everything and everyone. The sand and dust loaded winds had died down. He smiled happily. "The sandstorm is over."

Feeling restless, Jim nodded. "Yes, but the Wanderer is stuck here for three days at least, until the driver and the fireman completely clean the steam engine and the cars. We have three days to help Kitty (Marmalade hissed) to find the ancestors of the Ha'ichu people. The El Diablo Canyon is 10 miles away from here. We'll go there tomorrow at first light."

Before responding, Artie tried to move Marmie from his lap, but she clawed the covers. "Okay. Oh, come on, Marmie, I need to go to the bathroom. It's now pretty urgent."

Marmie didn't move.

He sighed. "Okay, I've been warmed. I'll be careful, I promise."

Marmie retracted her claws and jumped off her owner's lap. She meowed in approval and padded out of the small room.

Intrigued Jim asked, "Care to explain?"

The two men heard a low feral growl just a few seconds before Kitty appeared beside Jim. She took Jim's hand in hers and asked, "Are you alright, Artemus?"

Standing, the older man nodded. "I'm fine. I'm going to take a shower before dinner. It won't be long. Everything's ready. I just have to serve it up."

Intrigued Jim asked, "Why is Marmie reacting that way with Kitty?"

Catching Kitty sending a cold stare at his cat with an equally cold smile, Artie realized that the young woman was dangerous.

Marmie had let him know that she wanted to kill him.

He now believed her.

WWW

Late at night

Needing to drink a glass of water, Artemus put his pajamas pants on and left his sleeping compartment followed like his shadow by his cat and entered the galley shortly after.

He decided to drink the rest of the Champagne after he spotted the almost empty bottle on the table. He poured himself a glass feeling Marmalade's eyes surveilling him.

He smiled. "I think you and I have a conversation to finish, Marmie," he said sitting on a stool and the cat leaped on his lap.

Looking up at her owner the feline meowed a yes and pawed his chest.

Scratching Marmie behind her ears, Artie said, "I know, you're worried about me… but I trust you. If you 'say Kitty wants me dead, it's the truth, because animals don't lie and they are very perceptive, more perceptive than human beings. They have to trust their instincts to live and survive… you sensed she's a threat to me. But why does she want to kill me?"

Suddenly Jim entered the galley in his turn. Like Artie he was barefoot and wearing his pajamas pants only. "Did I just hear 'Kill me'?" He looked down at Marmalade, smiling at the tawny feline rubbing its head with deep affection against Artemus's chest. "Don't tell me that Marmie wants to kill you?"

Playing with his cat's tail, Artie shook his head, his face grave. "No, but she let me understand in her own way that Kitty wants to kill me."

Incredulous, Jim blinked twice. "What?"

Sighing, Artemus took a sip of Champagne, now tepid and not bubbling enough anymore, "It's true. She wants me dead."

Now dubious, Jim asked, "Marmie 'told' you that?"

Petting his cat's fluffy fur, Artie nodded. "And I believe her. Cats are highly intelligent creatures and animals don't lie. Marmalade is hostile to Kitty because she knows that she wants to kill me – she probably heard something that Kitty said about me… her plan to kill me, for example. Since then, Marmie has done her best to protect me; she didn't want to let me go out of my compartment before dinner. I know, it does sound bizarre, but I sensed that Kitty is dangerous, and not what she seems to be."

Seeing that his best friend was – deadly – serious, he sat on the other stool and said, "Why would Kitty want to kill you?"

Kitty heading toward the bathroom heard voices and padded silently along the narrow walkway curious to hear what the agents were saying.

She stopped beside the open door, keeping out of sight of the men.

Shrugging Artemus responded, "I don't know why, but I do know that Kitty wants to kill me. I'm persuaded of it, Jim."

Scratching his head, Jim proposed, "I find that hard to believe. She's adorable and she couldn't hurt a fly – even if she has guns. It's for her protection only. She's incapable of killing someone."

Placing his empty glass on the table, Artie said, "You're wrong, she can, and I'm going to ask her a few questions tomorrow."

Kitty frowned, not feeling safe anymore. Artemus somehow knew she wanted to kill him, but Jim wasn't convinced. Her eyes narrowed and blackened with determination. She would kill Artemus – but to avoid being suspected by Jim, she had to make him believe it was an unfortunate accident.

Then Jim would die.

She silently retreated toward the bathroom and entered it without a noise. She left it a couple of minutes later, and heard the two men talking to each other.

She went back to the presidential sleeping compartment.

Hungry, Jim was eating a piece of bread and some cottage cheese, when AG entered the galley and sat at his feet, meowing.

Lowering his free hand to his cat's head, Jim said, "Are you going to tell me that Kitty will kill me too?" Then he chuckled.

Clearly upset, Artemus frowned, his mouth set in a terse line. He glared at his best friend. "That's not funny." He scooped Marmalade in his arms and huffed in annoyance before leaving the galley.

Feeling bad, Jim said, "I'm sorry, Artie." But his partner was already gone. Holding AG against him, he followed his partner.

But Artemus pursed his lips and closed his door right in his face.

Tbc.