Rei Cooper: The Great Time Theft
Chapter 2: Attempt to Go Back to the Frying Pan
Needless to say that I hate the desert more than any jungle. At least in the jungle you can have water, here out in the dammed desert there is nothing but cacti -if you can find it in this vastness of sand and not-water-filled goodness- with their awful smelling -and tasting- water. It took me a few days the slog to a place where the shade would keep me from melting, and by then my water bottle I had from the airport had been bone dry for a full day.
"How do adventurers do this? Its hotter than Hell out here and I'm out of water..."
If I remember correctly, it takes three days to die of dehydration. Three weeks without food would lead to starvation that is, if you had no fat... like me. I had about another day's worth of life before I became buzzard food. The person who dropped me here probably was someone emulating my voice, unless I can be in two places at once, it was the only explanation thus far. I sat out in the shade for a few minutes, waiting for the sun to go down. After about ten minutes, I grabbed my knife and cut the tip off the cacti I was using for shade. I managed to avoid most of the needles and began to pull each off, trying to be able to hold the stupid thing without injuring myself who knows how far away from civilization.
At last I managed to grip it and slurp the juice. It tasted like fruit, but mixed with a little bit of bitterness. Bleck. I forced myself to finish my 'drink' and marched on. You know what would be nice? A good round of butt kicking before I died. I had been wandering away from the pyramid, trying to not call attention to myself, but right now a prison cell was looking by far better than the freaking desert. As I stood up yet again and surveyed my sandy soon-to-be tomb I discovered my footprints had been washed away by the wind, making it impossible to see which direction I had come from. I wasted most of my time cussing out the desert and speed walking toward any sort of landmark I could find.
"I wish I had the van..."
Even if I did hate it the first few weeks we had it, I sorely missed the common convenience of which I was deprived. Trust me, when you're stuck in the desert, you're going to sound philosophical to keep your mind off the blisters forming on the soles of your feet. I wonder what happened while I was gone... was Bryce dead? What about Murph? Nah, Byrce was probably fine, and Murph had beaten the snot out of the intruder and they were trying to get me back right now. The smallest spark of hope flared and I walked a little faster.
"Come to think of it... isn't it better to walk at night because its cooler?"
I stopped dead. Why hadn't I thought of this sooner? Rather than walk in the hot sun all day, wouldn't it be better to be walking around at night in the dark? Then again without any sort of shade for miles around, walking would be better than sitting there cooking like raccoon flambé. Great, another lose-lose situation. I really shouldn't be whining like a sissy though, I've been through tougher... a quick shake of the head removed any thought of Jia from my mind. I was over it now, and it shouldn't crop up again and make me cry. But I won't be a helpless damsel again, I'm ready to fight back this time.
It was nearly nightfall when I spotted it, a large bird circling around an area, and if there's a bird, there's water. At least that's what some book I read told me. Running as fast as I could over the sand, I managed to reach a large overflowing river and as I kneeled down to sip from the water, I was greeted with a large bronze spear.
"Now translating. Ancient Egyptian located in cloud... loading..." Came a voice somewhere in the back of my mind.
"Halt commoner!" Cried a loud voice undoubtedly holding said spear at my face.
"Since when do people use spears as a weapon instead of a gun?"
Since about 800 B.C.
As I stood trying to be as non-threatening as possible, I smiled and replied, "You guys wouldn't happen to have any water bottles on you would you?"
*~TheBlueRacoon~*
As I passed through the city I noticed they were all dressed in tunics and had funny looking houses.
"Maybe the Egyptians like to LARP?"
Pathetic I know, and at the time, Time Travel seemed way less likely than that pathetic excuse for an explanation.
"Keep your head down prisoner!" Said the spear-happy guard behind me.
In case you're wondering, yes I tried to escape, and no, I wasn't successful. Unless your definition of 'successful' is beaten up, kicked around and told to come with him if I could still stand. All within one minute. Then I was successful, now go grab a dictionary and look up the word. But I was glad to see that his jaw was hurting him at least.
"Take that you stupid jackal."
The guy didn't need armor, he had a layer of pure muscle that not even bullets can penetrate. It was like punching a brick wall encased in a layer of steel and diamond. As I seethed in silence, and took in the local sights. Tons of simplistic houses surrounded a long brick road which led to a large ornate palace made of some kind of white marble and was relatively open so breezes could come through and cool off the inhabitants of the palace on hot days. As I marched on, I noticed a bunch of commotion near the front of the palace, a clump of people were gathered around a platform where a scrawny raccoon was losing a battle. Punch after punch came and went, but he never tired, until at last, I watched him fall each time with a feeling impending doom.
And the worst part? I was walking/being convinced at spear point straight toward that platform.
"Let's hope that being beaten up is the worst they do to me..."
"The reign of Slytankamen the Second has ended!" Came a voice from the platform. "Hail me, your savior from the armies of Rome! Hail me, your hero who fended off the thieves of this city with one blow!"
"Well somebody's full of themselves."
And it gets worse, a cheer came from the crowd. They were happy this guy was making stuff up! Not that I would know, history was very boring and a good place to make up for lost nap time. What's really funny is I got an A on the final.
"And I, your humble pharaoh will never steal from the nobles of this city! I am here for equality-"
"You lie!" Came a beaten voice, weak and trying to find some kind of weapon. "He is nothing but a pretender! A liar!"
"And yet you still do not deny the fact you have stolen this statue?" And a golden glint flew through the air, and I saw it as the statue I had stolen only a few hours ago.
But... that doesn't make sense. I personally saw that it was taken in! And I'm pretty sure that he was arrested for some... crimes I may or may not have planted in his office before the heist... but at least these were true crimes! The poor guy must have been blamed for the disappearance or, or something! I guess you could say that this moment was where it clicked, but I would only give it a half-click due to a familiar face now marching forward, a doberman with a wicked scar, giant muscles, and a face not even his mother could love unconditionally.
You guessed it, Mr. Vile. Which, by the way, may or may not be a pseudonym for an Albert Egglebert. So, the time traveling theory got tossed out the window for a few hours, but thankfully, it would be pelted back at me like balloons full of bees. Before I get too carried away with smiles -at least I think that's what they're called, stupid late night practices- I should also state who stood up from that brutal beating.
None other than my ancestor from ancient Egypt, Slytankamen the Second.
*~TheBlueRacoon~*
Hiding my face as best as I could, I tried to keep a low profile. Not easy when about five guards are taking you to see Pharaoh Vile, savior who hailed from Gan-Su Chin-an. Not exactly the brightest bulbs in the box. Somewhere in my mind, I knew that if Egyptians liked to LARP, then they would probably be talking about dragons... or something. Nor would they happen to be able to create this feeling in my gut that said that the poor guy who had just been beaten up and I were related. I'm not saying that I knew his name right off the bat, but it sounded quicker than wow-its-that-guy-in-the-hieroglyph-on-that-dusty-old-tome-I-should-know-him-but-I-really-don't. Again, I'll just save you some time and dashes. Also, some rambly names that I'm not even sure how I decided I would call him that. I also got punched for one of them, but I have no idea why.
"Step forward." He sounded bored. Maybe if I played this right I could- "Rei Cooper." Not a question, a statement that probably would've killed me on the spot with all the venom it contained.
"No, it's Aya Eglbert. Who is this Rei you speak of?" The mention of the last name turned the huge scar red and it started to throb. Considering it went across his face and was thicker than my pinky finger I nearly vomited on his royal highness' very expensive rug. Which I was also tempted to steal, but I cannot stress how much I held back pickpocketing half of the city as well, trying to keep myself from punching the smug look off his ugly face. I also cannot stress how much of an idiot he looks in a skirt and cone hat. "Besides, where did you get that freaking ugly statue from before? It simply looks smashing with that bit of blood from that one guy from before."
"What am I? British now? 'Smashing' is not a word I should ever use in normal conversation. EVER."
"Only you could point out a stupid statue after watching me beat your ancestor senseless." With this he apparently tried to do the thing in movies where he drums his fingers against each other, however he missed every time, which is quite a feat considering his fat fingers, and merely crossed them instead. "Wait..." He sat up and looked closely at me, and signaled for the buffoon guards to -with extra force- shove me closer to his royal highness' stink. "Where's that scar? I gave you that scar dammit! Don't tell me you... removed it you vain-" He called me a rather nasty word because of this mysterious ghost-scar I supposedly removed.
"What scar you creeper?" I asked his when he stopped holding my face and moving my jaw with his hand.
He then muttered something about time and how stupid it is, then turned his back to me to think about it. Wait. Why would he even know how to time travel? I of course used this time to run away, seeing how the guards had backed up when he had leaned in. I quickly ran to the nearest window and launched myself out of it, seeing how the palace was mostly full of holes to keep the occupants from turning into little mummies before their burials it makes sense. But at the time was thinking about what he said.
"Only you could point out a stupid statue after watching me beat your ancestor senseless." Two things, one, he knew me personally and had a grudge. Two, I wasn't in Kansas anymore Toto. I should hold off on making references to movies that won't exist for at least a couple thousand years before the camera or movies were invented. As I quickly touched down in the hot sand, I realized I had forgotten one very crucial element to my plan.
Shoes.
"Hot sand! Oooh oo hot sand ouch!" I yelled a little too loudly outside the window of the place I had just escaped from. "Ah ah!" Somewhere from inside the palace, a hand shot out and grabbed me by the back of my shirt and hauled me right back into the main chamber room. "That feels much better thank you-" And that was when Mr. Vile hurled me into the wall behind him.
"That makes it official. I hate Egypt."
"I know what to do with you now!" He said this like an excited child who had just used the potty for the first time. "I'll kill you here and now and save me the trouble for killing you later!" He was now leaning over me, murderous intent clear in those dim eyes. "I knew Avio was right in sending me back! I could stop the crazyness before it starts!"
I might be dealing with a version of him that hates me very very much. From what it sounded like, and fill in the pieces as we go along here, he's a time traveler too. From the future it looks like, and I have made him very mad at me. I don't think I missed anything except what the hell did this guy named Avio have to do with this?
"I hate to break it to you, but wouldn't I escape, seeing how future me did that to you? Also, if I died now, I wouldn't be around to make you hate me later and you wouldn't kill me or be here now." Logic. The large thug's only weakness. That was when I got in a shot below the belt, giving it all the strength I had left after being thrown into a wall and being beaten up all in one day. Which means, not much. I had completely missed, and hit the guard next to him. Don't ask me how, but I did. Needless to say it completely butchered my escape plan. "Can I get a do-over please?" I asked very pathetically.
He just smiled and raised is large and possibly fatal fist up high, and was about to cause to collide with my skull when a funny looking tan ferret ran in looking visibly distressed.
"Sir! The commoners are protesting your rule! If you don't put them in line soon, they might revolt!" Imagine a popular high-pitched cartoon character, only take that and add an Egyptian accent and a slight lisp, and you got this guys voice to a t. I kid you not, that is absolutely accurate. "Sir! You cannot execute a commoner here!" I let out a sigh relief. "If she has committed a crime, we shall look upon Hammurabi's Code and see the proper way to deal with her crime." Oh sure, the one time I'm innocent, I get to be at the mercy of some guy's code.
I hope its not that eye for an eye one I vaguely remember from history class.
"All right then..." Vile paused a moment to think. And I could almost see the smoke from his unused brain flowing out of both ears.
"What if we sacrificed her sir? We need to sacrifice someone to a god to appease them. Ra has been particularly neglected, what if we-" I could imagine this guy as the one person in the whole outfit to hold the rules on a sheet of paper in front of his face and state them to the entire criminal organization.
"Perfect, what time should we do that? I'm thinking dawn, but I don't know if Ra would like it at dusk..." They sound like they're organizing some dinner party, not my brutal sacrifice to the god Ra.
"Dawn would work best, after all, after Ra's journey to the Underworld, I'm pretty sure he would appreciate a good sacrifice." The ferret amended.
"Okay, I know you ladies are excited about my sacrifice, but can you plan it later?" The only reason I wasn't trying to escape again was the fact that I would no doubt only repeat my performance, and not get very far simply because I would melt before I even ran a foot out the city. "I'm getting bored and might steal your rug or something."
"I really wish I could simply slap that smiling idiot's smile off his stupid face."
With that he signaled to his guards to drag me. They grabbed me and made sure that I couldn't walk by holding me so that only the tips of my toes touched the ground and took me to the dungeon. I'm still not sure why I was happy at that moment, just that the thoughts that would follow were not as cheerful.
"You're here, enjoy the sunrise." It was curt, to the point, and more importantly, punctuated with my face hitting the other side of the wall.
I tried to reply but he had left me alone. In a cell. In Ancient Egypt. Would I ever get home? Not impossible, but how would I warp back? I lacked the machine Bryce had been working on, and I doubted that they would come. That mysterious person probably broke the machine. If I did get back, could I fix problems of history, like some kind of time thief? No, knowing me, I would only end up creating one hell of a butterfly effect. But... what if I could stop Ceyla? Would that make everything better? Or would it only make everything worse?
I could save him. I could save them both. I kept seeing that moment where he answered the door and... snap. No more to add to the Thievious Raccoonus for him. No more to add to her file. I was alone at age ten. Kenji had probably run out of the house, and I never saw him again until three months ago.
Then there was Jia. I... I should have done something. I should have gone after her killers. I would make them pay. I could still feel that cold red liquid between my finger when I remember when I tried to save her. I couldn't even see that place she was buried, even as close to where she was put to rest when I stole that statue. The police were watching it now. And through some kind of lack of will, I couldn't even come close in disguise because I would only break down in agony.
Why did they have to die? Are Coopers and anyone close to them just targets? I moved around to get comfortable on the stone floor and a large tome, twice disassembled, twice stitched back together, fell out of the bag I still had. I gingerly picked it up, holding it in my hands, trying to understand why. After a few seconds, I flipped it open to my father's handwriting. Some notes, a letter to me, and a large margin of pages I saw that told me his life. All that pain, sorrow, excitement, thrill, written down on just ten pages. A last link to the past that I had with him, and her. Mom's file had nothing but data. Arrests, physiology profile, some notes from her overseer but that was it. Nothing more than a name on a file and a picture. I guess family loss is genetic, because here I am without parents, like Dad, and a father killed like Mom.
I sighed, but read only the early chapters on Slytankamen the Second rather than continue the angst fest. He first created the Shadow Techniques, one to stand still that look like it was written early on, and the second described one where you could walk invisibly, but was written by someone else. Hard to imagine someone naturally turning invisible in a time where radio hadn't even been invented yet. I guess I also have that ability, but I only ever turn pink or blue-white. Not quite invisible, unless I'm in a room full of dolls or against the sky.
"Upon concentration, one can meld against the elements, hidden from view." It said, in that scrawly writing translating the hieroglyphs. "One could focus long enough in one spot, but I have yet to discover a way to move along invisible using this technique."
"Good luck with that buddy. I can't even stay in one spot and do that." I mumbled uselessly to myself.
I quickly shut the book and slumped against the wall. I had been leaning forward over the book, but all I managed to do was cause my back to ache. They could have given me a pillow, I could care less if it was stone, I wanted something I could scream into. It was like I had been sent into some cheesy show from the eighties. Get back to the future before everyone dies, but the hero doesn't look like she's in a phone booth on her way right now.
"Grahh!" I screamed to the ceiling. "This is stupid!"
"Would you be quiet over there? Some of us are trying to sleep." I rolled my eyes, but the voice couldn't see that. When no reply came, it came quieter. "I'm sorry it came to this. I never used to do sacrifices when I was in charge. Not that it mattered."
"It matters to me. Who am I talking with anyway?" Before you ask, the translator works both ways, if I haven't mentioned this before.
"In the dungeon until I die." A pause before he asked, "You have a strange... what's the word...?"
"Accent? I'm from..." Don't say france don't say france... "Francia..." Smooth. Like someone hit me on the head with a broom.
"Fren-cia? I have never heard of this town. I guess you might know the 'Pharaoh'," if I could see him, I could almost see the way he spit out the word. "Your acc-ents sound alike."
"You could say that." I was drawing a line in the dirt on my floor with my toe.
"Ah, I almost forgot stranger. My name is-" But he was interrupted by the guard rattling his spear on the door.
"Shut up, the both of ya! I've 'alf a mind to kill ya right now!" Judging from the accent, it looks like a certain someone brought some lackies from London, twenty first century.
And I thought that I was making a mess of the time line.
"I remember a time when things were straight-forward. When I stole things and I didn't have to worry about letting a butterfly die or something stupid."
I piled up the dust in one corner, and simply tried to sleep. But as usual, I never get very much sleep when a job's on the line.
A snatch of me stealing a guard's shoes, a glimpse of me slapping Pharaoh Vile -at which I tried to do a fist pump at-, and a black rock floating there was the end of it all. I stood in a completely blank white area, facing a rock so black that the air around it was slowly turning black and being sucked in. Every sense I had was on fire, so hot I could barely move, a taste so bitter that I nearly vomited, a noise with such a loud high-pitched noise I nearly cried and my vision was locked onto the rock. The only sense left was smell, and I couldn't smell anything as much as I tried. But I was trapped, unable to stop the noise, and unable to scream for help.
A long black tendril came out of the rock like a chick hatching from an egg. It slowly came closer, closer, until it grabbed me, and it felt like I was on fire. I just watched helplessly as pain exploded around me when it grabbed me. I couldn't even make a Hentai joke about it, that how bad it was. A giant mouth opened in the middle of the black rock. Everything was painstakingly slow, but just before one of my feet touched the monster's teeth, I woke up.
Vile had opened my door, and was smiling.
"Well, sleeping thief, good morning. Are you ready to be sacrificed to the almighty god Ra this morning?" If I had a collar to be hot under, I would have moved it to get some air.
I'm not honestly sure which I was more afraid of. The fact that I was about to die, or that dream. Either way, I'm in the fire now. No way back to the frying pan.