This is a work of fiction. The characters of Mummies Alive are the property of DIC International. The character of Damia is the property of Sarda Rowan. Lyris is the property of the Goddess Mia. Trynia, Mennehotep, and Kara are my own characters, as is Mohammed Aziz. If you wish to use them please ask me first. :) The characters Hatshetsup, Sehnmut, Thutmoses II and III are based on historical figures, but this is not meant to be accurate. :)
I do this for fun, and my interest in ancient Egypt. Enjoy.
By Theresa Meyers AKA Trynia Merin.
Traveler from a Strange and Distant Time Part IIBy the time they arrived, Damia had paled visibly. Menne also seemed equally pensive. Up the grand stairs they walked, beneath the overhang. To Menne, it seemed as if she was walking into a huge temple of white stone and concrete. As if she was suddenly back in ancient Egypt once more at the temple of Isis so long ago. She removed her amulet and gazed at the amethyst. Slowly the glow increased in intensity. "She's here," she whispered to Damia.
"She's not the only one," muttered Damia. A cold shiver raced down her spine. Her mind flickered back to the past...
She recalled peering out from behind her Mother's skirt, ages ago. At the door to their small stone house stood a shadowed figure. Mother was talking animatedly with the stranger. Two eyes gleamed brightly from beneath the cloak as she invited the figure in. The two guards flanking the robed figure were left outside.
Once inside the house, he drew aside his hood. A lined face, still handsomely painted with kohl looked into her mother's. There was a mixture of love and sadness in her eyes as she silently prepared bread and meat for him. Damia wasn't sure who it was. Somehow he seemed familiar. The rich breastplate and headdress suggested a noble of great importance. And that scarab beetle talisman he wore looked a close copy of that which her mother wore at her throat.
The eyes of the man fixed on Damia. She shivered with fear, then backed away. There was something almost hypnotic about his eyes. That compelled her to draw closer. "Do not fear me, little one," he said, voice gravelly but equally compelling. "Come into the light..."
As if her legs did not obey, she walked forwards. Her mother nodded towards him. Two bony arms reached out for Damia as the man stooped on his one knee. The long fingers lay on her shoulders, bright eyes penetrating her soul. Each dream each fear leaked between the space of her gaze. "You have so much of her in you," he chuckled, and Damia did not know whether to laugh or cry.
"Father?" she said, as if she somehow knew.
"That is right, little one... I am your father..."
"Daddy," she said, and felt the arms draw her in. A mix of eerie delight filled her young heart. For a missing piece of her was now there. All the other children had fathers. She did not, till now.
All was a blur. He sat her on his bony knee before the hearth, and spoke in low tones to her mother. The bright eyes glanced over her in admiration and satisfaction. But a sense of dread filled her mind. As if something would take her new found father from her as suddenly as he had come...
"So like your mother," he repeated, toddling her on his knee. "I see fire and spirit in those eyes. I like that. It will do you well in the times ahead..."
Menne practically dragged Damia into the waiting area. That faraway look in her eyes frightened the Alchemist. "Are you all right?"
"Y-yes," said Damia, snapping back to the future. "I was just remembering someone. Back when I was only 3...."
"Excuse me miss, but are you visiting someone?" asked an orderly as they approached the ER.
"Yes. A friend," said Mennehotep.
"You can't go back there... unless they are family..."
"What is the meaning of this?" asked Menne, a bit annoyed. "Don't you know who you're dealing with..."
Damia gripped her arm, and hissed into her ear, "Watch it! This isn't ancient Egypt!"
"I do beg your pardon," she apologized, lowering her eyes into a subservient pose. "I... am scared and angry... and worried..."
"Hey, I get it," said the orderly. "What was her name?"
"She... was in a terrible accident," said Menne. "Burns. Over most of her body. Name was Trynia."
He flipped through his clipboard. "Nobody by that name. But I'll check. If you'll just take a seat here..."
Damia lead her to the waiting area. Menne sighed, and plunked down into the rack of benches. The slick seats were made of no wood like she'd seen before. And the colorful papyri in stacks were glossy and slick to the touch. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Ja-Kal and Nefer-Tina as they followed Presley and Amanda to the door. Lyris and Ja-Kal exchanged some words, and she accompanied the mother and Son.
Instantly Menne held the magazine before her face with fear. Those blue eyes seemed to fall in her general direction. Did he suspect she was here? If he did, he'd be furious. But Menne almost didn't care. For finding Trynia went beyond her loyalties to the guardians of Rapses. This was personal business. Luckily Lyris understood. And Damia.
* * *
"Heka!" shouted Scarab, hands on his hips. "Hekaaa! Come here this instant!"
"What is it, oh horrible one," she muttered, slithering up out of her urn. Her scarlet eyes blinked sleepily as she registered Scarab. From the look on his face, she could tell things had not gone according to plan.
"Those interfering mummies..." he snarled, limping over to his desk. With the weariness of 50 lifetimes he plopped into the leather chair behind it.
"Why am I not surprised?" Heka asked, sinking back into the safety of gold and jewels. Sometimes it just didn't pay to wake up some nights, she thought to herself. Scarab scowled, and buried his ancient head in his withered hands. There had to be a way to get what he wanted, but the answer eluded him. Squeezing shut his eyes, he allowed his mind to drift away. Darkness as black as his soul enshrouded him, with a velvet embrace.
Before him seemed to form a mist. Slowly it coalesced into a violet form. In his thoughts he forced the mist to reveal its true shape. Familiar sensations flooded the wispy tendrils as they whiled into a sphere that floated mere inches from him. A voice whispered to him from across the centuries, as silent and imploring as a loud roar. "Reveal yourself!" he commanded sharply.
The mist seemed to laugh, mocking him. With all its power he could not tear information from the cloud. "I am Scarab! I command you to reveal your secrets, and vex me no longer!"
"You know who I am," said the voice. "You cannot hide me in the veils of the past. Any more than you can hide what happened between us..."
"No," he gasped, as the mist formed into the face of a beautiful woman. "You... cannot be she!"
"I am... and do not think I can be forgotten so easily..."
"I command you, vex me no longer..."
"You can never have what you seek," said the voice, with a musical laughter that seemed to stab at what little of a heart he still possessed. Anger boiled up inside him. Hot wickedness hit the guilt, evaporating it into meanness. Focusing the anger he hurled it at the mist.
The laugh turned into the tiny wails of an infant that seemed to grow up before his eyes. A little girl with the features of the face in the mist hurled a silver circle towards him. It hissed as it sliced through the tangible darkness. The bright eyes shone with love, and anger which mirrored his own. How like himself she stood with self importance at her own destiny. A destiny that none dare claim to share with him.
Snarling he held up his hands to ward off the silver chakram. It's blade seemed to sink deeply into his upraised forearms.
"Nooo!" he howled. And blinked awake. Heka glanced at him, panic stricken.
"What was that all about?" she hissed. Instantly Scarab's hand clenched around her throat.
"I have it! I have the answer..."
"That's... not the only thing you have..." gurgled Heka as Scarab leapt to his feet.
"Quickly! To the hospital!" he shouted, blazing into armor. Wings extended as he leapt from his balcony into the fast quickening embrace of night.
* * *
Trynia sat, enshrouded in white bedclothes. It had been ages since she recalled sleeping on such a sophisticated surface. Fine wires ran under her skin, probing for vital signs that did not exist. However, she had managed to rig her cyber-system to approximate humanoid bio rhythms. To fool the natives, she thought grimly.
She sensed a familiar presence in her electromagnetic long range. An energy signature that was unmistakable. How could it be she? It had been thousands of years! It was an animate necrotic! She could tell by the overwhelming psychic trace devoid of a biomagetic aura. Most humans were bathed in the electromagnetic energies given off by their bodies. Only Kerlian photography, a crude 20th century technique would duplicate her own senses of this phenomenon. In the bed she straightened up, anticipating her arrival. Slowly the door swung open, admitting a nurse's aid. "You have a visitor," she said.
"Very well," said Trynia. "Let her in, by all means."
Her optics, flesh and blood, fell on a dark faced individual with sleek black hair. She could tell that the coloring was but an oil based cosmetic concealing necrotic flesh. Violet clothes draped about the stately form that had not moved for centuries. Bright onyx eyes flashed into Trynia's with joy.
"I'll be out in the hall if you need me," said the aid, discreetly slipping away.
"Trynia," gasped the arrival, rushing to her side and clasping her bandaged hand eagerly. The cold hand enclosed over Trynia's, gripping with surprising strength.
"Nefru-Re!" cried Trynia happily, returning the squeeze. She was careful not to apply too much pressure. After all, she didn't want to break any bones.
"You know I hate that name," laughed Mennehotep, happy that her special sign was returned. For only Trynia and some historians knew the secret. "Oh, how I have longed to see you, my old friend!"
"Likewise the affection is returned," said Trynia, smiling gently. Her liquid brown eyes fixed into Menne's, sparkling with the intense knowledge of alien worlds.
"So how were you summoned?"
"I hypothesize no spell was invoked," said Trynia. "But exposure to x-ray probes activated and recharged my cybernetic systems...."
She stopped when she noted Menne's blank look. "I apologize. I mean... that a machine for looking through solid matter awoke me. It uses special light... and when I am exposed to some light... I tend to recharge..."
Damia slipped her head inside. "Come in, fellow animate necrotic," said Trynia cheerfully. With one bandaged hand, free of Menne's grasp she gestured the mummy girl to enter.
"What?" said Damia, closing the door behind her. "I thought we left Rath behind!"
"I must apologize again," said Trynia, shaking her head. The fudge colored hair fell around her cheeks, concealing the bandage that hid her metal cheek. "I am a scientist... and I tend to speak in language much like this century..."
"Are you really that mummy?" asked Damia.
"I... am both and neither," said Trynia. "Actually I am from the future... from another solar system... you know solar system, right?"
Helplessly they glanced at each other. "I mean, another world. I told you I was from another land, Princess Nefru... I mean Mennehotep, because in your time your view of the universe was mythological... and I didn't wish to have you misunderstand. But as you are in a time now when the prevalent view is much like my own..."
"Oh yeah," said Mennehotep. "I learned about the theory of Astronomy... in the house of the Stars... about the world going around the sun..."
"What nonsense is that?" asked Damia.
Trynia looked at her with some confusion, then smiled patiently. "All will be revealed in time," she said to Damia. With the same look as a patient teacher has when teaching a difficult student with potential. Eagerly the two mummies exchanged information as Mennehotep told her the story of her own reawakening.
* * *
"Menne is where?" asked Ja-Kal, eyes wide with shock.
"I couldn't stop them," said Rath, holding up his hands.
"But you should have..." said Ja-Kal. "She could be destroyed!"
"May I remind you that she is a Princess, for the umpteenth time?" said Rath, sighing.
"Yes, but she is a relative of the prince, and we are sworn to protect..."
"But we are subject to her orders," said Rath. "I could not go against her reasons..."
"We must go to her at once!" said Ja-Kal.
"But she didn't go alone," said Rath. "Damia and Lyris are with her. They should be safe... enough..."
"But Menne was so wasted by that attack," said Nefer-Tina, coming up to them.
"That's right," said Ja-Kal. "And she..."
"I must correct you," said Rath. "What she suffered was not a psychic attack. Rather the suddenly shock of having a new ability thrust upon her..."
"What?" everyone gasped, glaring at Rath.
"She has been gaining some of her sorcery, due to my training," said Rath, with a hint of pride. "This may just be another breakthrough...."
"So now she's psychic?" asked Ja-Kal, trying to understand.
"Exactly. And her rapport with Tryniamerin is very strong. That explains the crying out of her guardian's name. But I temporarily dulled the sense when I cast the spell..."
"To the Hot Ra!" cried Ja-Kal. "Presley should be safe.. If Scarab is going after Trynia..."
* * *
Damia felt the shivers even more urgently than before. A sensation resembling a million snakes writhed all over her mummified flesh. From the bottom of her empty stomach rose a queasiness. Trynia fixed her bright eyes on Damia with concern. "What is troubling you?" she asked, extending a hand in her direction as Damia hugged her abdomen. "I am reading elevated emotional signs...."
Menne took Damia's shoulders and shook her gently. "What's wrong! You look as it someone walked over your tomb!"
"In a sense, someone has," she gasped. "Excuse me, Trynia... Princess. I need... some air...."
Eyebrows lowered in question, Trynia said, "I do not comprehend why you require air... if your lungs were removed in mummification..."
"Shh," Menne hissed, helping Damia to exit the room. "It's an idiom..."
"Oh, of course," said Trynia, settling into her bed once more. Once Damia had left, Menne turned once more to her Guardian. Concern wrinkled her lovely features.
"Not you too," said Mennehotep, taking Trynia's hand again.
"There is something odd," said Trynia. "My long range sense... for EM is reading a powerful source. A very strong source of negative emotional energy..."
Damia staggered down the hallway, feeling a flood of deep emotion. She braced her hand against the wall to steady herself. Distantly came the bells and voices of the hospital. They seemed to swirl around her. Then she jumped, as she heard voices only ten feet from where she stood.
"Excuse me miss, but can you tell me where that burn victim is?" said a man's voice. Damia snapped her head up. A nurse faced a fellow in a grey suit. Glittering gold chains crossed his chest, indicating a pocket-watch. His salt and pepper hair was neatly slicked back. "My name is Harris Stone... I was told by Mrs. Carnarvon that there were some accident victims from a recent robbery from my museum..."
"Oh of course," said the aid, as she directed him to Trynia's room. Damia still clutched her stomach. That man seemed odd. Yes, he appeared mortal. But her gut told her otherwise.
"No," she gasped, rushing after him. "Trynia... Menne!"
* * *
Trynia leapt out of bed, and raised her hands in defense. Menne pressed her back with one mummified hand. "No, you must gather your strength..."
"That negative source... it was the same at the place of my revival," Trynia hissed, pushing Menne's hand away gently. Throwing aside the covers, she planted both feet on the cold floor. With lightening speed she pushed Menne behind her. The hospital gown barely concealed her bandage swathed form. She grabbed a hospital robe and threw it around her shoulders.
Harris stone slid open the door, with the nurses' aid at his side. "Miss Merin, someone here to see you..." she said. "He's from the museum... and wishes to express his sympathy for your recent accident..."
Trynia's eyes grew dark, and she crossed her arms defensively. One hand grabbed a hospital tray, and hurled it in Harris Stone's direction. With a shriek the aid ducked as the tray collided with his head. "What are you doing!" cried Menne, as Trynia's hand restrained her.
"Foolish mummy!" snarled Mr. Stone, balling his hands into fists. "You only serve to anger me!"
"Get out of here!" Trynia shouted to the aid. "Get help! This is the man who attacked me..."
For he underwent a startling transformation. Black clouds surrounded him as he ripped off his suit. They swirled about his body, becoming black robes. His face wrinkled considerably as he became Scarab. Menne's eyes widened in horror.
"With the wisdom of Isis!" she shrilled, transforming. Her hands gripped Trynia's amulet as well. A vast surge of power shot through both mummies. Trynia felt unimaginable power coursing through her circuits. For she too stood transformed. Gold glistened all over her legs and one arm. A gold and amber gauntlet encased her other wrist and hand. An Egyptian kilt seemed to have replaced her hospital gown. And her hair was concealed in a blue and gold striped headwrap. "What in the Galaxy?" she gasped.
Scarab threw his first blast. Trynia raised her hands, deflecting the energy. She somersaulted, her feet connecting with Scarab's hand with lightening speed. Heka spun out of the sorcerer's grasp. Menne tripped Scarab with a sweep of one leg. Snarling he gestured her away with a magical wind. Menne crashed into the bed.
Trynia grabbed Scarab by the front of his robe, and hurled him bodily into the hallway. Gathering up Menne, she rushed to the window. "Hold on, Nefru-Re!" she cautioned, leaping out the window. Menne gasped, activating her wings. Safely they fluttered to the ground.
Scarab picked himself up, and shook his head with disbelief. That woman had the strength of a goddess! His magic didn't seem to affect her, worse. Tottering on his shaky feet he stumbled into the room. Heka slithered around his arm as he glanced down into the parking lot. Mennehotep had just landed. Cackling he aimed a blast towards Mennehotep.
Trynia threw her mistress to the ground with quick speed. Scarab aimed again. Only to be distracted with a bloodcurdling scream of "Aiieeeha!" from behind. He whirled about. Around him the hospital room was in shambles.
"Shabties!" he shouted, glancing again at the parking lot. "Attack!"
"Scarab, you wretch!" shrieked the woman's voice again. His eyes fell on a small slight figure, gleaming in amethyst armor. A fox's mask encased her head, and she held a spear before her. The point was aimed right at Scarab's heart. "Call them off, if you value your lives," snarled the Fox, pressing the spear point against his robe. Scarab dropped Heka, and backed away.
"My dear child," said he, fixing his gaze on hers. "You have no idea what you are saying..."
"You almost murdered an innocent!" she hissed. "I should kill you now!"
"I will save you the trouble!" he laughed. For Heka had slithered up to the Fox, unnoticed. She twined around the guardian's legs, tripping her as she advanced. Scarab transformed to beetle armor, and advanced on the Fox, claws outstretched.
Damia recovered her wits. Levering herself up with her spear, she shoved him away with her feet. Then she flipped onto them once more, spear up. The blade arched down, to be parried by Scarab's claw. With surprising strength she bore against him, actually pushing him toward the window. Laughing, he blasted her aside with his other claw. Damia shook herself, and a gleaming object spun towards him. He raised his claws to deflect it. In that second Damia was upon him, snarling and snapping, her claws at his throat.
The force of her leap threw both of them out the window.
* * *
Trynia and Mennehotep stood back to back. Around them the ranks of Shabties fell in. Menne hurled cartridge after cartridge at them, while Trynia sent blasts of electromagnetic energy int heir direction. She brought her foot down with surprising force. A series of cracks snaked the pavement with the force of her blow, toppling several Shabties. Spreading her wings, Mennehotep took to the air. Blasts of lightening arched from her fingertips as she circled around the Shabties. Trynia grabbed one shabtie and hurled it with surprising force into another. They shattered into dust. Golden hands slashed, cutting the legs from under one as another blow from her foot shattered its head.
A piercing war cry sounded from above, amidst a cackle. They looked up to see the two figures as they plummeted out the window. Damia leapt from Scarab's falling form. Menne streaked forth, catching the Fox in mid jump. Scarab's wings activated only feet from the pavement as he righted himself. More Shabties fell upon Trynia. The dust rose around the alien as they hemmed her in. Damia hurled her chakram. Singing it slashed into the heads of the entire line, one after the other. Menne released the Fox, and she landed neatly in the midst of the Shabties.
Scarab fell upon Mennehotep. Blow for blow they exchanged mystical blasts. His bolts and fire crashed harmlessly against her mystical shields. Likewise her magnesium cartridges kept him at bay. In the air they were near equals. "You can't keep this up forever, Princess," he sneered. "The more magic you use, the weaker you become..."
"Shut up and fight, Scarab!" she screamed. A explosive cartridge smashed into him, knocking him clear into the side of the hospital building. He crashed into the ground. But not before his last blast connected with Mennehotep. Her armor fizzled.
"Now to finish the job," he laughed, aiming Heka at the Princess.
"No!" cried Damia, hurling her chakram Neatly Scarab caught the Chakram in one claw, as Menne's armor fizzled out. Trynia raced forwards, catching her mistress as she fell. Scarab landed, brandishing Damia's weapon.
"Stand by to die!" he laughed. "Shabties! Take the large one, but kill the fox!"
Just then a fire arrow sizzled into the nearest shabtie. "Ja-Kal," gasped Mennehotep, in Trynia's arms. Yet another arrow sizzled in his hand that held the chakram. Howling, he dropped it. Trynia turned to see a large automobile roaring up, painted with Egyptian motifs. Inside sat four armored figures, ready for battle. The one with the motif of the cobra somersaulted out of the driver's seat, landing deftly nearby. A huge hulking fellow followed, light gleaming off his golden arm. It seemed as if it were artificial, like hers. But far more crude and primitive in design. Nevertheless he sent it smashing into Shabties just as well as she did.
The leader continued his barrage of primitive fire arrows. Wings propelled him into the air, similar to Mennehotep's. Together the reinforcements made short work of the remaining Shabties. Yet Scarab quickly retreated.
Still clutching her mistress, Trynia sent a blast of electromagnetic energy sizzling towards Scarab. The blue energy arced and crawled over his armor like a swarm of leeches. He roared with anger as the blast disrupted the armor spell. Left defenseless, he turned and ran.
"He's getting away!" Ja-Kal cried.
"I'm after him!" Damia shouted, racing after the wizard.
Trynia glanced with amazement as the three figures assembled before her. The hawk landed, his mighty gold visored head concealing a pair of gorgeous blue eyes. Slightly hunched over, the figure in the cobra armor flourished his quepesh, and strode forwards. As for the Ram, he lumbered over with massive steps that seemed to rumble the ground. "Don't worry, Trynia," said Mennehotep to her guardian. "Those are allies..."
"My thanks to you," said Trynia, inclining her head to the leader. "The Princess is most grateful for your assistance..."
"Are you unharmed Majesty?" Ja-Kal asked, coming over to where Trynia held Mennehotep. Carefully she set the Princess on her feet once more, and backed away two cubits.
"I am fine," said she. "Thanks to my guardian. Ja-Kal, meet Tryniamerin..."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," said Trynia, inclining her head to Ja-Kal. He closed the gap of distance between them, and bowed respectfully on one knee. The other two did the same.
"My thanks," said Ja-Kal. "It is good to see you are well, my lady. The Princess expressed great concern for your safety."
"I am Rath, scribe to prince Rapses,' said Rath, raising his head. Striding over to Trynia he took her hand, and kissed it respectfully. "I also express my gratitude for saving the Princess.
"And I am Armon," said the Ram, bowing clumsily to Trynia. "You kick Tut as well as I do!"
"Someone should go check on Damia," said Mennehotep, with a slight cough.
"Rath, Armon. Won't you escort the Princess and her guardian to a place of safety?" said Ja-Kal. "I will check on Damia."
* * *
Damia's armored feet pounded the sidewalk as she raced after the sorcerer. An inner sense seemed to direct her to his location. As if there was no place he could hide from the Amazon. Her enhanced nose picked up his stench easily. Till she rounded a corner. Up against a wall he leaned, coughing and gasping. It seemed the fight had taken quite a toll on Scarab. For his armor had dissipated. There was no sign of her serpent staff Heka either. And all the Shabties were destroyed by the other Guardians.
"Now it ends," she said, hurling the chakram. The weapon pinned Scarab to the wall with his hooded cloak. Weakly he raised his arms to send a bolt into her. Neatly she dodged the red blast.
"You are weak, old man," she taunted.
"Who... are you," he huffed, leaning over in exhaustion.
"I am Damia, Amazon and friend of the Prince," she said angrily, aiming her spear at his heart. "And the friends of an Amazon are like family. Those who threaten my friends will die a thousand deaths at my hand..."
She caught the look of shock and surprise in his eyes. Pure terror seized him momentarily. Then a smile crossed his ancient face, and the eyes seemed to mock her. "Brave words from one so small," laughed Scarab. "For you are just a frightened little girl..."
"Silence, you arrogant man!" shouted Damia, spear pressing closer. "Your deeds have sealed your doom. You have but a minute to pray to whatever deity you ascribe your black soul to..."
"Such fire and spirit," said Scarab, his eyes fixing into hers. Despite the mask, his gaze pierced her soul.
"Flattery won't save you..."
"I merely do what I must to survive," said he, a look of mock innocense in those eyes. He shrugged. "Just as you would, Amazon."
"Stealing a prince's soul? Just so you can crawl forever on this earth like the beetle you are?" she laughed. "You make me sick!"
"Everyone needs a hobby," said Scarab. "Besides, I am not the only one guilty here. You too have killed to survive."
"Don't trick me," said she. "I had reason for it."
"So have I. You have your precious code of honor. When to kill and when not to. What sort of a challenge is it for an Amazon to face her biggest enemy unarmed?"
Damia stopped. He had her there. In that second she was lost. For he grabbed the spear away from her with surprising strength. She struggled against his skeletal grip, wrenching the weapon free. The spear flew cubits away as she kicked it with her foot. Snarling she threw herself upon him. Still he pushed her claws out at arms length. Again his gaze met hers. "I know who you are now, child," said he, softly.
"What?" she gasped, hardly able to fight the piercing eyes. There was something keeping her from killing him. Something instinctual and basic. As rudimentary as the need to eat and sleep. Why could she not complete the task. He was at her mercy. And yet... the look in those eyes suddenly stabbed at her heart. Tumbling down the short slope of years to childhood those same eyes peered at her from a mud brick house so long ago. The evil slipped away to a momentary softness.
"No..." she gasped. "It can't be you..."
"Your heart knows the truth. Why you cannot do it..."
Gently he pushed off of him, and seized her chin in his hand. The gaze fixed into hers. "Leave me be," he said, pushing something into her hand that was cold. "Trouble me no more..."
In a daze Damia dropped to her knees as Scarab vanished in a puff of smoke. The chakram was once again in her fingers. A tear formed in her eyes, and she realized she was quivering violently. A feeling of queasiness spread over her body, as if she would vomit any second. "For the love of Isis, NO!" she screamed loudly.
Ja-Kal raced to her rescue. His sharp eyes saw Scarab as he slunk away. Why was Damia just kneeling there? Why did she not attack him? In a heartbeat he was at her side, gripping her shoulders. "Damia, snap out of it!" he scolded her.
"No.... n-no," she stammered, her teeth chattering. "That... man..."
"What happened!" Ja-Kal shouted with anger. "You just let him go..."
"I... couldn't help it," she sobbed, eyes staring past him. This was very distressing. He had never known Damia to be upset so easily.
* * *
Trynia glanced at the Sphinx as it rose impressively overhead. Far along the horizon she discerned the spires of modern skyscrapers as they pierced the dawn ridden skies. Pink and sherbert bands heralded the rising of the world's sun. She could see the twinkling of Venus, Earth's closest planetary neighbor in the morning skies. All along the bay the city rose, terminating at the line of blue between sea and sky. She could sense the life auras of millions of hominids as they awoke from their slumber. Each life trace faintly blazed in her em sense, almost drowned out by the whirling fields of televisions and computer systems she could discern.
"Right this way," said Mennehotep to Trynia, laying a hand on her shoulder. "It's time you rested and recharged."
"Recharged?" asked Trynia, as she let her mistress lead her inside the structure. From the look of the building materials it appeared to be plaster and concrete. Very modern. As if only put up in the last year or so. The disruption of the em field indicated steel girders holding up the Sphinx. So many anachronisms were present it made her head swim. Behind her Armon walked, carrying a strange parcel balanced on one arm.
"Yes," said Rath, striding along beside Trynia. Carefully he supported some of her weight with one slender hand. "It's imperative that you rest in your sarcophagus..."
"That's ridiculous," she laughed. "Superstitious nonsense. You animate necrotics may require your coffins to focus electromagnetic energy... but my circuits are perfectly capable of harvesting the ambient solar radiation..."
Rath stared at her in amazement. "Are... you a learned one?" he gasped. "Your manner of speech..."
"There are few disciplines I don't have some working knowledge of," said she, modestly glancing at Rath. The gold of the morning sun enhanced the glitter of metal on one cheek.
Armon snickered with delight. "Whatever you said, it shut him up better than anything I ever said,"
"Of all the foolish nonsense," Rath protested. "My lady, I meant no disrespect. I meant that it would be prudent that you recharged in the manner that we utilize..."
"And that is logic?" asked Trynia, amused at the dialog. Now they reached the inner chamber. Momentarily she glanced overhead at the vaulted ceilings of the chamber with a sense of wonder.
"Well, you are a mummy, like us," said Rath. "And you must restore your strength within a sarcophagus."
"You ever stopped to ask why that is?" said Trynia. "And I am not like you. I am not even of the same species..."
"Whatever do you mean?" asked Rath, intrigued.
"You are human. Necrotic, but human. I am not human. I am not even from this planet. In fact..."
Grunting, Armon sat the parcel on one end. He placed it in the line near Rath's. Yawning he turned to his own sarcophagus, engraved with the Ram motif. "You're putting me to sleep," he yawned.
"Quite," said Rath, with a slight cough as he slipped into his own sarcophagus. "What precisely were you saying, Lady?" he asked Trynia.
"I am an alien being from another planet... another solar system..." she said.
"Such words are not unknown to me," said Rath. "But that is nonsense..."
"I take it you believe that the sun goes round the Earth, then,"said she.
"The sun is up in the sky," said Rath. "As anyone can observe."
"If you were on the Moon, you might think differently," said Trynia.
Rath laughed, "That's ridiculous."
"What if I told you your paradigm merely depends on your frame of reference?" said Trynia. "Yes, because you are on the ground, the Sun appears to arc in the sky. But if you were near the Sun, looking at the Earth, what would it look like. Would it move?"
Rath had no answer save, "Good night milady. Rest well. Perhaps we can continue this interesting discussion tomorrow..."
Mennehotep smiled at Armon, who slipped into his own sarcophagus. "It's time for you to rest," she said, guiding Trynia to the sarcophagus beside that of Rath. "I know you don't believe, but it's for the best."
"Where will you be, Nefru-Re?" asked Trynia.
"In the upper chamber. Do not fret. Tomorrow you will meet the other guardians. Isis be with you..."
Relenting, Trynia took her mistress' hand and kissed it. She backed into the confines of the sarcophagus again, and let Mennehotep position her arms across her chest. Slowly the lid was put in place. A bit of fear crossed Trynia's mind. What if she should be confined within for another 1000 years? But Menne wouldn't let that happen. She had come all this way to find her. And that meant much to the alien scientist. Devotion to one's own. She had served Mennehotep's family for years. Such devotion was typical of species such as hominids. Even in necrotic form the devotion still existed But what was the purpose of these necrotics? Trynia knew from experience that a being often failed to move on in death if there was unfinished business from their previous life. That was the case with "ghosts", electromagnetic forms of life that had the energy signature of human consciousness. She'd seen many such emanations in her multiple travels.
Would she ever see her home again? At least in this time she felt a sense of renewed hope. The technology just might be advanced enough for her to repair it. Perhaps that is why Scarab wanted her? Because he knew her secret. Her senses distinguished him as a live human, not an animate necrotic. The age index was far off her scale. If he had been alive for so many years, perhaps he could correctly ascertain based on the centuries science, that she was an alien. As sleep feel upon her, Trynia shivered at the prospect.
* * *
She awakened to the sound of female voices. One she recognized as Damia, the woman who had met her in the hospital. The other was the voice of the leader, Ja-Kal. Judging from the tone of voice, he seemed angry. Discreetly she slipped the sarcophagus open a crack to hear more effectively, but not so much as to attract attention.
"I can't believe you just let him go!" said Ja-Kal. "You, an Amazon. You who say you are fierce and unrelenting..."
"That's not fair," said she in return. Some of her original spunk and spirit had resurfaced. Still, Trynia sensed the quavering in her voice that indicated extreme stress.
"I... had my reasons," said she. "He was unarmed."
"Do you think Scarab would be so considerate in your shoes? He would destroy you..."
"But he was capable of destroying me, and he didn't..." said Damia, voice faltering.
"Thanks to you he might very well win..."
"How dare you judge me so!" spat Damia, voice pitch rising.
"Ja-Kal!" cried Mennehotep, suddenly coming up to them. "How can you say such things..."
"With all due respect, Princess, she could have cost us..."
"She has perfectly justifiable reasons..." said Menne, angry as she stood up to Ja-Kal. "Not all of us are indestructible. It is pointless to revisit the mistakes of the past... I'm sure she wont do it again..."
"Make sure..." said Ja-Kal, still angry. "And as for you your majesty, you deliberately put yourself in danger... what if we could not reach you in time..."
"Of all the low blows!" cried Mennehotep. "We were actually holding off Scarab when you showed up! We could have triumphed! Especially with Trynia's help!"
"That may well be, but our strength is in teamwork. I explicitly advised against you going out in your condition..."
"I am every bit as good a fighter and judge of my capabilities," said Mennehotep. "I had a duty to the one who served me. That in no way endangered Rapses. I did what I had to do, and I accept full responsibility. Even for Damia if I must..."
"Menne, please! I can fight my own battles!" Damia argued.
Trynia was about to intervene when she heard Rath's voice pipe in. "Excuse me, is this a bad time?"
"What is it Rath?" Ja-Kal snapped angrily.
"I could not help but overhear..."
"This is between Menne and me," Ja-Kal snapped.
"Begging your pardon, but we all could hear with that volume," said Rath. "And I cannot help but point out that Mennehotep is not in the wrong in this case. She took a calculated risk, and the odds were considerably in her favor. Why, her guardian and Damia took the battle in full measure."
"Thank you, Rath," said Menne, grateful for the Scribe's support for a change.
"And she may have well triumphed, as she points out. We are all safe and well, and Tryniamerin is not in Scarab's hands. In all, the mission succeeded..."
Angrily Ja-Kal grunted, "Rath, when I want your opinion..."
Damia stormed out, with an audible humphing sound. Mennehotep glared at Ja-Kal, her onyx eyes fixing into his blue ones with fury. "I will not be spoken to in such a common manner, Hunter," she said angrily. "And I will not stand by and let you tear Damia to ribbons for one mistake! For Isis sake, we are not indestructible Shabties..."
"I am responsible for your safety as well as Rapses..." said Ja-Kal.
"That may be," said Mennehotep. "But that does not include embarrassing my friends, or causing the dissension that you so rightly try to expunge! I am surprised at you!"
Trynia heard the thumps as Ja-Kal stormed out of the room. Menne put her head in her hands. Rath walked over to the Princess, laying hands on her shoulders. "Do not let his words upset you," he said, trying to calm her down. "He was merely concerned..."
"You don't think I was?" she snapped at Rath. Then apologized. "I am sorry. Its just that Ja-Kal is being so unreasonable... like... like..."
"Like I was once?"
"Yes," she laughed sadly.
"Affection clouds the judgement of the best of us. One cannot help but want to protect you, Your Majesty," Rath said softly. "Please, do not judge him too harshly. He will see the error of his ways..."
"You are a good friend," she sighed. "Despite your harsh tongue..."
Rath laughed, and strode along after Ja-Kal. Trynia chose this moment to emerge fully from her sarcophagus. "Greetings," she said to the Scribe.
"Ah, good morning, Trynia," he said, turning about with some surprise. "Did you... er sleep well?"
"If you are inquiring as to if I'm recharged, the answer is yes," said she. "Thank you."
Rath inclined his head. "Do excuse me for wandering off without continuing our dialog, but I did need to discuss some urgent business with Ja-Kal. Feel free to wander about... and meet the others..."
"There are other animate necrotics?" she said.
"Er, quite," said Rath. "Now if you will excuse me... I must be going."
"Later," said Trynia, wandering off in the direction opposite of Rath. Quite an enigmatic fellow, she decided. Certainly well educated, not to mention sure of himself. A bit arrogant, but his heart was in the right place. Not much of a threat to the Princess. Part of her wanted to find this Damia. To listen to her concerns and at least show sympathy. For that was perhaps what the mummy required. Yet she was intrigued at the mention of other necrotics present.
* * *
Ja-Kal sighed heavily as he sat on the couch by the Spirit Box. Somehow even this magical device was not helping matters. He knew Menne was justified, but still he felt angry. For her to worry him like that... was so annoying. After all he was just doing his duty. Worse, Damia had Scarab within her grasp, and she just let him go. He had seen the evidence with his own eyes. He saw no spell that Scarab could have cast, for he knew Scarab's power was depleted.
"The load getting a bit heavy?" Rath said, sitting next to Ja-Kal.
"I'm supposed to be making decisions that are for the good of the group," said Ja-Kal. "What good are they if we are always arguing?"
"What? You aren't made of stone," said Rath. "You aren't a shabtie..."
"I could make mistakes if I let my own feelings cloud my judgement..."
"But you cannot deny your feelings. That would make you as bad as Scarab. The instant you feel no sympathy for others..."
"Rath, I don't want to neglect my duty... why Damia could be..."
"She isn't made of stone either," said Rath. "And she has weaknesses just like yourself. Please don't be so harsh upon her..."
Ja-Kal sighed heavily, and glanced at the spirit box. "I suppose I was rather harsh with her. I should apologize..."
"That is strongly advisable," said Rath, rising to his feet. "And there is no shame in admitting a mistake."
"Strange hearing that from you," Ja-Kal muttered as Rath strode away.
* * *
Trynia reached out with her em senses, sweeping the area for any signs. She read multiple traces emanating from the end of a long hallway. As she followed them, her eyes fell on a series of finely carved statues. Not the style of the Egyptians, they had a hint of the Greek influence. Clearly they were of Ja-Kal, Rath, and Armon. Yet her eyes fell on the female and the young boy. "That must be Rapses," she thought. And the other?
Trynia continued on, reaching out with her senses. Now within audio range came the shouts of a female voice, soprano pitched. She glimpsed the room, laden with exercise equipment. Armon, the mummy from last night appeared to be lifting large weights of iron or stone. Trynia was impressed with the amount of mass he was able to raise with the one arm. Without his armor, he appeared much less imposing. Almost cuddly and funny like what humans would call a teddy bear. His simple nature revealed inner strength and a heart of gold. Far above him somersaulted a spry figure. Her silvered hair flew like a banner as she whirled herself over a set of uneven parallel bars. It was the exact image of the woman in the statue...
However, now didn't seem a prudent time to interrupt their activity. For any loss in her concentration could spell injury for the acrobatic mummy girl. Trynia slipped by, and headed to the end of the hall. Faintly she could hear the sound of a chisel against marble. Was this the other guardian? As she emerged into the chamber, she heard a soft voice singing in ancient Greek, of all languages. Dust flew up from a large block of white marble in the center of the chamber. Large canvases sat on tripods, and paints of every shade lay on tables her and there. The source of the voice was a slender attractive female mummy with a chisel in hand. Expertly she carved excess stone from a tall slender figure. Trynia hid her smile when she realized it looked exactly like the Scribe.
The singing stopped as a pair of turquoise eyes registered Trynia. "Oh, hi there!" said the sculptor, putting down her chisel. "You must be Menne's friend... Tryniamerin was it?"
"That is correct," Trynia smiled, extending her one hand automatically to the mummy in green. "You are very talented..."
"Oh, my name's Lyris," said Lyris, stepping down from her ladder. Her slim hand slipped into Trynia's giving it a firm strong shake. Trynia was amazed at the strength in such delicate hands. Lyris didn't appear to have much muscle mass on those bones. As if she was undernourished in her youth. Yet she carried herself with such peace and tranquility it seemed to follow her as she showed off her other arts.
"I recognize that face," she smiled, indicating her latest statue.
"Oh, its nothing," she said, throwing a cloth over it hastily.
"Nothing? Your eye for detail is remarkable. Why, it almost seemed alive..."
"You flatter me," said Lyris.
"May I try?" asked Trynia, pointing to a canvas. "I don't mean to interrupt your work. There's no need to feel embarrassed. I won't tell the Scribe..."
Lyris laughed, and handed Trynia a brush. "I just stretched one today. Feel free to express yourself..."
Eagerly Trynia picked up a palate, and several tubes of paint. Her cybernetic hands soon smeared colors to so many hues it appeared as if a rainbow had spilled on eh flat surface. Together they worked, for a time, Lyris with her statue, and Trynia with her artwork. Compared to the Greco curves, the wild splotches of color on Trynia's painting fused into a coherent pastiche of form and design.
"By the way, Mennehotep said you were a bard?"
It was Trynia's turn to be modest. "That is her denotation. I am an anthropologist...."
"Where did you study?"
"Here and there," said Trynia, as she splattered herself accidentally with red. "I just picked things up as I went along."
"I studied some in Greece,"
"Ah, yes. I see the influence of Hellenistic style in your sculpture," said Trynia, brush flying animatedly across the canvas. Broad strokes of orange balanced the cool hues of green and ice blue."
Lyris turned her head, and glanced at Trynia's painting, shock on her face.. "Great Ra," she commented. "That looks like the paintings I see in the hall of Art... from this time. I cannot understand why they insist it is art, for it has no order or harmony. "
"Er, it's not my best work," said Trynia.
"It cannot be. For a painting such as that screams..."
"It is art, for it does not seek to recapture realism. Creative elements are balanced in form, shape, and substance, for art itself is a means of expressing one's passions and inner creativity. How limited you are in your view of what art is..."
"Where are you from?" Lyris asked, repulsed by the abstract swirls. "China? The land of the Picts?"
"Much farther way than that," said Trynia, scratching her head. "Actually, I am not what I seem..."
"Oh?" asked Lyris. There was something about this girl that made Trynia feel odd. A great sorrow bubbling just beneath the cheerful surface.
"Now that I am in this time, I must set the record straight. I am not like you... Not at all."
"You are from an even more distant land?"
"Outer space," said Trynia. "From another world hurtling around another star, in the night sky... but the ancient Egyptians could not comprehend this... as their view was... er mythologically based. And so I formulated an explanation that wouldn't upset them..."
"What... did you do?" asked Lyris.
"I study other peoples and their cultures," said Trynia. "The word that this century uses is 'anthropologist', I believe. I am simply an explorer... and a scientist."
"You must have traveled to many places," said Lyris, trying to understand. "And learned many songs..."
" As I was trying to tell Rath, I am an alien being not even from this world. That is why...."
"Heya, there she is!" laughed a sprightly voice. "What's up, Rys?"
"Hi Neff!" said Lyris, turning to the new arrivals. Armon and the silver haired girl wandered in, glancing all around the chamber. Hastily Lyris threw a cloth over her statue again.
"Ooh, pretty colors!" Armon gasped, eyes riveted to Trynia's painting.
"Wow," said Nefer-Tina. "Now that's definitely not Egyptian."
"This is Tryniamerin. You know, Menne's guardian?" said Lyris.
"Yeah. I heard you gave Scarab quite a whooping last night,"said Nefer-Tina, going over to Trynia. She extended her hand, covered in flecks of ochre and orange paint.
"I apologize for pigmentation," Trynia laughed. "I was attempting to express my creative apetites in petrolium based pigmentation and cotton interwoven fibres. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Nefer-Tina."
"Same here. Say, it's a good thing Rath won't see that. He'd throw a hissy fit!"
Lyris and Nefer-Tina looked at each other, and burst into a fit of giggles. Patiently Trynia smiled, and returned to her work. Armon continued to watch as her brush caressed the loaded canvas. Like a small child he was entranced, no hypnotized by the curves and splotches that combined into a coherent whole. "You are quite an athlete," Trynia said, her back to the two female necrotics.
"Armon said he spotted you going by. Why didn't ya say hi?"
"I didn't want to disturb you," said Trynia.
"Aw, come on," laughed Nefer-Tina. "No way! Anybody who can smash that many Shabties deserves all the respect I can give..."
"How did you?" asked Trynia.
"Armon here. He said, and I quote, she kicks tut as well as I do..."
"I did not," said Armon. "I said she kicks tut just like I do..."
"Whatever," said Nefer-Tina, casually shrugging.
Just then, Damia slowly wandered in. Trynia felt the bleakness of her mood as she approached. She couldn't help but turn around to face her. Armon glanced over as he saw Trynia's gaze wander from her painting. "Hello Damia," he said to her. "How are you..."
"Hey Armon," she sighed, trying to put on a brave face. "What's hanging?"
"Hello Damia," said Trynia. "Are you well today?"
"Don't ask," she responded, eyes glassy. "Getting reemed out by the fearless leader is just what I needed to start my day."
"Oh no," said Lyris, crossing over to her. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," she sighed. "Was he ever teed off! But you should've seen how Menne gave it to him. Really cored him back!"
"That must have been something to see," said Trynia, still feeling a bit guilty about having seen this second-hand. Yet she dare not reveal her knowledge. Eavesdropping was a considerable breach of etiquette.
"But you made only a little mistake," Armon said. "Scarab probably cast a spell on you. Do not worry..."
"I'm not high on his hit parade. More like his hit list."
"You acquitted yourself well from where I stood," said Trynia, trying to add her own sympathy to the mix. "You have my admiration."
"Thanks, girl," said Damia. "That means lots. Really. But it won't help me convince Ja-Kal. I blew it big-time..."
"The Hades with that," said Lyris.
"You know what you need?" said Nefer-Tina. "You need to get out. Party. Forget about your troubles."
"Yeah, like I need another chance to screw up," said Damia, annoyed. "That's just what happened last time...."
"We'll all go with you," said Nefer-Tina. "And we'll say its because we're showing Tryn here the new time..."
"You would?" said Trynia with excitement. "I would like that very much. To observe the people of this time period..."
"Then it's wired," said Nefer-Tina. "Tonight we paint the town. Rys, me, Menne, Damia, and Tryn. Just us girls!"
"Oh boy," said Armon. "Will Ja-Kal like it?"
"If he doesn't, I'll kick his tut!" laughed Nefer-Tina. "Or sick Princess Menne on him!"
Trynia smiled patiently, and couldn't help but laugh out loud.
* * *
In front of a long mirror the mummy girls tried various combinations. Nefer-Tina had her usual red skirt and black vest on. Lyris wore blue jeans and a sweatshirt, and Princess Menne looked comfortable in a purple two piece suit with double breasted jacket. Trynia glanced through the piles of clothes, in vain for something to fit her stocky sturdy body.
Till she found the loose baggy overalls and long sleeved shirt. Eagerly she exchanged the Egyptian clothes for these, and donned hiking boots. A remarkable transformation occurred before there eyes. With her hair french braided, she looked almost modern! As at home in those 20th century clothes as Presley! Cosmetics concealed her metallic cheek well. All that remained were a pair of transparent discs she slid over her eyes in a metal frame.
"Glasses?" they all wondered.
"I require them, for viewing at proximity,"said she.
"But aren't you... er enhanced with machines?" asked the others.
"To an extent," Trynia laughed. "But the light from your sun requires a set of eyes rather different from mine. Micro tinted lenses are the best means of correcting my vision. If you look closely you can see the faint rosy hue to the lenses..."
Trynia, Damia, Nefer-Tina, and Menne all headed out to the local clubs. They took the local trolleys, loaded with pockets full of those round pieces with the Pharaoh George Washington on them.
Trynia gripped the metal bar as the vehicle lurched ahead. Nefer-Tina and Menne had managed to grab a seat as some people had spilled off. They chatted and exchanged answers and questions with silvery laughter. Yet Damia kept to herself, sitting quietly as she thoughtfully glanced out the window at the moving lines of traffic. "What's running through your mind?" Trynia asked her, out of earshot of the other two females.
"Oh... nothing,' said Damia, not even facing Trynia.
"Your companions appear quite happy and anxious about our destination... and yet you are not..."
"No, I'll be fine, really," said Damia.
"Come one. I'm an anthropologist, and I study sentient behavior. It is not easy to fool me..."
"It's personal," said she.
"Oh," nodded Trynia, understanding that it was not a subject to be discussed in public surroundings.
"There it is, gals!" said Nefer-Tina, pointing to a cluster of lights that flickered. A long line of people queued amidst red ropes before a light encrusted pavilion.
"Not the Inferno, I hope," said Mennehotep.
"No way," said Nefer-Tina. "This new place just opened. It's called the Nile Delta..."
"Oh crazy!" laughed Damia, perking up. "That place with the so called Egyptian theme?"
"I thought it would be good for a few laughs," said Nefer-Tina.
They all pushed and shoved off the transport as the trolley car shrieked to a stop. Trynia landed firmly on the asphalt as the others raced across the street. There seemed to be this necessary ritual of following one after the other, dodging the racing lines of cars that advanced in a slow crawl. Next ritual seemed to involve standing in the line outside the place as they waited to get inside.
"This is also one of those places where you don't need ID to get in," laughed Damia.
"Where would we get ID's anyway?" asked Mennehotep. "That was something we didn't have in ancient Egypt."
"Maybe we could get Rath to invent us some," laughed Damia.
Trynia smiled. At last Damia appeared to be in the mood. One by one the line snaked around. Already she could feel the thumping of a base beat from within the tall structure. The "club" was on the first floor of a high skyscraper. It rose far into the evening above them to an invisible point in the sky.
"Good evening ladies!" said the bouncer cheerfully. "Can I see some ID?"
Anxiously the three mummy girls exchanged surprised glances. Trynia strode up to the man, a smile on her face. "Hi there," she said.
"Hello. Can I see some ID?"
"Sure. It's right here..." she said, extending her hand. Within her palm flashed a strange plastic object. He narrowed his eyes, peering at it. Then his eyes met hers for an instant. Was that a flash of strobe light that flickered there?
"Good going. Have a good time," he said as Trynia hastened the others past.
"What did you do?" asked Mennehotep.
"I provided holographic proof of ID," said she.
"What?"
"I hypnotized him into thinking that you all had ID," said Trynia, looking a bit guilty.
"Don't worry," said Mennehotep. "It's all right under the circumstances..."
"I thought you said they didn't card," said Damia to Nefer-Tina accusingly.
"Well..." said she, raising her arms defenselessly into a shrug.
Trynia felt the pounding force of the disco beat. Each pulse resonated a chord within her, rousing her gold-wired limbs to sway. Ever so slightly she moved with the music. It wasn't so slight that the others failed to notice. Within seconds Trynia was among the others on the floor itself, gyrating and stamping to the base.
"Wow, can she dance," gasped Nefer-Tina appreciatively.
"Come on, Menne!" laughed Damia, as she jumped after Trynia. "Work it out, girlfriend!"
Menne and Nefer-Tina could no longer resist the urge to join them. Soon all four women grooved to the loud techno. Among the ring of tables surrounding the dance floor, waitresses seemed to swim with trays of beverages. Tiny lights danced across the floor and glinted off the imitation gold of the waitress's sequined dresses. A hundred youths moved in their baggy jeans and mini clubbing skirts in unison to a common song. So charged was the atmosphere it thrived with positive energy. Trynia drank in the excitement with all the eagerness of partygoers at the Feast of Sobkh.
An hour later they surfaced for rest. Trynia hardly seemed winded from her exertion. Menne practically dragged her after herself to sit down. "Anyone for pomegranate juice?" asked Nefer-Tina.
"Are you joking?" asked Mennehotep. "I hope they have beer..."
"I would imagine that beverage is quite popular," said Trynia. "Judging from the glasses charged around here. But it's odd when you consider that you all had beer in ancient Egypt, and people in this century still seem to consume a similar brew..."
"Thank Ra for the blessings of this time," Damia laughed. Combinations of beer, and of soft drinks soon appeared on their tables. They laughed at the gaudy parodies of Egyptian costumes the waiters and waitresses wore.
"Now I can see why you took me here," laughed Damia.
"It worked. That's the first good laugh you've had all day," said Nefer-Tina.
"Good to see you smiling again," Menne added to the Charioteer's words.
"What is up with you?" asked Nefer-Tina, nudging Damia.
"It's really personal," she sighed, shouting to make herself heard over the techno beat.
"Come on, you can tell us," said Mennehotep.
"Why was Ja-Kal so hard on you?" asked Nefer-Tina. Menne's eyes darkened.
"It's okay," said Damia. "He was mad that I let Scarab go..."
"Didn't Armon say he thought you were enchanted?"
"That's probably it," said Mennehotep.
"Not that simple," said Trynia quietly.
Damia glanced at her. How could the servant of Mennehotep know? It was as if the brown eyes peered past the layers of her reserve, and saw the ugly secret in all its glory.
"Well, it has to do with me and Scarab," said Damia.
"What has one to do with the other," said Nefer-Tina.
"It does sound like a comparison of dissimilar objects," said Mennehotep.
"More than you think," muttered Trynia.
* * *
"Steerike!" shouted Armon, shaking his fist with a flourish.
"Oh, for the love of Ptah," Rath groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead.
From behind the scoreboard Presley eagerly pencilled in the score. It was the 7th frame, and Rath and Armon were still behind Lyris, Ja-Kal, and Presley. But the day could still be won if Rath could just get his act together.
"This is bowling, not brain surgery," Presley taunted Rath.
His slender hands enclosed around one of the swirled spheres. "I don't know how you ever talked me into this tomfoolery," he sighed, inserting his fingers into the appropriate holes. The ball almost tore his arm off as he lowered it.
"Rath, try a 12 pounder, not a 20," said Lyris, coming over towards him.
"Mind you, I do know what I'm doing," Rath sniffed, replacing the ball with the appropriate size. His green eyes narrowed as he mentally calculated the best trajectory for the ball...
Ja-Kal took his seat near Presley, and they both watched as the Scribe took two steps forward, and swung down his arm. Expertly the ball curled towards the third and second pins. There was a thunderous crash as all nine pins fell. "Another stunning example of mind over..." he began. Until Lyris turquoise eyes indicated the lane. All pins were down, save the last which teetered on the brink. Annoyed, Rath sent the ball hurtling into the offending pin. "Frame!" shouted Armon.
"I believe the term is 'spare'," Rath sighed, impatiently.
"Oh, sorry," said Armon. "But it is another frame... right o Prince..."
"Yeah. Got me there..." said Presley.
"It is good to see you happy," said Ja-Kal to Presley.
"Yeah, it's great," said Presley, absorbed in score keeping. "Mom's okay, and it's cool."
"Aren't you afraid that she may still be in danger?" Lyris began, but fell silent by a look from Ja-Kal.
"The wounded rabbit is scarce a target for the wolf who wishes to bring down a mighty gazelle," said Ja-Kal.
"Huh?" asked Presley and Armon. Lyris slowly got up to bowl, reaching for an eight pound ball that had just rolled back into the semicircular trough.
"What he means is," said Rath. "Is that since your mother was not the intended target of Scarab's attack, why should he waste time going after her again?"
"Oh yeah," said Presley. Somehow he still felt worried about his mother. This was the first time she'd been hurt as a result of Scarab's attack. And he didn't want it to happen again.
As Rath sat down, he was grateful for some measure of silence, and the distinct absence of multiple groups of females. It was past peak hour, and they were only one of five groups using the lanes. Tracing back in his mind, the girls laughed and chattered like a pack of monkeys. The more in one space, the higher the noise level. Certainly this was the case this night as all the female mummies seemed to gather for a "ladies night out."
Ja-Kal, Presley, Armon, and Rath all decided to do the same sort of thing. Except the male version. Which meant all heading out to some undisclosed location that seemed spectacular. But in reality none of them knew quite where to go. Finally they settled on the local bowling alley. Lyris tagged along for curiosity's sake. Besides, who would Rath have to talk to otherwise. And conveniently there was a movie plex nearby where they could go see the latest flicks.
However Rath had so involved himself in the mastery of "bowling" that Lyris failed to pry him away, much to her disappointment. However, if she showed any sign of it now, it was fleeting. She and Ja-Kal were whipping his team. And it wasn't something that they could blame on Armon either. If anything he was getting most of the strikes.
Rath shivered. He thought of Damia, and Mennehotep. Something about Damia made his magical sense danger. Trynia seemed to sense something they were all missing. And her quiet wisdom had his admiration. Why did he feel as if this was just the beginning of their problems?
* * *
"Well, don't keep us in suspense," said Nefer-Tina.
"Yes, we're your friends," said Mennehotep.
Anxiously Damia glanced at Trynia. Slowly Trynia nodded, as if she understood how difficult it was for Damia to spill her secret. "Er, well," she began. "It's like this... see."
All leaned forwards into the center of the table as she drew in a deep breath. Eyes widened in anticipation of the admission. "Scarab... has a hold on me..." she said. "And it's not something I was aware of... till now..."
"And..." said Nefer-Tina.
"He's my..."
Suddenly the lights flickered. In a second the pounding techno whirled into silence. Shouts and gasps of anger replaced the music, accompanied by hisses and jeers. Over the loudspeaker echoed a man's voice, "Do not panic. The Delta has temporarily incurred the wrath of the god of the power plant. Stay where you are, and do not panic..."
Jeers turned to screams and cries as a series of loud bangs rocked the structure. "Get Down!" Trynia shouted, pushing Mennehotep to the floor. She shoved her under the protection of the table. Nefer-Tina and Damia slipped under as well.
"What in the Name of Ra is with you?" Nefer-Tina demanded.
"An attack!" said Trynia. "I sense that same malevolent presence..."
"Scarab," Damia shivered. "He's come for me."
No one noticed her last phrase. For the screams grew louder.
"With the Strength of Ra!" Nefer-Tina shouted, grabbing her amulet.
Simultaneously Mennehotep and Damia grabbed theirs, chanting, "With the Wisdom of Isis!"
All looked to Trynia. She sighed, and took hold of hers. "Offensive mode, Activate!"
The four burst forth from under the table, blazing with energy. Already Shabties moved about the panicking guests, laser blazing wildly. "Damia, make sure everyone gets out okay!" Mennehotep shouted. "Trynia, you're with me to my right. Nefer-Tina, to my left... scatter them..."
All nodded, and sprang into action. Like a well oiled machine they followed her commands, and she cartwheeled into action. Her amethyst clawed boots cut a swath through the middle. Light gleamed off the gold wires and plating on Trynia's legs and arms. Energized, the cybernetics plated in Egyptian gold were now visible overtop her bandages. A white Egyptian kilt hung around her knees, and on her hand that wasn't covered in gold was a sapphire blue gauntlet. A matching collar and chest plate encased her torso, and a headdress much like the one she wore before protected her head. Her fists shattered with incredible force as she masterfully applied blows in all the weak points. Nefer-Tina's whip cracked and flailed on Menne's right.
Damia chaperoned the hordes of partygoers out the exits. Because it was an Egyptian theme club, they thought little of her costume. They assumed she was one of the staff, and obeyed her easily without question. Soon the place was emptied of patrons.
But not Shabties. And some of them seemed made of marble! "Watch out," said Mennehotep. "We may be in for an encounter with Kara!"
"How right you are!" laughed a familiar voice. For the golden lioness leapt into view. Nefer-Tina found herself face to face with her equal in Bastet armor.
Granite statues ringed Trynia and Mennehotep. But undaunted, Trynia flew into rapid action. Golden fingers slashed out, scratching cracks here and there.
Kara looked up and laughed. "You have no chance..."
But fine hairline cracks snaked around the legs, and they all shattered. Kara flung Nefer-Tina towards Trynia. But Nefer-Tina righted herself and twisted around to face Kara again.
Lasers blazed towards Trynia. She stopped them easily and spun to face a figure in black armor, a sneer on his face. A single jeweled eyepatch decked his cylindrical helmet. She turned to face him as he advanced upon her.
Mennehotep spotted Scarab. He aimed blasts towards Damia, who was ringed in Shabties. Spreading her wings, she flew to the rescue. Lighting snaked towards Scarab as she swooped down. Levering herself up with her staff, Damia flew up. Neatly Mennehotep caught her wrists, and flew her to safety. Damia's chakram sung out as it decapitated a whole line of Shabties. Scarab raised his arms, snarling.
Trynia wrestled with her strange opponent. Desperately his claws latched around her arms, and pushed her down. Gritting her teeth, she levered up against him, and pushed. Arakh grunted, and flipped over, losing his balance. With a single punch Trynia knocked him senseless.
She turned her attention to Kara, who had Nefer-Tina at a disadvantage. Her gold hand neatly grabbed Kara by the scruff of her neck, and pulled her off. Howling, she flew into the darkness of the club. "Thanks," said Nefer-Tina, as Trynia helped her up. Menne landed with Damia, only a few feet from them.
In the shadows Scarab seethed with rage. How could they have defeated him and his allies so easily. He rushed out of the shadows, magic bolts blazing at them. Mennehotep surrounded them with a sphere of energy. Harmlessly the bolts were deflected.
Suddenly Kara leapt out of the shadows. She aimed her mystical blasts in the same direction, hammering at the other side of Menne's barrier. Arakh revived, and joined them. Three sources of energy hammered at the sphere. Menne's face strained as she struggled to keep it up.
"Let me out!" Damia said. "I'll distract them..."
Fox and cat leapt out as Menne temporarily dropped her barrier, flying towards Scarab and Arakh. Kara and Menne now only faced each other, on more equal terms. But Mennehotep suddenly weakened as Kara's relentless blasts continued.
As Damia approached Scarab, she faltered. Those red eyes fixed firmly upon her, imploringly.
Nefer-Tina managed to subdue Arakh, wrapping him in her whip. Trynia turned to help Mennehotep. "Leave her be, Kara!" she shouted.
"Ah... it's you!" laughed Kara. "After so many centuries I can hardly believe it..."
Trynia fell upon Kara, who showered her with mystic blasts. Harmlessly they were deflected by the anthropologist. "Stay back!" she cried.
"It's time for you to stop this," said Trynia, as she grabbed the Lioness.
"Unhand me, minion!" she shouted.
Menne recovered, and her eyes fell upon a silver disk that suddenly flew in Nefer-Tina's direction. "Look out!" she cried.
But the chakram sliced cleanly through Nefer-Tina's whip. Arakh was free. Instantly his blast felled Nefer-Tina. A blast from Scarab hit Menne, and she crumpled. Trynia hurled Kara at Scarab, and raced to her mistress' side. Grabbing Mennehotep, she helped her to stand.
"No... get help," Menne gasped.
"I've got to protect you," she began, and both whirled around to face Scarab. He'd caught Kara neatly in his arms, and lowered her to the ground. But on his other side stood the Fox.
"Damia," gasped Nefer-Tina from eh floor. "Why?"
"Why don't you ask my father?" she asked, pointing to Scarab.
"What?" gasped Mennehotep, leaning against Trynia. Grimly the alien whirled about.
"She has a lot of me in her doesn't she?" sneered Scarab, as he lay a hand on her shoulder. "Now. Let me put it plainly..."
"He only wants Trynia to build something for him... And he'll give her every part for nothing..." said Damia. "Just put Mennehotep down and step forwards..."
"Very Well," said Trynia, putting Menne down on the floor. Slowly she stepped forwards.
"No!" cried Nefer-Tina.
"I have only one choice," said Trynia, glancing at Mennehotep. "You will take me instead?"
"An equal transaction."
Mennehotep lowered her barrier. Slowly and determined, Trynia stepped forwards. Quickly Trynia grabbed Arakh's hand, and pried it off of Nefer-Tina. Her eyes met those of Trynia, urging her to leave while the going was good. Quickly the cat guardian backed away, towards Mennehotep.
Kara and Scarab raised their hands, and fired blasts at Mennehotep. Weakly her barrier stopped their blasts again. "Stop it!" shouted Trynia, putting herself between them. "She's in no shape to fight..."
"Treacherous barbarians!" shouted Mennehotep. Angrily Trynia fell upon their enemies.
"Get her out of here, Nefer Tina!" she cried, racing to attack Scarab and Kara. Scarab and Kara rained her with more blasts, and she simply punched them aside. Grabbing Nefer-Tina, Mennehotep spread her wings.
"We cannot just leave her..." said Nefer-Tina.
"We must," said Mennehotep wearily. "You being a guardian should know why..."
"I know how to deal with her,' said Kara, and she grabbed two wires in her hands. Trynia screamed and collapsed as her circuits were scrambled by a vast influx of electrical energy...
* * *
They rushed from the bowling alley the instant their amulets wailed disaster. Rath clicked his tongue in irritation as he glanced at his ankh. Anxiously Ja-Kal glanced left and right as if searching for an enemy to fight. "It's as I feared," said Rath. "Scarab has struck! I am reading his trace in close proximity with two others..."
"Who?" asked Presley.
"My Prince, three enemies have once again joined against us..."
"Mennehotep," Ja-Kal breathed, and felt his heart skip a beat, if it had been alive.
"Rath," gasped Lyris. "Is the Princess in Danger, and the others..."
"Who?" asked Armon, impatient.
"From the looks of things... Kara, and Arakh are there as well!"
Ja-Kal's eyes darkened with anger. "With the Strength of Ra!" he shouted, blazing into armor.
"Wait, you can't just go..." said Rath.
"Get the Prince home, and stay with him..." said Ja-Kal to the others. "I must rescue the others..."
"You can't go alone!" protested Rath. "We're a team..."
"But..."
"He's right," said Presley. "I'm the Prince, and I say we all go!"
"I cannot argue with that," said Ja-Kal. "But you must keep pace with me... and woe to Scarab when I get my hands on him if one hair on Her Majesty's head is harmed!"
With those words he took off in a streak of gold towards the west. Everyone piled into he Hot-Ra and followed.
* * *
Nefer-Tina supported Mennehotep as they landed. Wearily she deactivated her armor. "I know what you're thinking, Neff," she gasped. "I was awful for leaving Trynia...."
"You did what you had to," said Nefer-Tina, lifting the visor of her cat mask.
Just then they looked up to see a brilliant gold speck. "Ja-Kal," they both breathed. Quickly he circled, before assessing the situation. Distantly they heard the roar of the Hot-Ra's engine as it approached mere leagues behind. Light flashing off his wings, Ja-Kal soared in for a landing.
He rushed to Nefer-Tina and the Princess. "Are you unharmed?" he asked, reaching hands out to each. Nefer-Tina slipped her arm under the Princess, taking most of her weight.
"I'm fine, but Menne's washed out," she said, trying to be brave for the Hunter.
Rath leapt from behind the wheel, and raced towards them, Lyris on his heels. Lyris went to her friend's side, fussing over her. Carefully Ja-Kal gathered Mennehotep into his arms, while Rath examined her with gentle probing fingers. Armon and Presley watched anxiously.
"What happened?" asked Rath to Nefer-Tina.
"They have Trynia," gasped Mennehotep. "And it was my fault... my decision... I left her behind..."
"You did what you had to do," said Rath, taking her hand. "Don't blame yourself."
"She was really something," said Nefer-Tina. "Taking on Scarab and Kara at once..."
"We've gotta save her," said Lyris.
"Wait, what happened to Damia?" Ja-Kal asked.
"She... she..." gasped Menne, and her eyes flickered with weariness.
"Easy," said Rath, patting her arm. He turned to Nefer-Tina.
"What?" asked Ja-Kal, eyes narrowing.
"She's defected... to the enemy," said Nefer-Tina solemnly. "Because...."
"She's Scarab's daughter," said Mennehotep.
"No,' gasped Armon, shock filling his face.
"It's true," said Mennehotep, from Ja-Kal's arms.
"We must go to Scarab's lair," said Mennehotep. "Before he does something awful to Trynia..."
"What would he want her for?" asked Lyris.
"I know she has great scientific knowledge..." mused Rath. "Hmm."
"How can she help Scarab?" asked Presley. "What does she have with him wanting to be immortal and all?"
"That's it," said Rath. "Mennehotep, didn't you say Trynia knows how to cross the barriers of time?"
"Yes," said Menne. "She was always trying to build a machine that mastered time. Like the one she came in."
"Did she ever build it?" asked Rath.
"No. She always failed," said Mennehotep. "Said we didn't understand..."
"That's it," said Rath. "Scarab must want her to build one for him. And if he masters time, he will be able to make himself young forever..."
All of the guardians shivered at the prospect. "But that means he may leave Presley alone," said Armon.
"But we can't let Scarab win," said Presley. "Or let him get away with grabbing Trynia..."
"You are right, Oh Prince," said Ja-Kal. "She gave herself for Menne and Nefer-Tina. We must save her..."
* * *
The small mudbrick house was so comfortable and familiar to Damia. Like a warm blanket it enfolded her as she walked within. A small fire crackled cheerfully in the grating. A woman, rose from her stool and met Damia, her arms extended warmly. Damia stepped forwards, into the arms of the waiting woman, and was enfolded with love.
From the shadows came the tall man, his eyes heavily traced with kohl. The caramel colored skin glowed in the firelight, a mirror of Damia's complexion. The brown eyes twinkled as he embraced both mother and daughter with pride. "You have fought bravely today," he said to Damia, as he took the spear from her hands. "Come, sit by the fire, and be fed with the family."
"Father, I didn't expect to see you today..." she said, confused for a moment. Just the tiniest moment she could see a woman sitting in the center of the room, gold glistening on her cheek. Then the woman vanished, to be replaced by that of her mother leaning over the carved wooden table as she ground barley for the daily meal. The gold arm ring on her left upper arm glistened in the firelight with hieroglyphics. For as long as Damia recalled she'd worn it.
A young man leaned against the mantlepiece by the fire. Was that a patch over his one eye? "We have a visitor?" she asked, shaking the cobwebs that had suddenly sprung into her mind.
"I am his majesty's spear bearer," said the man proudly, pushing dark braided hair from his face. He was handsome, and closely resembled a certain hunter she knew.
"You know him well, said her Father, eyes glancing into hers. Of course she knew him. He often visited their home...
Her mother smiled, a sparkle in her green eyes. Damia hadn't noticed that before. Wait, it was just a trick of the light. Her mother had brown eyes, like her own. "That was some battle," said the Spear bearer, as he and Damia slipped off their armor and weaponry, placing it to one side. Mother carefully set it in the corner out of the way. Father slipped his kilt and robe beneath him, and sat at the warmest place on the hearth. He set his serpentine staff against the wall. For a second it looked as if it were alive. But she knew her father was a wizard, able to turn any staff into a serpent. A basic trick with most wizards in the Kingdom.
"Our enemies nearly had us there," Father said, taking his pottery mug, and filling it with freshly brewed beer. "But Damia saved the day. She fooled our enemies into thinking she was one of them... then at the crucial moment, she surprised them."
"The Bastet follower had a lot of fight in her," said the Spear bearer, as Damia poured beer for him as well. "But with your help she was fairly tamed..."
"But what about the Isis priestess?" asked Damia. "Was I right to let her go?"
"Yes," said Mother, a gleam in her eyes. "She is my sister after all. And I will settle my differences with her in my own time..."
"I didn't know she was my aunt," said Damia, a bit confused.
"I didn't' mention her much," said Mother. "After all, she did run away from the family... against our mother's wishes."
Damia hadn't recalled that. But lately her memory was rather strange. For strange images kept creeping up in her head. Of tall glass mountains and chariots without horses. She could recall just the other day running into her friends, only they were clothed in wrappings. And her father...
A sharp pain shot through her head. Concerned, her father rushed to her side. "My dear child whatever is the matter?"
"I hurt,' she gasped. "My head feels like it will burst."
"You having those nightmares again?" he soothed, draping an arm over her shoulders. Slowly his hands moved, massaging her temples. At his touch the pain dissipated.
"How do you do it?" asked the Spear Bearer.
"Simple elementary spells," said Father, shaking his bald head with some arrogance. "Now daughter, tell Daddy all about your dreams. Perhaps they are some portent of the future..."
"It's silly," said she. "But sometimes they seem so real to me."
"Perhaps you have inherited the second sight," said Father. "It is entirely possible. We must work to improve those gifts..."
Suddenly she heard a moan from the center of the room. As she glanced, she saw a woman squatted there. Before her she was piecing together a strange contraption of wires and crystal. Far more elaborate than anything Damia had ever seen. Intrigued, she slipped rom her bench, and left her Father's side. "What... who?"
"That's your mother's new serving woman," said Father hastily, taking her shoulders, and turning her away from the sight. "I gave her as a gift to your mother last week. Why should the consort of the Vizier have anything but the best help..."
"But what is she making?" asked Damia, glancing over her father's shoulder with intense curiosity.
"Dinner of course," said her Mother. For when she looked up again, the woman was grinding meal in a stone mortar, her braided hair falling around her shoulders. She wore the simple dress of an average Egyptian, her dark skin contrasting against the white linen dress. But something gold glittered on her one bare arm. As if there was a series of gold plates and wires that glimmered on her skin in the torchlight of the small house.
Damia blinked, and saw bare skin. What was going on here?
Suddenly the Spear Bearer leaned over to Father, and whispered something in his ear. Straitening up, he took Damia aside. "I have a very important errand I must run," he announced.
"Father, must you leave?" she asked. "We hardly ever get to see you anymore..."
"I am a busy man, for Amenhotep," he explained, trying to be patient. "I must go. But I have a job for Mother and you. You must stay here, and wait for my return. Oh, and watch the servant. She is a bit flighty from time to time."
Father took his long gold robe from its peg, and put his tall headdress on his bald head. The spear bearer took up his armor, and put it on quickly. One after the other they slipped from the room. Mother closed the door after them. For a moment she looked anxiously out the window. Then she turned to Damia. "Stay here. I need to go for a moment..."
"Mother, what's going on?"
"Please, do as I say. I'll be right back. I just forgot something at the market..."
"But I want to come with you..."
"No. You must stay with the servant. Make sure she finishes her task. We must have food for tonight's meal. But beware, she is a bit crazed in the head. From time to time she gets delusions. Don't' talk to her anymore than you must..."
"I don't understand... this doesn't make sense," she shook her head.
"Make father proud, like the Amazon you are..."
As Mother left, Damia shook her head. As she glanced at her arms, she glimpsed bandages swathing them. Blinking the next moment they were gone. She was clad in a simple skin loincloth and halter top. Unlike other Egyptian women, she wore an Amazonian outfit. Much like her mother used to. But Mother was a simple housekeeper. Why did she no longer dress as befit an Amazon? Thinking for a moment she realized the answer. To avoid undue suspicion. For when Damia went into the streets, she wore a cloak over her outfit. Till she reached the Palace, and could move as an Amazon. She had to be very careful... Even though every day people in town saw her about in her armor, they knew she was a special Amazon warrior. But if they suspected her mother...
Father had taken her in. Given her a new identity. No one knew she was an Amazon warrior, one of whom had fought Pharaoh's army in an expedition to Asia Minor. How she was a captive...
All details eluded her. It didn't make sense. She strode over to the serving woman, confused. Again the mortar and pestle were replaced by a strange contraption of brass, gold, and quartz crystal. "What are you making?" she demanded, grabbing the servant by the front of her linen dress. Strangely the dress didn't feel like one piece. More like a series of linen strips... like what they'd wrap the dead in!
"Damia, I'm a captive," said the woman, grabbing her wrist with a strength that belied her stocky form. She looked strong, but this was a grip like a vise. "You must open your eyes and see."
"Of course you are. You're a slave..." said Damia quickly.
"I am no slave to your father..." said the woman. "I serve Mennehotep."
"Who is... wait, that's the priestess of Isis we fought," said Damia.
"She is my mistress. But I serve her out of gratitude... and if I don't build this time machine for your Father, he will destroy Menne and Nefer-Tina..."
"But they escaped," said Damia. Then the woman's eyes brightened, adn Damia knew she'd been testing her. A verbal trap.
"What do you mean,' snapped Damia trying to wrench her hand free. "Release me at once..."
"You don't understand," sighed the woman. "I can see it in your face. This all seems so real to you. You think you're home..."
"Where else would I be?"
"What do your warrior's instincts tell you?"
"I am in my father's house."
"If your father is Vizier of Egypt, why would he live in such a hovel? He would live in a grand palace..."
"But this is a secret place... for none know I am his daughter..."
"Right," said Trynia. At last Damia remembered her name. "And what is your father's name..."
"Scarab, of course. But wait..."
"Yes. What does that name remind you of?"
"He was... attacking my friend Nefer-Tina. And the Prince! Prince Rapses..."
"He wants the Prince's soul," said Trynia. "And eternal life with it..."
"But no... not my father... but he did..." she said. "I'm so confused..."
Colors swirled around in her brain. She reached out to Trynia, who said, "Look at me. Look at my face. Does this look real to you?"
She glimpsed the gold on one cheek. Against the flesh. The gold swam against her eyes. "No, my mother said you'd trick me..."
"What would I have to gain from that?" asked Trynia. "Does this make sense? Does anything make sense?"
Damia dug into her mind. Reality came in jagged strips. She blinked, seeing ghostly images before her eyes. Her instinct screamed that this was not real. Then she opened them. Trynia was swathed in strange wrappings, smelling of resin and natrium. But she was clothed in white clean linen. And the fire was not a real fire. Her brown eyes flashed with an almost inhuman light. "This isn't my home!" she gasped. For a grand chamber now rose around them. Mud bricks were replaced with white plastered walls. A glass ceiling kept back the splendor of Nut high above. The rough table smoothed and blurred into a fine art deco desk. And Trynia's mortal became the strange fusion of brass, gold circuitry, and crystalline rods.
"That's it! Your mind is fighting for control. You are an amazon... no prison can hold you, Damia. Fight it..."
"No," she gasped. "My Father finally came for me! He loves me... he brought me home..."
"This is his home." said Trynia. "But I am a prisoner here.. And so are you."
"You're lying," said Damia coldly, as Trynia released her grasp. But the room did not change. Perhaps it was shock.
A man in a black robe entered the room. His wrinkled face and pallid flesh looked nothing like those of the man who had been there mere minutes before. But the eyes were the same. "My Daughter," he said. "Good. She is still building the device," said he.
"What's going on," she demanded, going to his side. "You are... my father... but why did you throw a spell that made me think I was in Egypt again... with Mother?"
"A simple precaution," said Scarab. "Your enemies had deceived you, and to stop you from going mad, I threw an illusion. I feared my own appearance would frighten you..."
His hands rested on her shoulders. She felt a weird sensation as they patted her back. Was it love or intense fear that made her shiver now? The voice was the same. And yet this was the same person who...
"Come, sit and eat with me," he urged, sitting her down into one of the plush chairs across his vast chamber. He took the seat across from her. Automatically she turned to face him, eyes still unsure. A tray laden with all sorts of rich food sat there. She found herself taking bites of the pastry, and sips of coffee. Her eyes drifted over to Trynia, hard at work soldering circuits and wires into place on the machine.
"What is that?"
"A time machine," said Trynia simply. "This was how I got to your century in Ancient Egypt. It was what broke there, and because of the limited technology of the Egyptians, I had no way to repair it. And my oath to preserve history meant that I could only use their technology to repair it. I could help them only to a limited extent to learn more science. But I had to be so careful I didn't affect the over all course of history..."
"I am helping her," said Scarab. "Now in this century she has microchips, and metaprocessors, and electricity. She can repair it... and return home!"
"How wonderful," smiled Damia. But something made her frown. "But... she said she is a captive..."
"She can leave whenever she wants, once the machine is complete..." said Scarab.
"I must pay a price," said Trynia, looking up.
"But aren't you just helping her for the sake of it?" asked Damia.
"I don't do this for fun. Your father..."
"I am old. And I do expect payment for services rendered. You see Damia, dear, if she makes this time machine, then I can use it to become young..."
"Is that why you attacked the Prince."
"I have seen the error of my ways," said Scarab, eyes lowered. "This machine, if it works, can reverse my ageing. Then I won't even need to trouble the poor boy at all. Then in return, Trynia can use the machine to go home..."
"And you will stop attacking the mummies?" asked Damia, eyes piercing into his.
"I will have no grudge against them," said Scarab.
But the look in Trynia's eyes said otherwise. She could say what was on her mind. But something must be preventing her from talking. Those eyes implored her. She had to examine the logic of things. Why would Scarab, her own father cast a spell on her making her think she was home. And why would he simply not ask for Trynia's help, instead of holding her captive...
Just then they heard shouts and cries. Arakh flew backwards, grunting as a hawk armored figure wrestled with him. Kara too tumbled into the room, a turquoise Jakal clawing at her chest. Two other armored figures burst into the room, a Ram and a Cobra.
"Damia!" shouted the Jakal armored woman. "You've gotta snap out of it..."
"Lyris?" asked Damia, recognizing the voice. "Father, what is going on here..."
Scarab leapt up from the desk, and turned to face Rath, who landed with a series of artistic flips on the table. The floor rumbled as the Ram pounded the carpet, sending Damia to her knees. She glanced up into a familiar face. "Are you okay?" Armon gasped, running up to her as Scarab and Rath fell to blows.
"I think so..." she said, as he helped her up. "Boy, I'd hate to be on your bad side..."
"Get away from her!" shouted Scarab, and he aimed a blast at Armon. Grunting, Armon dropped to one knee. Damia activated her armor, and turned to her father.
"Why did you..."
Ja-Kal's arrow blazed past Damia, as he wrestled his bow from Arakh. Anger rose in her, and she hurled her chakram at him. The bow spun from his grasp. She helped Armon to his feet, totally confused. Armon was her friend. But Scarab was her father.
Armon rushed to Trynia's side. Noticing the mystical shackles that held her, he gripped them in his golden hand. "I'll have you outta here in no time..." he grunted.
"Watch out, Fighter," said she, as a shock rushed through the Mummy's hand. "It's electrified."
Rath's quepesh clanged against Scarab's staff. "That's gonna leave a mark," Heka lamented.
Damia rushed to attack Ja-Kal, spear upraised. Having subdued Arakh, he turned to fight her. "Traitor!" he cried. "You left Menne to die..."
"They attacked Scarab..." she said. "Just when I found out..."
"You are a traitor!" he cried, rushing at her. Damia's hands clasped with his, stopping them from throttling her.
"Its not my fault I'm Scarab's daughter!" she snapped. The words sounded strange as they slipped from her lips.
"What?" gasped Ja-Kal, straining against her as she pushed against his gauntled hands. "You can't be serious."
"It's the truth," said she, levering upwards with all her strength. "So sue me..."
"I had no idea," he gasped, as their grasp broke suddenly. True to Newton's laws, the equal and opposite reaction threw both backwards.
Armon wrenched the enchanted chains apart. "There you are," he said to Trynia. "Free."
"My thanks," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "Now I can act..."
Everyone stopped fighting as Damia covered Ja-Kal with her long Amazon spear. "Surrender, or your leader will loose his head."
"Damia, listen to me," Trynia said.
"What for?" asked Damia. "I can't change what I am. I am my father's daughter, and I have chosen my path. I must fight for my family..."
"Your father was a good man once," said Trynia. "Perhaps. But he had a choice in his destiny. You face a similar choice. Don't make the same one..."
"Join me, Damia," said Scarab. "We will never need be separated..."
"I don't know..." she said, holding her spear over Ja-Kal.
"Make a decision now!" said Scarab, pushing Rath aside. "They are in your way! They don't appreciate what you can truly become..."
"What I can truly become," she breathed, and glanced from Scarab to Trynia.
"That must be your decision," said Trynia. "And your decision alone. Time will tell..."
"But if he turned to Evil, I will too, for his blood is in my veins..." she said. "It is my destiny."
"No," said Trynia. "You must make your own destiny. Sure your Amazon code tells you to value family... But ask yourself. Where does your heart truly lie..."
"Don't listen to such drivel," said Scarab impatiently. "You have your chance against Ja-Kal. Destroy him..."
"I... I..."
"He shamed you," said Scarab. "You can make him pay..."
"But not this way," said she. "That is not the way of the Amazon. He is defenseless..."
"That's right," said Trynia. "So what if he isn't perfect. Neither are you... but you are your own person Damia..."
"I am," she gasped. "And I have decided..."
All eyes watched as she glanced at Trynia, and pulled away her spear. "Get up, and leave here," she said to Ja-Kal.
"What are you doing!" shouted Scarab. "Damia! You fool!"
"You are not the Father I remember..." said Damia softly as Scarab's eyes fell upon her. Slowly she turned to Trynia, who wearily nodded.
Armon collected her machine. Slowly she threw a lever forwards. Eternity froze for a second as she dragged her friends one by one out of harm's way. Kara and Arakh were powerless to stop her now...
* * *
Later they all rubbed their eyes as they found themselves in the Hot-Ra and upon their Nile-Ator Bikes. The gleaming contraption of quartz and gold sat in a back seat of the Hot-Ra, Trynia next to it.
"What in Ra's name?" gasped Rath as he found himself behind the controls of the Sky-Cophagus. Damia and Mennehotep sat one row up from Trynia. Presley and Armon both occupied the front seats. As for Nefer-Tina and Lyris, each sat upon Nile-Ator bikes. Ja-Kal stood outside, wings extended. All felt as groggy as if they were awakening from a wild dream. Quickly they all pulled away, towards the Sphinx.
* * *
Back at the Sphinx, the sun arose on a brand new day. Mennehotep sat upon a bench next to Ja-Kal, while Trynia attempted to explain the workings of the glorious conglomeration of circuitry. It sat prominently upon Rath's ornately painted table. Lyris and Presley glanced over it with some wonder. Rath peered at her finished contraption, with great intrigue. "Hmm," he murmured. "Quite unlike any machine I have seen in this or any time..." he remarked.
Trynia proudly adjusted several rods of quartz on her contraption, polishing them with a length of her bandages. "It's really simple..." she said to Rath, whose hand extended to the gleaming lattices near the machine's core. Firmly she grabbed his green gauntleted wrist as he stopped it inches from the sensitive device. "That's out of synch with our reality," she warned him.
"Er, quite," he coughed.
"So you say that you stopped time, and got each of us out of there?" said Mennehotep.
"No. I moved relative to you."
"Relative?" asked Ja-Kal, totally lost.
"Time... consists of a series of bits... like moments. For you time moved, but for me I was a nanosecond ahead..."
"You moved while we stood still..." said Presley.
"That's right," said Trynia, nodding with approval.
"But how?" asked Rath.
"I moved between the gaps in interstitial time..."
"You mean you were between the now and now?" asked Armon. Rath and Menne stared at him in wonder.
"That's it," said Trynia, to a chorus of blank faces. "Oh, forget it."
"At least it worked in our favor," said Ja-Kal.
Damia spoke softly to Nefer-Tina. The two women stood off to one side, and glanced at the others warily. Still the Amazon didn't want to look Ja-Kal in the face. Noting this, Trynia looked the leader straight in the face, saying, "Speaking of things in your favor..."
He glanced at Mennehotep, who pressed his hand firmly. Both Trynia and the Princess nodded towards the Amazon. Slowly Ja-Kal got off the bench. Drawing in his breath, he crossed over to Damia.
"Trynia wasn't the only hero today," he said softly.
"So?" asked Damia, nervous.
"The hyena was once seen to be a scavenger," Ja-Kal began. "But it is the mightiest and sturdiest of hunters..."
"What are you saying?" she asked.
"Er, sometimes... the hyena... is seen to be int eh company of vultures... but really... it is a noble creature. Spawned by ignorance... it is often misjudged..."
"How so?"
"What I mean to say is," said Ja-Kal, extending a hand to her. "A child cannot be expected to atone for the sins of his father.... or her father as the case may be..."
Damia's eyes brightened, as he continued, "And it is not her fault if she has hope in her heart that she can again hunt with the pack. Even if she must strike out on her own..."
"He's forgiving you, I think," said Armon, before Lyris nudged him to silence.
"I am... sorry I misjudged you so," said Ja-Kal, hand still extended to her. "Please... forgive me..."
"I don't know,' she breathed. "It will take time..."
"All things worth having do," said Trynia, crossing over to Damia and griping her hand tightly. "Take if from one who knows time..."
"Speaking of time..." said Presley. "Now that you fixed that machine... does it mean you'll be traveling again?"
"It's not perfected," said Trynia. "I was only able to move a few pitiful seconds into the future. It requires much more extensive testing..."
"So you'll be staying here..." said Rath. "I very much look forwards to assisting you in any way I can... provided you explain more completely.."
"Menne, I ask a favor," said Trynia.
"Anything," said Mennehotep, taking Trynia's hand.
"You've earned all our gratitude," said Ja-Kal, bowing his head to Trynia.
"I have a chance to study this century. I ask for your leave... to study the hominids in this time..."
"You can't leave," said Damia. "Not after you just came. And Scarab will be after you..."
"Please reconsider," said Mennehotep.
"I love having another artist around," said Lyris.
"That's just it. I am an anthropologist. It is my mission to observe whatever century I am in. Till I complete repairs, it must be my mission. Besides, Mennehotep has all of you to guard her..."
"But your duty..." said Ja-Kal.
"I did swear an oath to protect you, Mennehotep," said Trynia. "But this would be the best way. As long as I remain here, I threaten you, and it would be easier for me to blend into this time..."
"Let's face it," said Presley. "She's high tech. You guys aren't..."
"I'll have you know," said Rath, before Lyris poked him in the ribs to be silent.
"Very well," said Mennehotep. "You may go. But go with the blessing of Isis..."
"Ra be with you..." said Ja-Kal.
"Stop by and visit," said Armon. "Well all split a pizza with you..."
"I will be nearby," said Trynia, taking her machine in her arm. The sleek form fitting suit she now wore looked identical to that which she'd first come to Egypt in, Mennehotep noted. Strange how things had come full circle. To find Trynia only to say goodbye again. Oddly enough her garments looked quite passable in this new time.
"I'll probably be around the electronics stores..."
Damia stepped before her, as she shook the hands of Ja-Kal, Armon, and Rath. "Thank you... for everything..."
"Take care of Mennehotep," Trynia whispered to Damia. The two embraced. Lyris and Nefer-Tina also exchanged hugs with the anthropologist. Lyris handed her a small rolled canvas, and a series of brushes in a fine wooden box.
"Keep painting," said she. "Listen to that Muse inside..."
Mennehotep embraced her guardian. Trynia tried to slip the armlet on her left upper arm off, but Menne stopped her. "Keep it. Remember we are your friends. If you need us, remember we are spiritually connected."
Armon carried her sarcophagus over his shoulder. "Hey, don't forget this!"
"Yes, you must recharge once a day," said Rath. He helped her to put the machine and other paraphernalia into the sarcophagus. Carefully they wrapped it in a dropcloth. Trynia balanced it over her shoulder, rather awkwardly as she walked out of the main chamber.
"Ra be with you," said the others, as she left them behind. Out into the rising sun she walked, and stared up at a sherbert sky. The twin spans of the Golden Gate greeted her sight. The fresh air blew sweetly in her hair, and she could smell the carbon of smog within. Glancing back one last time she saw the figure of the Sphinx as it rose gracefully against the modern backdrop of San-Francisco.
"I will be back, from time to time," she said sadly as she walked away into the new time.
Fin.
