by Lana Axe
Traffic thickened as they neared the museum. A crowd of citizens was quickly forming at the entrance, many of them waving blue tickets in their hands. Florence retrieved hers from her purse and handed one to Lionel.
“We can walk from here,” Lionel told the driver. He handed the man another coin and tipped his hat. As he stepped down onto the sidewalk, Cali could no longer contain her enthusiasm. She leapt over his head and landed softly behind him, eager to get inside. Lionel grinned and helped his sister from the carriage. The trio ascended the steps to the museum entrance and fell into line with other early arrivals.
“Looks like we have a wait ahead of us,” Lionel said with a sigh.
Florence shrugged and maintained her happy demeanor. Cali wiggled her nose and smiled. Nothing could dampen this moment for her. Waiting a bit longer only augmented her excitement.
The unique feline kept the crowd entertained, leaping and prancing about. She was overjoyed to have all eyes on her once again, and she allowed herself to be petted and inspected by all. Lionel beamed with pride as he explained her implants again and again with each new arrival who approached to ask questions.
It was nearly half an hour before they reached the booth where a tired-looking man was taking tickets. Cali was first to see what her companions had missed. Her heart sank as she read the words displayed on a small plaque: ABSOLUTELY NO PETS ALLOWED.
“I am terribly sorry, sir, but the museum has a strict policy against live animals.” The ticket man looked distressed to have to disappoint his guest, but he could not authorize such a change to the museum’s rules. There were too many irreplaceable items that could be damaged with animals running loose. That couldn’t happen on his watch. He’d lose his job, not to mention the guilt he’d feel.
The crowd nearby voiced their disapproval, booing the young man in the booth. He glanced away, his face reddening.
“This is no ordinary cat,” Lionel argued.
“Yes, sir,” the man replied. “But no pets are allowed.”
“Pet?” Lionel shook his head. “This isn’t a pet. Have you ever seen any pet cat with enhancements like these?”
“Well, no,” the man admitted.
“This here is a work of art!” Lionel lifted Cali off her feet, eliciting applause from those nearby. “So you see, the museum’s policy doesn’t apply to her.”
Cali gave the man a slow blink and began to purr, hoping in earnest that he would change his mind and let her in. Lionel’s argument was, after all, quite valid. She was indeed a modern work of art, a feline like no other. She belonged in a museum.
Feeling the need to impress, Cali leapt skyward, twisting herself in midair. Landing gracefully on one paw, she proceeded to hold herself in a handstand, her mechanical claws digging into the concrete steps. The crowd was impressed, as was the ticket taker.
“Now that deserves a ticket!” Lionel shouted to the crowd.
The man in the booth looked defeated. He could see that Cali was indeed a special cat, but he still couldn’t break the museum’s rules. “I’m dreadfully sorry, sir,” he squeaked out.
“You mean you still aren’t letting her in?” Lionel scooped Cali from the ground and held her close to the booth, her soulful green eye pleading with the man behind the glass.
The ticket man swallowed hard and glanced side to side. Every person in the crowd stared back at him expectantly. “I’d love to play the hero, but I can’t,” he said. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
Once again the crowd erupted into boos. Finally, a robust man dressed in a white linen suit appeared at the museum’s glass doors. Wrinkling his brow, he exited and took a good look at the crowd. “Whatever could be the matter?” he asked. To the ticket taker, he said, “This crowd should be full of enthusiasm, not disappointment. Why are they booing?” This was, after all, his own exhibit, and he wouldn’t have it marred by any happenings outside.
“Well, Mr. Porchester, sir,” the ticket man began.
“Let me explain,” Lionel said, clutching Cali to his side. “This man is refusing to allow Calico Cogg inside the museum. He seems to think that since she’s a cat, she’ll muck up things. I’ll have you know, she’s the finest enhanced feline this side of the globe.”
Porchester looked Cali over with a discerning eye. “I’d say she’s the finest, and probably only, enhanced feline on both sides of the globe.”
Lionel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. A glance at Florence proved she was stunned as well by the man’s words. Her lips were pursed tight, her eyes wide.
“Carter Porchester, at your service, Ms. Cogg,” the man said, reaching out to shake Cali’s paw.
A polite feline, Cali reached her unenhanced paw toward the gentleman. She looked him over with a flash of her mechanical eye, making note of his waxed mustache, curled into perfect rings of dark hair on each side. Cali suspected it could support the weight of a gold coin on each side without taking any damage. There was a slight smell of aged paper to the man, and his hands were smooth and soft, as if they’d been sanded and polished.
“I’m not sure if you’re aware, but the ancient Egyptians worshipped felines,” Porchester said.
The assembled crowd listened with much interest.
Porchester flashed a smile, delighted to be the center of attention. “I say this feline can enter.”
A cheer rose from the crowd, along with applause and a few whistles. Cali shifted power to her hind quarters, activating her brass implants. Springing from Lionel’s arms, she somersaulted high in the air before landing on the tinker’s shoulder. Lifting herself on her back feet, she placed a paw at her midsection and bowed. The onlookers were doubly delighted, their cheers growing ever louder.
The ticket taker tried to shout over the noise. “Mr. Porchester, the museum rules say—”
“I’ll hear no more of it,” Porchester replied, holding up his hand. “This is my exhibit, and Calico Cogg is my special guest. She and her caretaker are most welcome inside.”
“There’s also my sister.” Lionel motioned for Florence to step forward. “I’m Lionel Cogg, and this is Florence.”
“Enchanté!” Porchester said, kissing the back of Florence’s hand.
Florence blushed and turned her head to the side. It wasn’t often that she received such attention. Porchester offered his arm, and she took it without hesitation.
“I’ll show the three of you the highlights of the exhibit,” he said.
“We’re honored,” Florence said. “To have the archaeologist give us a personal tour is…” She shook her head, clearly out of words.
“Egyptologist would be more accurate, my dear,” Porchester said.
Lionel bent down to place Cali on the floor as they entered the museum. He figured if she was an honored guest, she should be allowed to walk through the exhibit on her own four paws. Cali had no objection. She was eager to take in the sights and smells of the museum.
“This way,” Porchester said, leading them toward a pair of sand-colored columns.
“Porchester,” Lionel said, thinking out loud.
“Yes?” the man replied.
“I know I’ve heard that name somewhere,” the tinker commented.
“Information about the exhibit has been in all the papers,” Porchester replied with a grin. “I’ve been interviewed more times than I can count.”
“Yes, I’ve seen an announcement or two,” Lionel said. “But I was thinking there was someone else not too long ago.”
Porchester frowned. “My brother was elected judge a few months ago,” he said. “My family was overjoyed with his new status.” With a laugh, he added, “They thought I was insane to go all the way to Egypt to dig in the sand.” He led the trio between the columns and into an expansive gallery. “But after I brought home all of this,” he made a wide gesture with his hands, “they’ve learned who the brilliant one in the family truly is.” There was no lack of pride in his tone.
Cali looked out upon the
gallery filled with glass cases, shelves, and free-standing statues. There was more than her mechanical eye could take in at once. The exhibit stretched on for what seemed like a mile. It would take hours to visit every object on display. Refusing to be overwhelmed, she held her tail high and trotted along with her companions, prepared to listen closely to Porchester’s every word.
The Egyptologist led them first to a section of wall covered with rectangular stones of various sizes. All were carved, depicting scenes from the daily life of the ancients. Some were painted with bright colors, and others were so worn that it was difficult to tell what had once been chiseled into them.
“Direct your attention to these stelae.” Porchester released Florence’s arm and indicated the row of stone plaques.
The visitors pressed close to the nearest stela, all except Cali, who was too low to the ground. Instead, she zoomed in with her mechanical eye, giving herself a better view than any of the humans.
“These are carved in limestone,” Porchester explained. “This particular one is from the Middle Kingdom and is about four thousand years old.”
Florence gasped and pressed her hand to her heart. “I had no idea paint could last that long,” she said.
“The Egyptians were remarkable people, Ms. Cogg,” he replied. “They had all sorts of pigment, crafted from the variety of minerals available to them. Their own special mix of animal and plant matter, transformed into a glue, allowed these pigments to adhere, and they’ve lasted through the ages.”
“I didn’t expect so many colors,” Florence said.
“Oh, yes,” the Egyptologist went on. “Red and blue, green and gold, black and white. I’ve also seen some items painted pink.”
Cali scanned the stelae along the wall but didn’t find what she was searching for. Surely the Egyptians had been aware of calico. Her own pattern of black, white, and gold was definitely worth a painting or two. One that would last thousands of years would be most appropriate.
“Why didn’t they paint those lines of symbols?” Lionel asked. He pointed to the rows of small carvings present on the stela.
“Those are hieroglyphs, my good man,” Porchester said. “That is how the Egyptians wrote, not with letters as we know them.”
Lionel leaned in closer, his interest piqued. “What does it say?”
“This one tells the story of the great king who is depicted here.” He pointed to the male figure at the center of the stela. “King Wahankh Intef II reunified Lower Egypt.”
“Don’t you mean pharaoh?” Lionel asked.
“You’re a clever man, I can see,” Porchester said, grinning. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a tinker,” Lionel said proudly. “I fix things, and invent other things.”
“Ah,” Porchester replied.
“I designed and crafted all of Cali’s enhancements,” Lionel went on.
“Fascinating!” Porchester exclaimed. “I might have a job for a man of your talents.” He paused. “Yes, I’m sure of it. We can discuss that later. And yes, many kings of Egypt were referred to as pharaoh, but the term wasn’t used until around 1350 BCE. This stela is from around 2000 BCE.”
“So the rows of little pictures tell the story,” Lionel said.
“Correct.”
“What are all those little objects surrounding the king?” the tinker wondered. “Bigger words?”
Amused, Porchester allowed himself a polite laugh. “These are offerings being presented to the king. He will take them all with him into the afterlife.”
“It’s going to be crowded,” Lionel commented, squinting at the stela.
“It will indeed,” Porchester agreed. He clapped Lionel on the back in a friendly gesture. “But a king must have his many worldly goods if he’s to be comfortable.” Taking Florence’s arm once again, he said, “Let’s have a look over here.” He led them toward a row of busts near the far wall.
Cali hesitated a moment in following. The eye of the king stared back at her, outlined in striking black. She could feel his presence, his immortal eye staring straight through her. It gave her a chill, and her fur bristled involuntarily. Shaking her head, she pushed the uneasiness away. Being in the presence of ancients was a new experience, and it would take some getting used to. Trotting along, she made her way to her companions as they admired a stone bust.
Porchester went on explaining, but Cali wasn’t interested this time. Instead, she scanned the unique face of each head, making note of their differences. Various materials had been used in their construction, resulting in slightly different colors. She recognized limestone, granite, and quartzite with no problem. Some of them had rounder cheeks, some gaunt; some had wide eyes, some small. The only thing they seemed to have in common was that none of them had a nose intact.
As if he’d read her mind, Lionel asked, “Why don’t any of them have noses?”
Cali meowed her approval of the question.
“Well, some of them may have succumbed to erosion by wind and sand, but others were destroyed by vandals. There’s also a theory that by removing the nose, the soul—or ka, as the Egyptians called it—wouldn’t be able to move into its statue, thus dooming it to wander.”
Cali shuddered at the thought. Though she’d never encountered a restless spirit, and she wasn’t sure they even existed, the idea that someone could be that cruel was unnerving. If one truly believed the spirit needed a statue to go peacefully to the afterlife, then damaging that item intentionally would be worse than murder.
“I suppose we’re lucky they didn’t destroy them entirely,” Florence commented.
“Lucky indeed, Ms. Cogg,” Porchester said.
“If you ever want some mechanical noses,” Lionel said with a laugh, “I think I might be able to help.”
Porchester gave a good-natured laugh at the suggestion. “I think we’ll leave them as they are,” he replied. His eye fell on a shining blue-green object, and he couldn’t resist showing it to his guests. “Come and have a look here,” he said, skirting around the display of heads.
“It’s a hippo,” Florence said.
“It is,” Porchester replied. “They were quite common along the Nile in ancient times. The Egyptians feared them for their ferocious nature. You can see that this piece has three broken legs that have been repaired. That was done by the Egyptians themselves, to prevent the beast from harming anyone in the afterlife.”
“They thought it would come alive?” Florence asked.
“Oh, yes,” he replied. “Statues were representatives of the ka, and this hippo would be very real in the Egyptian afterlife.”
Cali studied the figure closely. It didn’t appear ferocious to her. With reeds carved into its sides, it appeared to be at home among the tall grasses of the ancient Nile. It looked content, almost as if it were smiling.
“Is it made of porcelain?” Florence asked.
“Similar,” Porchester replied. “It’s called faience, and that’s how it gets its glossy sheen and blue-green hue. The Egyptians took great pride in their art, even with these dangerous animals. It is meant to honor the creature. Though they feared it, they respected it as well.”
Taking Florence by the arm, the Egyptologist led his guests to a glass case filled with small trinkets. Tiny statues of Egyptian gods and goddesses, their animal heads glistening in the museum lights, stood all in a row.
“Jewelry,” Florence said, smiling.
“Indeed,” Porchester replied. “Faience was also used to make amulets to beautify the person.” He pointed to an elaborate necklace constructed of tiny blue-green beads.
“What’s that thing?” Lionel asked. He pointed to a small bulbous creature with pincers extended toward a sphere.
“A scarab,” Porchester replied. “Or dung beetle.”
“Why on earth would anyone want to wear a dung beetle?” Lionel wondered. “They roll balls of poop around all day long.”
Cali thought the beetle looked tasty. Many insects were juicy, th
ough some could be bitter. She’d never eaten one that was so brightly colored, though. She wondered what they might look like in real life.
“To the Egyptians, this little creature represented the cycle of rebirth,” Porchester explained. “The sun god Ra moved the sun across the sky, whisking it away to the other world every night and returning it to the living world every morning. That cycle of regeneration was very important to these ancient people.”
Now Cali saw the beauty in it. It represented rebirth, just as she felt reborn by the implants Lionel had gifted her. She had ceased to exist as an ordinary feline and had become the great Calico Cogg. Thinking about it made her purr with delight.
“You like it, Ms. Cali?” Porchester asked, scratching her behind the ear.
She nuzzled her face into his hand and stepped forward, arching her back high and brushing her side against his legs.
“I have something that will delight you even more,” Porchester told her.
Lifting her over a glass case, he allowed her to see the small black-and-gold object inside. Her eyes grew wide with fascination as she looked it over. Crafted of bronze and adorned with a golden necklace and earrings was a cat!
“This is the goddess Bast, or Bastet, as she’s sometimes called,” Porchester said. “As I mentioned earlier, cats were sacred to the ancient Egyptians. They admired their feline poise and prowess, not to mention their beauty.” He stroked the fur on Cali’s back. “They would have greatly admired you, Cali.”
Cali beamed with pride, her green eye gleaming, her mechanical eye focused on the feline goddess. If they revered an average cat, what would the Egyptians have thought of an enhanced cat? She might have become ruler of all.
“Many cats were honored with mummification, preserving them for their journey to the afterlife.”
“Mummies,” Lionel said. “Let’s see one of those.”
Giving Cali one more pat on the head, Porchester placed her back on her feet. “Right this way,” he said.
The group passed numerous small statues, cases filled with jewelry, and pottery of every size and style. The mummies were displayed near the back of the exhibit, encouraging visitors to peruse the entire collection rather than rush toward the main event.
