by Lana Axe
Cali laughed. “Well, it’s all in place and waiting for you.”
Squeaking with delight, Emmit said, “I’ll have to sneak in there tonight. I can’t bear waiting any longer.” He trembled slightly, anxious to get running to the museum. There had to be a mouse in that collection somewhere, even if it wasn’t a mummy. A painting or statue would do.
“I’d recommend at least waiting until they close and all the people have gone,” Cali cautioned. Humans weren’t fond of mice in any setting. Every time Emmit paused to take a closer look at something, he’d be putting himself in grave danger.
“Wait,” Emmit said, scratching his head. “You said Porchester gave you a tour?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Porchester, the guy who brought all that stuff from Egypt?”
Cali nodded, wondering where this was going.
“You didn’t sneak inside with Lionel and Florence? The Egyptologist himself let you in?” It was almost too much to comprehend. Emmit visited the area of the museum at least once a week and was familiar with their “no animals” policy. He’d seen a lady walk her dog too close once, and she was scolded as if she’d tried to set the place on fire.
After casually licking at her paw, Cali said, “Given the admiration the Egyptians had for cats, and the fact that I’m an extraordinary specimen, Porchester decided to bend those rules.”
Emmit shook his head in disbelief. “You’re one lucky cat, Cali.” He was only slightly jealous. After all, he wasn’t an enhanced mouse, and few people held high opinions of his species. Sneaking in was his only hope of seeing the exhibit. No one would hold the door open for a mouse.
“I am lucky,” Cali agreed. From a street kitten to a warm home, she had hit the jackpot when Lionel took her in. Not to mention a full belly and scritchins whenever she liked. The mechanical enhancements only added to her good fortune. She considered herself the luckiest cat in the world.
Emmit turned his attention to his cheese and nibbled as he daydreamed about the exhibit. Cali settled in on her perch and looked out the window, her head growing heavier with each passing minute. She allowed her eyes to close for only a moment, and when she opened them again, the sun had set and Emmit was curled up next to her, nestled in her fur. Apparently she had drifted off despite her efforts to stay awake.
Judging by the colorful sunset, she knew it was time for her dinner. Taking extra care with her movements, she slid gracefully away from the blue-gray mouse, who showed no signs of stirring. Hopping down from the window, she padded toward the workshop to fetch Lionel. If only he would leave the tins outside the cupboard, she could open them herself with her mechanical claws. Alas, he insisted on monitoring her diet.
Taking in a deep breath, Cali sounded a desperate wail. Lionel looked up immediately, his eye enlarged through the magnifying lens clipped to his glasses.
“Dinnertime, eh?” he asked, laughing. “All right.” Long hours slumped over his work caught up to him when he tried to stand. “Oof,” he said, stretching and rubbing his lower back. “I’m tied in knots.”
Cali gave a sympathetic meow and followed him toward the kitchen. Lionel moved a little slowly retrieving her food, so she stretched herself tall to pat his leg with her paw.
“Here you go,” he said, setting the dish on the floor.
She didn’t waste a second diving into her meal. Halfway through, an irritating bell interrupted her feast. Someone was at the door.
“Who in the world?” Lionel wondered. “Oh, it must be Porchester.”
Emmit seemed to appear out of nowhere, his eyes gleaming. Cali laughed through a mouthful of shredded meat.
“The Egyptologist is here?” he squeaked.
Swallowing, she replied, “Yes, he has work for Lionel.” She licked her bowl clean before trotting into the parlor with Emmit hot on her heels.
“Come in, Mr. Porchester,” Lionel said.
The Egyptologist stepped inside, a rectangular black coffer tucked under his arm. “Greetings, Mr. Cogg,” he said. Sucking in a breath at Cali’s sudden appearance, he added, “And you as well, Ms. Cali.”
The tricolored feline approached Porchester with familiarity. He reached down and gave her fur a few strokes before turning his attention back to Lionel.
“I appreciate your taking a look at this,” he said. “I’m happy to pay your normal fee, plus a bonus for seeing me on such short notice, of course.” He held out the box for Lionel to take.
Squinting at the outer casing, Lionel adjusted his glasses before laying hands on the coffer. It was heavier than he expected, as well as being smooth and cold. “What sort of stone is this?” he asked.
“Glazed steatite,” Porchester replied.
“Soapstone,” Lionel said, nodding.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, admiring the coffer. “It’s one of the best preserved specimens in my exhibit.” He cleared his throat before correcting himself. “Well, soon to be in my exhibit. Do you think you can open it?”
“Let me have a look here,” Lionel said. He turned the box around to examine the seam between the lid and the base. There was no visible lock. Instead, an ornate plate of gold sat atop the box, a single hole at its center. Bringing the golden keyhole close to his eye, he squinted inside. Nothing.
Cali could tell by his expression that this wouldn’t be simple. She settled in, expecting a long wait while Lionel fiddled with the coffer.
“I hired a few locksmiths before you,” Porchester admitted. “None of them could pick the lock, and I refuse to allow anyone to attempt forcing it open at the seams. You must take great care to protect both the coffer and whatever is locked inside it.”
“No need to worry, Mr. Porchester,” Lionel said. “I’m not your average locksmith. I’m a tinker. I’ve had plenty of experience with delicate work.” He glanced over at Cali and gave a sideways grin.
“Indeed you have!” Porchester agreed.
“This might take some time,” Lionel said. “You don’t have to wait around if you have other business to tend to.”
“Nothing could be higher on my list of priorities,” the Egyptologist replied. “I trust you entirely, but I mustn’t allow the coffer to leave my sight. It’s far too valuable to the museum. You understand, of course.”
The tinker nodded. “Come on inside the workshop, then,” he said, motioning for the man to follow. If Porchester wanted to watch him work, then that was his right. Unfortunately, it was unlikely to provide much amusement. To the casual observer, most of what Lionel did would be considered boring. But to Lionel, opening a tricky lock was no different from solving a great mystery. The more challenging the process, the more he enjoyed it.
Porchester followed, and Cali tagged along. Movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she glanced to her right to see Emmit skirting along the edge of the room. He always preferred to stay out of sight since neither he nor Cali had any idea how Lionel would react to a mouse in the apartment. But Cali knew Emmit was anxious to see the box opened and hear whatever Porchester had to say about it. The little mouse would be thrilled to be among the first to see whatever amazing object lay within the long-unopened coffer. Besides, it would pass the time remaining until he could sneak inside the museum unnoticed. Cali looked away, trying not draw any human attention to the mouse.
Inside the workshop was an even bigger mess than Cali remembered. Emmit found the clutter useful in keeping himself out of view. Though nothing escaped Cali’s keen eyes. She was well aware of her friend’s location, and plopped herself between him and the humans to further shield him from their sight. This allowed him to prop himself up and view the scene before him without worrying about being caught.
Lionel shoved his work aside and sat the coffer on his desk. “Have a seat,” he told Porchester.
The Egyptologist took a seat next to the desk and watched Lionel’s actions with interest. Before arriving, he had inquired as to Mr. Cogg’s qualifications, and had been reassured that,
among the tinker’s many talents, he was the best locksmith in Ticswyk. Not only that, he was responsible for a portion of the security systems in place at the museum, as well as the locks on most of the display cases. With such high recommendations, Porchester had every hope that Lionel would solve the mystery of this ancient lock.
Reaching for a mounted magnifying glass, Lionel positioned it over the golden plate. From the top drawer, he retrieved two polished lenses and angled them toward the flickering light of a candle. A beam of light shone inside the locking mechanism, its inner workings made visible and magnified. He could barely make it out. Frowning, he set the lenses aside and pressed his ear against the lid. Tapping his finger lightly on the outside, he listened for any vibrations.
Pressing his steepled hands together, Porchester seemed skeptical. Cali suspected he’d never seen a lock opened by sound, but the man kept his thoughts to himself. If Cali could talk, she would urge the Egyptologist to have patience. The tinker in front of him was a genius when it came to locks, so his methods were bound to be peculiar to the untrained eye.
Lionel bounced around the room, retrieving various tools he planned to use on the strange lock. It was complicated, but he was determined to open it. Where others had failed, Lionel would succeed, or drive himself crazy in the attempt. He had never given up on a project, merely filed away the most challenging for a later date. Sometimes he had to wait for technology to catch up to the workings of his own mind.
Returning to his desk, he bent low over his work. All was quiet, save for the ticking of a clock and the occasional clearing of the Egyptologist’s throat. Lionel always preferred to work in silence. Conversation was a distraction when one had work to do. He’d always said, “Mechanics and chitchat don’t go together.” The only exception he made was for his sister, who was rarely able to refrain from speaking for more than twenty minutes. She always had an interesting story to tell, and Lionel obliged her, pausing his work to listen.
Fortunately, the Egyptologist didn’t have difficulties remaining silent. Porchester kept a keen watch over the coffer, not a word escaping his lips.
Cali studied his changing expressions as he observed Lionel’s work. He narrowed his eyes, skeptical, then raised his eyebrows and frowned. Finally, he nodded, approving of the great care the tinker was giving his work. Lionel’s fingers moved delicately, all his focus directed on the lock. Cali purred softly as she watched Porchester relax in his seat. The coffer couldn’t be in safer hands. No harm could possibly come to it under Lionel’s delicate touch.
“Uh-huh,” Lionel said, followed by a murmured, “thought so.”
“Have you done it?” Porchester asked anxiously.
“Not at all,” Lionel said, setting down his tools. He wiped his hands on his pant legs before cracking his knuckles. “No, I can’t do it with these, but I’ve got a better idea.”
Porchester’s shoulders sank as Lionel once again hopped up from his chair and began digging through a pile of clutter.
“Let’s give this a try,” Lionel said as he took his seat. Silence returned, settling over the room like a thick fog.
With a sigh, Porchester leaned back and continued his vigil over the coffer. He had no idea what exactly the tinker was doing, and he twiddled his thumbs to pass the time.
Cali was accustomed to Lionel’s ways. Whenever he was hard at work, he’d have breakthroughs and moments of genius followed by lulls and frustration. Tonight’s scenario wasn’t much different. Trial and error was the best method of decoding a lock. What did surprise her was that the ancient lock was holding as tight as ever. She would have expected it to give with ease, or break despite Lionel’s careful movements. It was, after all, thousands of years old.
Drawing her paws beneath her, Cali settled in for a long night. She wanted to curl up in his lap, but she couldn’t interrupt the tinker yet. With a customer waiting, their needs had to come before her own. He was paying the bill that would pay for Cali’s supper. She knew little of economics, but where her own meals were concerned, she paid attention and understood.
On silent paws, Emmit crept toward Cali. Neither Lionel nor Porchester gave any indication they had detected the mouse’s movements. The tinker was far too engrossed in his work, and the Egyptologist was too bored to care. Emmit felt perfectly safe approaching his feline friend. Her whiskers twitched slightly at his approach, but she made no movements nor sound. She was well aware of his presence.
“What do you think is hiding in there?” he asked, whispering.
She shook her head. “No idea.”
“I wish he’d let me have a go at it,” Emmit said. He was a skilled picklock in his own rights, and he would be delighted to get his paws on something Egyptian.
Though she didn’t say it, Cali doubted Porchester would allow a mouse anywhere near one of his artifacts.
“Can you see if there’s any writing on the coffer?” the mouse wondered.
Cali hadn’t thought to look, but did so now. Focusing with her enhanced eye, she scanned the black stone surface. Other than the pattern of pits in the stone, she saw nothing. When she focused on the gold plate covering the lock, she did see something. A row of hieroglyphs appeared, running vertically the length of the lock. But there was also something else. “I don’t believe it,” she whispered, awestruck. She stifled a gasp for fear of alerting the humans.
“What?” Emmit pleaded. His eyes were nowhere near as sharp as Cali’s normal one, let alone her mechanically augmented one. Whatever she’d spotted had thrown her for a loop, and he was dying to know what it was.
“It’s a cat,” she said, barely able to maintain the whispering. “With wild markings,” she added. “A spotted pattern.” Her mouth went dry. “And there’s a metal plate on its chest.”
Emmit sucked in a breath of air. “You mean it was enhanced?” He shook his head in disbelief. “They predicted your invention, Cali!”
The calico narrowed her eyes at the mouse.
“I mean your enhancements,” he corrected. “Not that you were invented.” He twirled his tail with his finger and looked at the ground.
“I’m not sure,” Cali said. The metal plate could simply be an adornment, not a mechanical implant. Emmit was probably letting his imagination run wild. Still, the feline couldn’t help but wonder if the Egyptians might have tried to enhance their cats as a sign of their love and devotion. Cali found the drawing quite beautiful. Someone had taken great care in etching it into the gold.
“Why is there a cat on it?” the mouse wondered.
Cali didn’t know. “Maybe the coffer belonged to the cat?”
“Or there’s a cat mummy in there.” Emmit swallowed hard, not sure if he was ready to see that. It might be unnerving in real life rather than in pictures printed on newspaper.
Studying the etching closer, Cali noticed the feline’s claws were clearly visible extending from its paws. Could that be the answer? “I have an idea,” she said. With a soft mew, she stretched her body and padded over to Lionel. Tapping his leg with her left paw, she extended her normal claws just enough to make them visible. She hoped the tinker got the message.
He didn’t. His magnified eye stared at her through the round lens. “I’ll get you a snack in a little while,” he said.
Cali tried again, this time patting his arm.
Setting aside his tools, Lionel stretched his back and leaned down to give Cali’s head a few strokes. When she patted his hand with her paw, he glanced at her slender claws. Their shape matched the small opening in the golden plate. “Clever girl!” he exclaimed, jumping from his chair.
“What is it?” Porchester asked, jumping to his feet. “Has the cat found something?”
“Probably not,” Lionel said. “She wants something to eat.” He dug furiously through a haphazard pile of tools before finding what he was after. It was a leather bag filled with slender metal instruments. “I had an idea when I saw her claws,” he said, returning to his work desk.
Porch
ester stared over the tinker’s shoulder, his interest renewed. For several minutes he watched as Lionel tried inserting the instruments at various angles. The occasional clicking of aged metal suggested that whatever the tinker was doing, it was working.
“Ha-ha!” Lionel shouted, startling everyone in the room. “I’ve done it!” Taking great care, he lifted the lid from the coffer, revealing the small treasure inside. He frowned as he laid eyes upon it. “A poop bug,” he said. “Of course.”
Porchester was far more enthusiastic. “A scarab amulet!” he exclaimed, reaching for the tiny piece of jewelry. Glazed in deep blue, it sparkled under the light of Lionel’s work lamp. The intricate colors of its unfurled wings seemed untouched by time. It was a pristine specimen, among the finest of any artifact he’d uncovered.
Cali herself couldn’t help but admire it. The slowed breathing of the mouse next to her suggested that Emmit was intrigued as well. All along the scarab’s wings were tiny colored stones, all cut to the same rectangular shape. Shades of blue and green intertwined with gold, brown, and orange on the edges. In the beetle’s outstretched arms was the sun, vivid orange and ringed in gold. The insect seemed proud of his prize as he held it aloft, poised eternally to lift the sun into the sky. Cali saw great nobility in such a career. Now she understood why Porchester was so taken with the scarab.
The Egyptologist turned the scarab toward the light, examining it with a smile glued onto his face. “You no doubt had a good look at the feline etched into the golden plate,” he said.
Lionel nodded. Through his magnifying lenses, he had seen the feline clearly, as well as the hieroglyphs etched beside it. “What does the writing say?” he asked.
“Roughly translated, it says, ‘Honored feline, light of the Pharaoh’s eye’.” Winking at Cali, he added, “This likely belonged to the pharaoh’s cat, worn upon her golden collar.”
“Well, mystery solved,” Lionel said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “The Egyptians loved their cats, so they gave them fancy jewelry and locked it up tight so no one could steal it.” He didn’t see what Porchester found so fascinating. The coffer only furthered the idea that the ancient Egyptians were rather ordinary. Anyone with common sense would protect a valuable item. Reaching for his glasses, he started to remove the magnifying lens but hesitated when he noticed something on the bottom of the amulet. “Could I have another look at that?”
