by Lana Axe
Bounding through the streets, she found them strangely silent. Perhaps people were avoiding travel in the fog. She shook her head, knowing better. If the streets were bare, she suspected she knew where everyone was. Grumbling to herself, she changed direction and headed toward the museum.
As she suspected, the museum courtyard was filled with visitors, all eyes fixated on the obelisk. Rather than be hindered by the fog, the lights had been enhanced. Their ethereal glow gave off a multitude of hues. Cali thought it made the hieroglyphs harder to recognize, but none of the gawkers appeared to share her opinion.
“The breath of the ancient gods,” one woman gasped. The people gathered near her chimed in their agreement. Sniffing at the air, Cali understood what they meant. The smelly-egg odor of the gas was more potent, noticeable from a distance. That hadn’t been the case the night before. Whoever was in charge of it must have turned up the flow to cut through the fog. Too bad she hadn’t been there to see who it was. But maybe the culprit was hanging around admiring his or her own handy work. She scanned the crowd for any guilty faces but came up empty. Everyone seemed to be in a state of awe, without knowing smiles or sinister grins.
Cali’s eyes landed on Porchester, once again seated on the museum steps. His head was in his hands, his shoulders slumped. Poor thing, she thought. They’ve turned his exhibit into a sideshow. So much for the respect the Egyptologist had craved.
The clacking of carriage wheels drew the feline’s attention, and she returned to the sidewalk to have a better look at the horses. Three carriages came and went, but none of them were pulled by the black-and-white mare. Finally, six carriages later, Nellie’s familiar pattern appeared in the fog.
“Hello, Nellie!” Cali shouted.
“Morning, Cali,” Nellie said as she halted the carriage. She gave a polite neigh to her passengers as they climbed out of the seat. Setting the break, the driver climbed down and removed his hat. Eager for a look at the obelisk, he left the carriage unattended.
“I need to ask another favor of you, Nellie,” Cali said. The horse had been invaluable in her investigation of the clockwork spiders, and Cali knew she’d come through this time as well.
“What do you need?” Nellie asked.
“I want you to keep an eye around town for anything strange,” the cat said.
“Stranger than that?” Nellie nodded toward the obelisk.
“Yes,” Cali replied. “There are rumors around, and I’m trying to sort out what’s real and what isn’t. Also, if you know of anyone buying large quantities of fuel or chemicals, or anything generally out of the ordinary.” To be honest, Cali wasn’t exactly sure what she was looking for, so she couldn’t describe it to the horse.
“I can do that,” Nellie said. “And there’s lots of talk too,” she went on. “My passengers have been saying a mummy escaped the museum.”
“I’ve already heard that one,” Cali replied.
“Did you hear about last night?” The mare’s eyes widened.
“No, what?”
“Two different passengers mentioned seeing the mummy in an alleyway,” the horse said.
“Did they?” Cali asked. That made three possible witnesses, including the one Florence had overheard. The calico shook her head. It couldn’t be true. Could it? “What else did you hear about it?”
“Only that it was stumbling around in the dark,” she replied. “No one approached it. They were all too scared.” She laughed softly. “I don’t suppose I’d want to go near it either.”
Cali tapped a claw against her chin. “Well, keep an eye out for mummies, then,” she said. “And make note of its location if you do see it. Otherwise, I’d appreciate it if you could listen closely to your passengers for any more information.”
“You got it, Cali,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll be finding me here a lot. Everyone wants to go back and forth to the obelisk. I might forget my way around the rest of the city.”
Cali glanced back at the driver who was paying no attention to his carriage or horse. His eyes were glued to the obelisk. “I see what you mean,” Cali said. “Thanks for your help.”
Nellie nodded as Cali bounded away, disappearing into the fog. Returning to her apartment, she darted through the rear cat flap and headed onto the factory floor. Emmit’s house was not far, a small, asymmetrical hole chewed into the wall behind Florence’s desk. Luckily, the door to her office was open, and she was not inside. Cali didn’t want to draw the woman’s attention to the mouse. She probably wouldn’t like it if she was aware of her tiny neighbor.
“Emmit?” Cali called, pressing her face close to the hole.
Yawning and stretching, Emmit appeared at the entrance. “Good morning, Cali.”
“You’re just now getting out of bed?” she asked. Usually the blue-gray mouse was up at dawn.
“I felt like sleeping in,” he said. Last night had given him a lot to think about. He’d enjoyed vivid dreams of adventuring through Egypt. “Bring any cheese?”
Cali shook her head. “I’m sure there’s some at the apartment if you want to stop by.”
Nodding, Emmit replied, “I think I will later.”
“Will you be going out foraging today?” she asked.
“Of course,” he answered. “It’s Tuesday.”
“What happens on Tuesday?” she asked.
Emmit stared at her in disbelief. “Fish market,” he replied. “I’d have thought every cat within a hundred miles would know that.”
Cali shrugged. Since her rescue from the streets as a kitten, she hadn’t bothered to search the city for bits to eat. When she was hungry, all she had to do was rub against Lionel’s legs. If that didn’t work, she would yowl, head-butt him, or if worse came to worst, chomp him on his fingers.
“You want me to bring you something?” he asked.
“No,” she replied. “But if you hear or see anything strange, let me know. Especially if it has to do with the mummy.”
“Has there been a sighting?” he asked, his eyes growing wide. Though he hadn’t seen the mummy exit its sarcophagus, he wasn’t entirely convinced that it hadn’t.
“There are rumors,” she replied. She didn’t want to elaborate since she knew so little about the situation.
“I’ll swing by the museum again after the fish market,” he promised. “Maybe it’s hanging around there.”
“Don’t go inside,” she cautioned. “The courtyard was packed this morning, so there will probably be tons of visitors inside.” She didn’t want him spotted and trapped, or worse.
“I’ll be careful,” he said, smiling.
“Cali?” Florence said as she entered the office. The feline’s tail protruded from beneath the desk.
Emmit disappeared inside his house at the sound of Florence’s voice. Cali wiggled herself from under the desk and mewed. With a loud purr in her throat, she pressed her head against the woman’s ankle.
Florence bent down to stroke Cali’s fur. “You’re looking for some affection, aren’t you?” she said softly. “Lionel’s too busy with his secret invention.” She lifted the cat and placed her on her lap as she took her seat. “Well, you can stay here as long as you want.”
Cali cozied up to the woman and allowed herself to be petted for several minutes. Then Florence tried to pet her belly, but after only two strokes, Cali became annoyed and jumped from her lap. There was more work to be done.
Plodding through the factory, Cali made her way to a group of ladies sipping tea at a small, round table. Perfect, she thought. It was time to catch up on her gossip.
“Hiya, kitty,” one woman said, offering Cali a bit of biscuit. Cali accepted the treat and munched slowly as she listened to the chatter.
“Florence and Lisen were out again last night,” one said.
“He’s a dreamy one,” another woman commented, sipping her tea.
“I wonder if they’ll get married,” a third said.
“He’s wealthy too,” a fourth pointed out.
> The fifth woman kept silent, but her eyes shifted from one speaker to the next.
“He took her to a fancy dinner,” the first woman said.
“Oh, how lovely,” the second said.
“They’ll be wed for sure,” the third said.
Cali wished she could turn off her hearing rather than listen to this back and forth. Weren’t there more interesting things to talk about? Suddenly feeling sick, the feline began to cough. Great, she thought. Hairball.
The women ceased their conversation, two of them bending down to try to assist the feline. The fifth woman, who hadn’t spoken yet, proved the smartest among them. “Leave her alone. She’ll cough it up on her own.”
And then she did. Beaming with pride, she dropped her prize beneath the table. Flicking her tail, she turned and left the chattering women to clean up the mess.
Days passed with few new developments. Cali and Emmit visited the obelisk daily, each at different times of the day. The crowds gathered in droves at first, but they began to grow thin as the light of the full moon drowned out the lights on the obelisk. There had been no sign of anyone tending to the gas pipes nor applying substances to the stone. Cali had come to the conclusion that the pipes led to a location, possibly far away, where the culprit could refill them as needed. It was also possible that the chemical on the monument needed no reapplication.
One day Cali observed Porchester as he studied the obelisk closely. She was sure that he was close enough to notice the odor of the gas, but he never acknowledged it. Perhaps he thought that was how Ticswyk normally smelled. After all, he’d spent far more time digging in the desert than anywhere else. Without a magnifying glass, she doubted he would notice the sparkling substance coating the hieroglyphs. Disappointed, Cali returned home. Her belief that she would be able to solve the mystery was waning. She needed more clues.
Fortunately, there were new developments when she returned home. Lionel was sipping tea and reading his newspaper, a rare midday break from his tinkering. He scratched at Cali’s ear and said, “Now these fools are talking about a mummy’s curse.”
Cali’s ears perked up, eager to hear more. She mewed questioningly, hoping he would elaborate. As luck would have it, Lionel was in a talkative mood.
“Cali, I think these reporters are dumber than sewer rats,” he said. After a pause, he changed his mind. “I guess they’re pretty smart. They do know how to sell papers. Listen to this: ‘Is the mummy’s curse real? Carter Porchester, Ticswyk’s leading Egyptologist had this to say. Though there are rumors that one Egyptologist died of a mysterious disease shortly after entering an ancient tomb, there is no evidence that his death was caused by supernatural forces. The tombs are filled with warnings of curses to those who disturb the dead, but no one believes they are real.’” He stopped reading to sip his tea. “You see what he’s doing there? He’s egging them on.” He shook his head and set his cup down with a heavy plunk. “He says here that Egyptian magical curses work against only those who believe in them. Malarkey. Then he says all the mummies are wrapped up tight under the watchful eyes of the museum’s security system. At least he doesn’t mention the one he thinks escaped.” He sighed and pushed the paper away. Reaching for a cookie, he shoved it in his mouth. After he swallowed, he said, “That man is as gullible as all the rest who believe this drivel. Now I know how someone convinced him to buy that phony amulet.”
At the mention of the amulet, Cali began to wonder what had become of it. If she were Porchester, where would she have put it? Locked up tight in his office at the museum was her best guess. He wouldn’t want it where anyone would find it. Though, getting into the museum to check meant facing down that security system again. Unless, of course, a certain blue-gray mouse with dexterous paws was willing to help her disable it.
* * * * *
“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Emmit asked as the pair paused outside the museum.
“Absolutely,” Cali answered. Luckily he hadn’t asked if it was safe to be doing this. With her mechanical eye, she scanned the perimeter in search of any outdoor cameras. She saw only one, the same one mounted upon the balcony as before. “We need to dodge only that one,” she said.
“Outside,” Emmit pointed out. “Inside is another matter.”
“One step at a time,” she said. Leading the way, she tiptoed near the obelisk. Its odor seemed stronger than before, but there were no colors to be seen on the monument. The light of the full moon was too much competition.
“Yuck,” Emmit said, pinching his nose. “How can it be worse with the gas off?” He peered down one of the small tubes.
A light went off in Cali’s head. “That’s it,” she whispered. “It’s unpurified coal gas.”
“Come again?” Emmit asked.
“Coal gas,” she repeated. “It’s what powers the gas lamps all over the streets. Lionel built a purification system to keep the city from smelling awful. It’s more sophisticated than what most people use in their homes. It can purify huge quantities of gas at once.”
“And this is relevant because?” Emmit asked.
“Because once the moon begins to wane, our mysterious light bringer is going to turn the gas back on full. He or she is going to need a steady supply.”
“Still not following,” Emmit said. They had no idea where this person was getting his fuel.
“The lamp factory has a gasworks right behind it,” she said. “It’s the largest in all Ticswyk.” She was a little surprised Emmit wasn’t aware of it, given his travels about town. But since there was no food available, he probably never had cause to visit its location.
“Oh, that big, noisy contraption,” he said. “You think this person might try to steal from it?”
“I do,” she replied. “But the security is tight, thanks to Lionel. Whoever it is would have to come into the factory to disable it or risk having themselves zapped by static electricity until they’re as limp as a rag.” A few men had volunteered to test the system, and while it wasn’t lethal, it was painful and had a profound effect on the human nervous system. Luckily it didn’t produce enough heat to blow up the entire apparatus.
“Then we’ll have to be ready for anything,” the mouse said. He shuddered at the thought of criminal activity so close to his little home.
Cali nodded in agreement. “First let’s get inside the museum to see what’s become of that amulet.”
“Right,” the mouse said. Keeping a watch on the camera, the two of them moved with precision to avoid it.
“Now we climb,” Cali said. “Hop on.”
Emmit grabbed hold of her spinal enhancement and held his breath. Cali leapt for a gutter and dug in her mechanical claws. Sending power to her haunches, she launched herself skyward, reaching the roof in only three hops.
“Now what?” Emmit asked.
“Down the chimney,” she replied. It was summer, and there was no chance a fire would be lit. Fortunately, that also meant the chimney sweeps would have given the flue a thorough cleaning in the springtime. It should be a pleasant ride down.
Emmit groaned but didn’t put up a fuss. Clutching at his companion, he squeezed his eyes shut as she made her descent. She found the sensation of free-fall exhilarating, but Emmit did not. He suppressed a cry from his throat, instead swallowing hard and holding on tight. As they neared the end, Cali unsheathed her metal claws and dug into the bricks. The sound was almost unbearable, and the two of them gritted their teeth until they hit the bottom.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Cali said with a shrug. Shaking her body, she removed any trace of dust from her pelt. After giving her paws a few licks, she was all set to continue.
Emmit, on the other hand, was dizzy, and his ears were still ringing from the noise. Shifting his weight side to side, he tried to find his balance. He shook his head and blinked several times to bring himself back to his senses. After a few deep breaths, he felt almost as good as new.
“Do you know where the control room is?” he aske
d.
“Yes,” she said with confidence. At least, she thought she knew where it was. She could vaguely remember some schematics she had curled up on while Lionel was trying to read them. She was pretty sure the control room was on the third floor. Unfortunately, the chimney she’d chosen had taken them to ground level. “We have to go upstairs,” she said. “Follow me.”
She turned in the direction of the stairwell, and Emmit followed along. Zigging and zagging this way and that, he was out of breath before they reached it. “Is it going to be this difficult all the way up?”
“Probably,” she said. “At least until you disarm the system.” She waited a few minutes for the mouse to catch his breath before cautiously stepping onto the first stair. “Rats,” she said. “There are motion sensors here.” Not cameras or dangerous contraptions, but still enough to set off alarm bells. “We have to move very slowly or they’ll spot us.”
Emmit let his head loll backward for a moment. This was going to take forever. “Forget that,” he said. Taking a gamble that it wouldn’t respond to his tiny body, he made a mad dash up the railing.
Cali held her breath. Her mouth stuck open, but no sound emerged. Crossing her paws, she hoped that the mouse’s bet paid off.
It did. He reached the top of the stairs and climbed up next to the motion detector. Piece of cake, he thought as he flipped the switch to the OFF position. “Come on up,” he called to his companion.
Cali didn’t waste any time bounding up the stairs. Looking down the corridors, she wondered which one she needed to take to reach the control room. Luckily, Emmit was on top of it. He’d studied the museum directory plastered on the wall at the top of the stairs.
