The Egyptian Cat Mystery

by John Blaine

  As Hassan drove off, at the usual high velocity, Rick asked, “Do you know Fuad Moustafa?”

  “Hear name,” Hassan said. “But not know. What number street he live?”

  Rick took the letter from his pocket, switched on the dome light, and scanned it. There was no address given in English. He started to hand the letter to Hassan,then remembered the dragoman could not read. He puzzled over the Arabic in the letterhead, realizing the address must be given there. If he could identify the numbers . . . there, he recognized one. Both boys had spent some time studying the telephone dial at the project, on which the numbers were in Arabic. It was easy to identify them, and Rick had spotted the five, a figure like a tiny heart, upside down.

  “I think I have it,” he said. “Let’s see. Arabic reads from right to left, instead of the way we write. That makes this number . . .hmmmm ... a heart, a dot, and two sevens backward with one squiggle in the upper line. The heart is a five, the dot a zero, and backward sevens with one squiggle are twos. So the number is 5022.Right?”

  “That’s the way I remember it,” Scotty said. “So that’s the number. EnshaUah.”

  Hassan started laughing in the front seat. “Now you speak Arabic? You must

  say a’eraf shwayet ‘ arabi .”

  “What does that mean?” Scotty demanded.

  “Itmean ‘I know some Arabic.’”

  The boys laughed with him. In a few moments Hassan swung the little car to the curb and pointed to the nearest building. “There 5022.”

  Rick started to get out,then he asked curiously, “How do you know, Hassan? I thought you couldn’t read.”

  “No can read words. Read numbers plenty good.

  Could not take people to places if could not read numbers.”

  That made sense, Rick thought.

  Scotty let out a sudden exclamation. “Hey, this is a barbershop, and it’s closed for the night.”

  Rick looked,then switched on the dome light. He compared the letterhead number and the number on the door. Clearly, it was 5022, unless they had mistaken threes for twos.

  The only difference between the two numbers was an extra squiggle in the upper line of the three. He checked the letter again. No, they were twos. He said so. “This is the number on the letter.”

  “You let me see, please?” Hassan asked.

  “Sure, Hassan.”

  The dragoman took the letter and examined it. He chuckled. “ Samehni , yasidi . That mean excuse, sir.Small mistake.You reading backward. Number is 2205.”

  “But how can that be?” Rick asked. “Arabic goes backward from English.”

  “Maybe so with words,” Hassan said. “But numbers not so. This number is 2205. You want to go?”

  Rick sighed. “I learn something new every day. Okay, Hassan. You’re the dragoman.”

  The little car swung around and sped back the way they had come, into a better part of the city. In a short time Hassan slowed and began searching. At last he pulled to the curb, in front of a large house of Victorian design. “Here is 2205,” he announced.

  The boys got out and saw immediately that the house was in darkness. Not a light shone anywhere.

  “No one home,” Rick said, disappointed.

  Scotty surveyed the dark structure. “Funny. A house this size must have servants. There should be a light somewhere.Maybe around back?”

  “I doubt it, but we can take a look.”

  Hassan’s voice stopped them. “Something wrong, I think.”

  “What do you mean?” Rick asked quickly.

  Hassan gestured to where a small group of people had gathered on the other side of the street. “Why they stop? Not so strange for car come to house like this.”

  That was true, Rick thought. The people stood quietly, watching, and in a moment two others joined them. Their attitude was not simple curiosity.

  “Can you ask them what’s up?” Scotty asked.

  “Will try.”Hassan took a step toward the group and called cheerfully in Arabic. No one answered. He walked toward them, still talking cheerfully, and the little group melted instantly into ordinary people walking the street on their various errands by ones and twos.

  Rick needed no interpreter for their actions. Rather than answer a courteous, cheerful question from Hassan they had hurried off, as though afraid of something.But what?

  “Pretty strange, I think,” Hassan said. “I just ask who can tell me where to find Fuad

  Moustafa, and they go.”

  Scotty had been staring at the house. He walked to the steps and stared into the darkness, then went up them onto the porch. In a moment he came down again.

  “Something’s very wrong,” he said. “I thought I saw the gleam of metal, and I did. A brand-new padlock on the door! New hasp, too, put on in a way no house owner would ever do it. It’s as though someone was closing a barn door and didn’t care how it looked.”

  A chill went down Rick’s spine. Instead of a solution, they had found a deeper mystery.

  He was sure of only one thing for the present. They should not wait at the house of Fuad Moustafa.

  “Come on,” he said.“Back to the hotel. If we can’t have facts to feed on, we can at least have that sandwich.”

  But the sandwich was not to be had so easily. Back in their room, a call to the waiter brought the porter, who announced that all hotel facilities were closed and the waiters had gone home. He would be glad to go to a restaurant he knew of and getthem

  sandwiches, but it would take a little time.

  The boys ordered,then got undressed. Scotty went in to wash up while Rick wrote cards to the folks at home. A knock interrupted him. “Must be the porter,” he called to Scotty, and went to open the door.

  A stranger stood there, a big man in an immaculate gray linen suit. He wore thick eyeglasses with stainless-steel rims. On his curly hair was a tarboosh of red velvet. In his hand was a gleaming, snub-nosed hammerless revolver, pointed at Rick’s midriff.

  A snub-nosed revolver was pointed at Rick’s midriff

  “I know it’s late,” the man said pleasantly, “but may I come in?”

  He walked through the door, and Rick backed away to make room.

  “Are you Fuad Moustafa?” he asked shakily.

  The man smiled. “I have not that honor. You have never seen a Moustafa, or you would not ask. They are famous for the biggest noses and mustaches in the Republic. I could have lied, but it is my pride that I neverlie . My identity is not important.”

  “What do you want?” Rick asked. He kept backing away, because he wanted desperately for the man to follow. That would give Scotty a chance to move in from behind.

  “I think you know what I want.A small and unimportant piece of plastic, in the shape of a cat.”

  “Why is the cat so important?” Rick asked.

  “It is not important. You may believe this. However, for reasons I shall not disclose, it has certain elements of value to a few people.”

  “Sentimental value?”Rick asked. He was stalling.

  “It depends on what one is sentimental about. I have no sentimental attachment to this object. I merely want it. Now, my time is short. I was fortunate to find the porter gone, buthe will doubtless return.The cat, my young friend, and quickly!”

  Scotty moved from the bathroom on silent, bare feet, and even as his pal moved, Rick saw the object in his hand. It was a nail file.

  Scotty stepped close and his hand moved. The stranger stiffened.

  “That’s a knife in your back,” Scotty said. “Drop the gun.”

  The revolver muzzle never faltered. “An interesting stalemate,” the man said calmly.

  “You can thrust, but no matter how fast you are, I can shoot. So, if I die, so does your friend. Now, since you created this situation, how are you going to get out of it? Or did I create it, through my careless eagerness? I was so pleased to find the hall empty that I forgot there were two of you.”

  “No matter,” Scotty informed him. “W
e can stand like this until help comes.”

  “Then you expect someone. Make no mistake, I will not be taken. If necessary, I will end the stalemate with a shot and take my chances with the knife. It is even possible I will get both of you.”

  Rick was watching the man’s face closely. He was not bluffing. There was no sign of sweat or nervousness. He knew the situation exactly, and was prepared to deal with it.

  The boy reached a decision.

  “Drop it, Scotty,” he commanded. “Pull back and come around so he can see you. I’m

  going to give him the cat.”

  “Don’t!” Scotty exclaimed. “Don’t, Rick!”

  “I’m going to give him the cat,” Rick repeated. “It isn’t worth bloodshed. Now co-operate, will you?”

  Scotty drew back and walked around so the stranger could see him. With a gesture of disgust he threw the nail file on one of the twin beds.

  The stranger smiled his appreciation.“A very good try. It would have worked, no doubt, on a less experienced man. Now, Mr. Brant, where is the cat?”

  “In my pocket, in the wardrobe.”

  The gun muzzle waved Scotty to the window at the far end of the room. “Out of reach, if you please. I will cover Mr. Brant just to be sure it is not a weapon that he has in his pocket.”

  Scotty obeyed, scowling. Rick led the way to the wardrobe. Moving slowly and

  carefully, he got the concrete kitten and held it up.

  “Excellent. I see the hotel has provided you with a newspaper. Please use it to wrap the cat.”

  Rick did so, and handed it over.

  “Thank you. I appreciate your co-operation, since I am a man who detests unnecessary violence. You have acted wisely.” He backed to the door, opened it, and closed it behind him.

  Rick’s eyes met Scotty’s across the room, and both grinned widely, but they said nothing in case the stranger had lingered outside the door. Not until a few moments had passed and Rick had checked the hallway did he speak.

  “Well,” he said happily, “one orphan kitten has found a happy home!”

  CHAPTER X

  The Great Pyramid

  Parnell Winston faced the group of Egyptian scientists in the crowded radio-telescope control room. Rick and Scotty waited impatiently for the scientist to begin. They knew something important was coming up, from remarks dropped by Winston earlier, but they didn’t know what.

  “Gentlemen,” Winston began, “Iand my young associates came at Dr.Kerama’s request because of the assumption that internal or local difficulties had caused the strange peaks in your Sanborn tracings of the first tryouts of the new system. The assumption was a natural and logical one. However, we have demonstrated that it isn’t true. The system is working so perfectly that I must congratulate you. It is seldom that anything so complex functions as well in the early stages.”

  Winston paused thoughtfully. “Of course Dr. Kerama realized that it would be highly unusual to have internal circuit troublecause such signals. But what we have left, after eliminating the possibilities of both internal and local interference, is something even more unusual. In fact, it is fantastic.”

  Rick moved forward a little. He didn’t want to miss any of this, because he knew Winston, and he had never before seen the scientist so excited.

  “What we have is a source of neutral hydrogen out in space, over five thousand light years away from earth. This source is moving at such incredible velocity that it is very close to the speed of light.”

  There was a stunned silence in the room. Rick considered the implications of Winston’s statement. The scientist had spent hours with Kerama and Farid going over the Sanborn tracings, checking the location of the source as shown by the big telescope’s position.

  The change in the source’s position, from the time of first discovery to yesterday’s checking of the system, had given enough data to calculate its velocity with reasonable accuracy.

  The big unknown was the precise distance of the source.Readings from a single position could not give distance with high accuracy, so the scientists weren’t sure of their figures-yet.

  Winston asked, “Dr. Kerama, do you want to explain what we have decided?”

  The Egyptian scientist nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Winston. And thank you on behalf of all of us for determining that our mystery does not come from the receiver system itself, or from nearby.”

  Kerama faced the group. “Last night I sent cables, giving detailed information on times, locations, and our computations to the radio-telescope stations atManchester,England , and Green Bank and Gold-stone in theUnited States . I also, at Dr. Winston’s suggestion, sent similar information to the Mount Palomar Observatory.

  “If the other radio telescopes are able to participate, it will serve to confirm or disprove our own information. If confirmed, we will then have a precise fix on the source that has caused us so much concern. We will also have the benefit of continuous consultation with our American and English colleagues. At the same time, the two-hundred-inch telescope at Palomar will attempt to see this strange object and to photograph it.”

  Rick knew of the huge American radio telescope at Green Bank,West Virginia , and the smaller one atGoldstoneLake , inCalifornia . Both had tracked space probes to incredible distances. TheManchester telescope, more generally known asJodrell Bank, had also tracked probes. With a team like that working along with Sahara Wells, results ought to be coming fast.

  Dr. Kerama continued. “We have been so concerned with what we thought was a

  problem that we have not accumulated all possible data on this hydrogen source. We will start at once to do this. The first step, of course, is to determine how long it is within view of our antenna, so that we may set up a schedule. The next is to obtain as much material as we can on the 21-centimeter wave length. After that we will shift to other wave lengths to see if the source is emitting. Dr. Farid will make assignments.”

  Farid stood up. “A radio-teletype circuit will be installed at once. Work is already in progress in the city, and we should have installation crews here within an hour or two.

  That will enable us to keep in touch with the other stations. For now, I would like Dr.Mandarawi and Dr.Azrar to establish the time when the source will be within our horizon, and set up the necessary data for the operator in charge of each shift. The rest of us will check out the circuit and establish calibration to be ready for recording this afternoon.”

  The scientist gestured to Rick and Scotty. “We know that the source will not come up over our horizon until about one o’clock. When it does, we would appreciate your help in making audio recordings. Until then, you’re on your own.”

  “What’ll we do?” Scotty asked.

  Rick looked at his watch. It was shortly after nine.

  “Why not go over to see the pyramids? Then we can have lunch at the Mena House and come back in time to go to work.”

  “Good idea. Better tell Winston, though, in case something comes up.”

  Rick did so, and the boys went outside to where Hassan waited patiently. They told him their plans and got into the little car for the short drive toGiza .

  “I got some of that, but not all,” Scotty said. “Give me a brief rundown.”

  “Okay. I’m no expert, but I think I got the drift. To start with, the most common thing in space is hydrogen gas. It gives off energy that can be detected on the 21-centimeter wave length. This is important to the radio astronomers, because they can use their telescopes to figure out how hydrogen is distributed throughout the universe.”

  “I’m with you,” Scotty said. “Now our boys have proved that the funny signals in the hydrogen impulse they’ve been getting originate in space, and hydrogen shouldn’t act like that.”

  “That’s it. Also, a hydrogen source in space ought to stay fixed. But this one is shooting off at high velocity. That would be strange enough, but it’s also giving off signals that don’t seem natural.”

  “So the scientists yell
for help from their colleagues inAmerica andEngland , and perhaps someone can figure out what’s causing this strange behavior?”

  “On the button,ol ’ buddy.”

  Scotty grinned. “It will probably turn out to be an Egyptian space cat mewing for milk from the Milky Way.”

  Rick patted the kitten in his pocket. He had replaced the one turned over to the intruder the night before. Now, as he told Scotty, only two orphan kittens needed homes. But placing the kittens didn’t answer the questions that puzzled him. Why was the Egyptian cat important? And who were the people that wanted it?

  There were things about the mystery that didn’t add up. For instance, Fuad Moustafa had written a polite letter claiming the cat, but strictlyunpolite and violent efforts had been made to get it. And where were the brothers Moustafa?

  Hassan drew to a stop before the great pyramid ofKhufu .“We here. Want to go in?”

  “In a while,” Rick answered. “We’ll take a look around outside, first.”

  The boys got out of the car and gazed upward at the incredible pile of masonry. The blocks were huge, weathered by centuries of wind and sand. Once the whole pyramid had been covered with a smooth facing of stone, but much of it had been destroyed by thieves trying to find the entrance to the Pharaoh’s tomb.

  Rick saw that the top of the lowermost course of blocks was covered with chips of the weathered stone. He picked up a couple and put them in his pocket. His rock collection at home could use a genuine piece of pyramid, and his sister Barby would like one for a paperweight.

  “This could be climbed,” Scotty said, gazing upward.

  “Oh, yes,” Hassan affirmed. “Some guides go up to top all the time. Can show you best way. You want to go?”

  “Not now,” Scotty said. “Let’s look around first. But I’m going to climb this before we leave.”

  “And I’ll be with you,” Rick said.

  They reached the corner of the pyramid and Rick sighted along the edge.

  The thing that impressed him most was the size of the individual blocks. Photographs were usually taken at sufficient distance to show the entire pyramid. At that distance they looked pretty smooth.