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The Journal of Sir Mumphrey Wilton, Extract Eleven: In which a delightful honeymooning couple assist in the matter of returning the Star of Anushla, and, as everybody was probably expecting, the mummy walks Thursday, 02-Sep-1999 07:12:34
The Journal of Sir Mumphrey Wilton, Extract Eleven In which a delightful honeymooning couple assist in the matter of returning the Star of Anushla, and, as everybody was probably expecting, the mummy walks Have always rather liked Luxor, with its massive ruined temple. There’s a really excellent bit with hundreds of columns ten feet thick in rows reaching up to the sky. Just try walking alone through that with the starry African sky as your roof, and see if it doesn’t make you marvel at the abilities of man and God alike. Of course, Asil and I had job to do, returning Star of Anushla to rightful resting place in temple raided by archaeologists a century ago and al that; but dash it young Asil got so very excited as we walked through the marketplace surrounded by people trying to haggle with us and barter with each other that it seemed utterly unfair not to do a little bit of the tourist thing. Took fellukah ride on Nile and pony trap trip along Eastern bank. Didn’t tip cab driver as can’t stand to see animals mistreated. Told him so. Telegrammed Tina, young Bautista’s friend, to let her know we’d got Asil unkidnapped etc. Asil e-mailed Visionary. Apparently e-mail a bit like telegram but done with computers. Seems like a lot of effort to make a delivery boy cart a big and delicate machine like that up to somebody’s house just to give ‘em a message, but Asil assures me it’s very quick and efficient. Long as bicyclist doesn’t wobble and make computer fall of (what they call a crash) I suppose. Arranged visit to Museum of Antiquities tomorrow to find out who rightful owner of Star of Anushla is. Booked in to Luxor Hilton, only place to stay in Southern Nile Valley. Had sharp words with desk clerk who assumed wanted shared suite with young lady companion. Standards falling everywhere. Not like that back in Carter’s day, I can tell you. Guest waiting to have baggage taken to honeymoon suite agreed, commending one on one’s way of ticking off oiks. Couldn’t place chap’s accent but clearly cultured intelligent fellow. Therefore invited him for snifter. Didn’t quite catch first name but think he’s called Pierson Porter. On world tour honeymoon. Good luck to the young couple, I say. That’s the way to launch a marriage. Met Mrs Porter at dinner, which Asil and I joined them for. Rather surprised at bridegroom’s pet name for rather lovely blonde wife. Called her Moo. Awkward connotations for me of appalling woman who crashed into my London offices leading Baron Zemo’s Scourge rabble, but no comparison between this sophisticated and delightful lady and the diabolical cow-headed Doctor Moo. Never did find out Mrs Porter’s given name. Asil very quiet at dinner. Seemed overawed by Moo, who was after all a very well-informed and well travelled lady. Can see why this young couple are so in love, well suited with similar temperaments and interests. Lady had some kind of pet in a basket under the table whom she fed choice titbits from the very acceptable apple-stuffed ham which we ate. Probably a small dog, given the sort of grumbling noises it was making. Porter seems knowledgeable chap, so consulted him on issue of Star of Anushla. Asil not keen on this, but Moo advises her not to worry, and my young amanuensis seemed to take this to heart. Porter suggested using some scientific apparatus he has to backtrack its previous spacial vectors, whatever that means. Seems to think he can work out where it lay all those centuries anyway. Don’t understand modern science, but probably involves use of e-mail. Porter agreed to have a go in the morning. Didn’t argue, as could see he and Moo were hoping for an early night. Remember all too well those early nights Madge and I used to have. Asil and Moo apparently getting on very well, as Moo came to Asil’s room later that night to give her some advice or something. Unfortunately Asil not present, having slipped off to foyer to post next seven postcards to Visionary and a “glad you’re not here” card to Fleabot. Moo therefore unfortunately stumbled on animated mummy searching Asil’s room for Star of Anushla. Seem to be having fair share of invaded hotel rooms recently. Anyway, Moo hadn’t been expecting trouble and had no time to scream of whatever it was she did. Suffice to say the mummy overcame her and carried her off, believing her to be my young companion. Asil and I were quite puzzled by the ransom note in the morning until Porter joined us looking for missing wife. Soon worked out where mix-up was. Sloped off to scene of crime and used pocketwatch to replay the event, hence learning of involvement of animated mummy. Didn’t tell others. Best not to worry them. Couldn’t track mummy after it captured poor Moo, as chronal charge insuffienct for reconstruction almost ten hours since. Asil not keen on rescue mission; not like her as she’s usually a plucky lass. Suppose idea of shambling bandage-shrouded corpse deterred her – although come to think of it she didn’t know it was a mummy until later on, did she? Anyway, Asil insisted on staying at hotel room, which was a bit of a relief because I do so worry about her. In loco parentis and all that. Pierson Porter seemed very angry. Suggested that if Moo was harmed he would wreak terrible vengeance on whole of mankind. Suggested that he steady on. No point losing head. Now was time for cool deduction and careful planning. Porter produced spacial vector tracker, clever gadget I’d not seen before, and as promised identified place where Star of Anushla had lain for three thousand years. I arranged for us to hire some camels to get to desert location. Porter unsure about using “primitive native quadrupeds of uncertain temperament.” Agreed about temperament, but pointed out that camel is highlt specialised piece of equipment, as fitted for it’s use as a spacial vector tracker. Later, porter suggested that a camel was “yet another reason for the utter eradication of all life on Earth.” Feel like that myself sometimes when the damn things spit and tread on your foot. So to hidden temple in rocks of little valley seen by few white men – well, except the archaeologists who dug it up and traipsed off with the loot, of course. Sunset when we arrived. Had availed myself of a double-barrelled shotgun for security purposes, but Porter only had a sort of torch affair, so I made certain to keep him well covered. All very well young chap wanting to safe his new wife and all that – admire it – but doesn’t do to let him get himself killed, don’t you know? Of course, the temple had all the usual deadfalls, poison darts, scorpion pits etc. Porter proved immensely useful with some of these. Turns out his torch was a little gadget called a Variable Sword, which has a little marble-thingie dangling at the end of this three-foot long really sharp filament. Certainly cut through deadfalls very effectively, anyway. I managed to use my chronomenter covertly to inhibit the moving stonework and poisoned thorns long enough for him to notice them and deal with the dangers. Really took me back, going through a trap-laden temple like this. Felt quite nostalgic by the time we rescued the gal. Of course, this time it wasn’t Madge. Still, in fairness, Moo had done just as well at scuppering the baddies as Madge ever did. She’d somehow scared the heck out of them. The cultists were grovelling at her feet wailing, “Hail Hathor, the great cow of the universe.” All looked set for a jolly reunion when the ancient mummified high priest (for it was he) leaped out of a concealed passageway and wrapped his hands around Porter’s throat, locking on with a supernatural grip. Cultists lost interest in worshipping Hathor and gained new motivation to flee like the wind. Moo tried to detach mummy from hubbie, but was swept aside. Can’t abide violence to ladies. Said as much. Porter clearly not getting anywhere with probably e-mail powered gadget against supernatural nasty of the nether thingies. Checked pocketwatch and detected a sort of chonal inhibition field around the monster, something sort of holding back the ravages of time. Set up centerfield around chronometer. Hit mummy with chronometer. Interesting effect as three millennia of time caught up with high priest all at once. Very dusty. Porter suddenly found that Variable Sword was working on chappie again. End of chappie. “Give me the Star of Anushla!” Porter demanded, very serious-like all of a sudden. Handed it to him, and he did something to it with one of his machines and it started glowing. Placed it back on the altar where it had lain for all those years. “It’s returned,” the inventor-fellow pointed out. “Let’s go. Quickly.” So we left. Just as well, as whole temple destroyed by absolutely huge explosion not long afterwards. Suspect something to do with application of gadget to Star. Moo said she was glad to see both of us. Kissed hubby very sweetly and said that their business with Asil and I was not yet concluded. Bit puzzled by that, as when returned to hotel Moo and Asil vanished for long heart-to-heart and the Mr and Mrs Porter packed up and left almost at once. Never did get to the bottom of it. Still, it’s good to know there are a few nice people left in the world, isn’t it. And they made such a lovely couple. NOTE: Except twelve features an account of some of these same events from the newly begun Diary of Asil. Don’t miss it. Mumphrey; this story is dedicated to Mr Pierson's Porter, who recently presented the author with a generous and unexpected postal surprise. Thanks. |
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