Mysterious Cairo (40 page)

Mersah whirled on him. "Will you relax? One of my friends invited me here! Oh, there she is." Mersah dived into the crowd, bobbing and weaving through the throng of low-life thugs, low-life but wealthy thugs and low-life thug hangers-on. Muttering to himself, "A gin joint! I shouldn't be here." He tried to work his way through the crowd. He caught up with Mersah in a few minutes, only managing to spill about a half-dozen drinks.

Mersah was holding an animated conversation with a striking blond. As soon as Akh-Mal came back into view, she pulled him over by the sleeve, talking a mile a minute. "Kristin, this is Akh-Mal. Honey, this is Kristin. She's a student at the university; she's from Canada, and she just loves going out here. Isn't this exciting? What should we do first — get a drink or play some games?"

Somehow, Akh-Mal and Kristin both mouthed a mutually unheard, "Hi!"

Before he knew what was going on, Mersah had disappeared back into the crowd, headed back in the direction of the gambling tables. Kristin saw the look of concern on Akh-Mal's face and tried to reassure him. "Don't worry. She's just having fun. She'll be back. Let me get you a beer."

Akh-Mal was grateful for her concern and embarrassed that he so obviously appeared uncomfortable.

He found an empty table toward the back of the room, and waited patiently for Kristin to return. He saw on the next table, of all things, a Gypsy telling fortunes. Kristin was soon at the table. After exchanging small talk about the university, she noticed that Akh-Mal's attention continually drifted over to the next table. "Go ahead and get your fortune told." Akh-Mal took an uncomfortable drink from the beer bottle.

As soon as the customer was away, Akh-Mal slid into the chair across from the Gypsy. Passing over the five royals, the Gypsy started arranging the tarot cards in a strange fashion. The old woman completed the layout, and slowly started flipping the cards. "The cards tell me that you are worried. Mortality is on your mind. Those around you aren't providing the support you seek."

Akh-Mal nodded slightly. Kristin pulled up the chair next to him, quietly clinking her beer bottle off his. "How's it going, eh? Going to hit the big time—wealth, fortune? You've already got love with Mersah." Akh-Mal looked over at her for a second and then turned his attention back to the Gypsy.

As the Gypsy flipped another row of cards, her brow furrowed. "This is bad. You see this card — the Stone Queen—it represents a negative female influence. This card says danger and betrayal. And this card represents someone who's very close to you. This is a climactic time in your life. Be careful of yourself ... and those you are with."

Kristin looked from the Gypsy to Akh-Mal. She managed a feeble smile. "Hey, this is supposed to be fun. Let's go gamble."

Akh-Mal awoke, screaming, bathed in sweat. Looking around, it took him a while to remember where he was. Then he leaned over and kissed Mersah on the cheek. She was already awake, eyes wide with terror.

"Akh-Mal, will you be well? You weren't exaggerating about the dreams, were you?"

"No, I wasn't. I must be going home."

"Now? It's ...
three
in the morning."

"I know. But . I must go home."

Akh-Mal reached down and grabbed his clothing and his brief case. He noticed part of the necklace hanging out the top.
At least I can count on my work! That, at least, is in control.

Without a word, Akh-Mal was gone.

The day seemed to drag on forever. Akh-Mal was relieved when it had come time to leave. He wasn't going to go home tonight — Khari forbade him to come back. He didn't really care. He needed to see Mersah; she would at least make him feel better.

His research on the little girl had gone nowhere. More outbursts. He was worried about her. She certainly was more than she appeared to be. Nehrav had threatened him again because of his lack of progress. At least Mersah and he would be going out tonight.

As he packed up his books and pocketed the necklace, he heard the soft footsteps of his beloved Mersah. This time, however, she refused to knock, and simply stormed in.

"I need to talk to you. What did you think you were doing last night? You left!"

"I
had to go home. That's where I belong — I don't want to be there, but it is my duty."

"I know it is your duty. But I want a man who can look beyond his duty. Someone who can enjoy life. Last night you weren't enjoying yourself. You didn't fit in." He saw tears welling in her eyes and she let out a soft sob. "We don't belong together. We must end it."

Akh-Mal didn't hear her leave.

Akh-Mal stood overlooking the River Nile. The traffic rushed by, but the darkness obscured him from the peering eyes of the curious. He wanted to leave this world inconspicuously. The last thing he wanted was pity and mock concern. No one would notice the solitary man contemplating the waters below.

I have truly lost it all. I have nothing left. It is time to end it.

Akh-Mal took one last look out at the city. As he readied to jump into the river, he felt a presence. With one hand he reached to his head, while he tried to balance himself with the other. As he gripped the railing, his hand brushed the mysterious necklace. He went dizzy with pain. The presence was like that in the dreams, like that of Anubis, but he had never experienced it while awake. He felt more and more disoriented. The pressure increased and his head seemed to be trapped in an invisible vice. The pain was so intense tears began to roll down his cheeks. Darkness overcame him.

Akh-Mal awoke suddenly. He never expected to be awake again. He didn't dare open his eyes. He couldn't remember anything beyond the El Giza Bridge. He opened his eyes.

This looks like the Children's Center.

He sat up, and realized that things were ... different. He saw a lock of blond hair on his shoulder. He looked for a mirror. Grabbing it with undersized hands, and pulling it close to his face, he saw Angela in the reflection.

How can it be? Trapped in the body of the child?

He looked about, and saw the tattered black and white photo on the dresser. It had changed and was now a picture of the girl. Angela.

The door to the room opened. It was one of the attendants. "Angela, I'm glad to see you're feeling better. You were running an awful fever this morning. We let you sleep late — it's early in the afternoon now. I'll have lunch for you soon. Mr. Kabeel from the University has come to see you now. He wants to talk to you."

With ever increasing horror, he saw his own form enter the room. Akh-Mal. The body was the same, but he ... it ... couldn't conceal the evil grin.

"Good morning, Angela. You can give me the photo, now."

The nurse shut the door behind her as she patiently waited outside in the hallway.

"Akh-Mal" closed in on the terrified man trapped in the body of the girl. "You were such a fool, 'Angela.' Couldn't even recognize the Occult, could you? This talisman, my precious necklace, slowly lured you into my power. Like a fool, you gave in so easily. I thought I would be trapped in that body for a long time, but you were so easily manipulated. And with 'your' behavior recently, those tantrums . no one will have trouble believing that you have lost all grip on your sanity. And I will just disappear from view for a while."

The man walked over to the door and called the nurse back inside.

"Nurse, as I told you, the magical 'aura' around the girl has somehow subsided. I think the strain on her has been too much. She cannot distinguish between reality and fantasy — pretend is real to her. Her delusions are so complete she believes in them entirely and nothing will change her mind. As per the orders approved by myself and Mr. Nehrav, the institution will come and pick her up later on this afternoon. Maybe they can help her, the poor soul."

Ed Stark

Lots of things make me happy. Mai Li, my late girlfriend, could make me happy with a smile or a song — or just by holding my hand. Likewise, I can be made sad. The day she died, I cried. That made me angry, too, because she didn't deserve to die and she was
my girl.
I was frustrated too, and a little scared — because she caught a bullet meant for me.

All these emotions came to the surface that night in Angie's dressing room. Seeing Bennie dead on the broken door, and Angie's open-mouthed stare started it, but seeing a ninja — a
ninja
— an agent of those who'd robbed me of my happiness, standing over the fallen corpse, finished it.

His eyes had gone right to me, and fear threatened to choke me. But anger and adrenalin came right behind and, if he had thought his evil eyes, his traditional mask, and that damned brace of 'stars in his hand was going to cow
me,
he was to be sorely disappointed.

I leapt at him. I'm aware that I yelled, but I don't remember what. He sidestepped gracefully, bringing his left hand over my back in a bone-crushing strike.

Or it might have been.

Sometimes I'm lucky, and sometimes I'm good. That night, I was both — I think. I mean, the ninja
should
have hit me, but ...

I used my momentum to dive through the doorway, just ahead of his dropping blow. Rolling and reversing course, I bounced off the hallway wall and jumped at his back. He didn't get out of the way that time — I think he was dumbstruck with how fast this
gaijin
could move.

My shoulder met his and his gave. I heard a crack, and I think his collarbone went. Still, the impact gave him the momentum to roll away, past Angie, and into the room.

The way he came up throwing, you wouldn't know he was hurt. 'Stars flashing in the air and I must have been blessed by the gods—two missed completely and the other just snagged my jacket. Like I said before, it's got some "special" qualities.

I'd stopped yelling, but I cursed him and came on. Angie jumped up on her chair to get out of the way — the housewife avoiding the two very dangerous rodents.

The ninja reached behind him and drew a
wakizashi — a short, slightly-curved sword. The blade was blackened, except for the sharp edge.

The
very
sharp edge.

My mad-on was fading a little and my survival instinct kicked in. I grabbed a broom from the corner and tried a little trick I'd learned. Before my opponent could assume his ready position — at which point I'd probably be finished, bunged-up shoulder or not — I swung the broom in a haymaker at his head.

His blade intercepted it easily, reacting with the speed of thought. Unfortunately for him, it didn't matter. I'd let go of the broom as it started its downward trajectory, and I dove at my attacker. The only way to beat these guys is not to let them move.

My move worked — the guy in the black pajamas couldn't bring his sword back in time to ward me off, so instead had to satisfy himself with slamming the hilt into my back. It hurt like hell, but I paid him in kind. Lifting him off his feet, I slammed his damaged shoulder into the wall. I would've liked to get his head, but he was too agile for that.

Still, he made no sound.

My grip was around his waist, so his arms were free. If I didn't work fast, he'd have that ginsu knife reversed and in my back before I could get away. Sliding my arms up just under his armpits, I swung him around and into the wall again. He reminded me of my manhood by bringing up his knee — thank God he was off-center. If the adrenalin rush wore off, I'd probably pass out.

We wrecked the little room in our dance with death. His legs flailed about and he refused to let go of that damned sword. I must have bashed him against the wall five times before he let out so much as a groan. Finally, just when I thought I'd have to let him go or fall, he went limp.

Giving his head one more swat against the wall, I dropped him onto what looked like the remains of a coffee table. I looked up, and Angie was standing by the doorway now, fear and horror on her face.

"Tie him up," I barked, as I stumbled past Bennie's body towards the door, "and don't be gentle."

I looked out into the bar and gasped. Most of the patrons were still there, slumped over their tables as if sleeping. A few lay on the dance floor, sharp pointy things protruding from their backs, throats, and eyes. Jules was lying near the open door of the speakeasy, his hand grasping the black mask of a ninja. There was blood all over him.

Stumbling out, I had my fears confirmed. The patrons were dead — most poisoned, and from the looks of it by their own drinks. Not much work for a ninja to wander through the dance floor, dispensing death in the form of a white powder or a pill. Apparently, they'd only gotten about six patrons that way before somebody noticed. Three men and a woman looked like they'd tried to flee, only to be cut down by missiles. I shuddered when I saw their wounds.

They'd been poisoned too.

My fatigue left me as I frantically stripped off my jacket and shirt — had the bastard hit me?
Even a scratch ...

No. The only blood on me was his. I was bruised and battered, but not cut. I didn't think I'd be doing the limbo any time soon, but .

I heard a glass break and a groan from behind the bar.