The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 68 -- Getting Acquainted

 "Sam, let’s get out of here," said Albert as he reached over and picked up Sam's flashlight. "I think you've had all of Cleopatra you want for today. I never really like her anyway. Of course, I'm often reminded of the old movies about her. The actresses that played her were much more attractive."

Sam glanced over at the dead queen.  Albert grabbed Sam’s upper arm, and, in a flash, the tomb was gone.  They stood in a bedroom.  The furniture looked old, but the room was clean and tidy.  Books were stacked on every available surface.  Albert opened the bedroom door and lead Sam out into the upstairs hallway of the Steers' house.    Sam knew immediately where they were.  The door to his apartment was ajar.

"Hey!  How did we end up here?  Aren't we supposed to came back downstairs?"

"In the beginning, yes," said Albert.  "But eventually, you'll be able to travel from anywhere and return anywhere you like."

"Awesome."

"I suggest you use the back parlor for now.  You are still in training. Let's go downstairs."

Sam nodded.

"We’ve got visitors." Xavier announced from the sofa in the front parlor. He lounged with his feet up on the coffee table. Not bothering to get up, he greeted them. "Welcome back. How was good old dead Cleo? Did you get all wrapped up with her?"

Mrs. Steers shouted from the kitchen. "Are you two hungry? I can make sandwiches."

Without hesitation, Xavier responded. "I’ll have chicken salad."

"You can come and fix it. It’s in the refrigerator."  Mrs. Steers echoed back as she organized a small buffet on the kitchen counter.  She then mumbled under breath.  "Xavier, you have got to be laziest person.  If your Father were here..."  She stopped when Sam and Albert came in and sat down at the kitchen table.

"Sam, did you get enough about Cleopatra for your report?" Mrs. Steers made several ham and cheese sandwiches for them. Xavier flitted in and began poking around in the refrigerator.

"I did," said Sam, grabbing a sandwich. He realized he hadn’t eaten all day and was starving.

Between bites, Sam quizzed Albert. "I thought you were dead.  Lost at sea or something?"

Mrs. Steers sat down at the table. "It’s a long story. First, we needed someone who could sneak about and look for the other copies of the book. My Albert has gotten many of us out of jams."

She reached over and patted Albert's hand.  "That's why we call him 'The Rescuer.'  That's his code name."

Albert chimed in. "Remember the time we had to deal with that cult in France. What a group that was."

"They were before my time," said Xavier, sitting down with a sandwich and an apple."  "But I've heard the stories.  They had some wild ideas,"

"It sounds like you’ve had some great adventures." Sam finished his sandwich. "What about this group in France? Do a lot of people know about the books?"

"The group in France was a small cult of individuals who wanted to the book.  They claimed they wanted to study history, but as it turned out, they had other plans.  We have no members of the club would let their power go to their head," said Xavier.  "A lot of people do not know about the books.  We are exclusive."

"Have you gotten to meet Jameson?" Albert asked Sam. "Interesting man. I think you need to meet him and see his shop.  Lottie, you should arrange that."  Albert got up and fixed another sandwich.  "Jameson and I have been on the trail of two copies of the book for several years now. We think one copy is in Baltimore. There seems to be some tie to Edgar Allan Poe."

Sam perked up. "Really? Edgar Allan Poe? I’ve read all of his stories. He’s one of my favorites.  I added him to my list of people to see."

"Good choice of reading," said Albert. "Apparently, someone may have slipped Poe a copy of the book while he was on his way to Baltimore. You know about his death, don’t you?"

Sam shrugged. "I assume he just got old and died."

Sounding like Mrs. Steers, Albert began to tell the story.

"Well, yes and no. He did die, but they don't know the whole story. You see Poe arrived in Baltimore from Washington. But eventually, his whereabouts were questioned. Nobody knew where he was."

Xavier piped up.  "But you do."

Albert glanced over at Xavier and cleared his throat.   "As I was saying, later Poe was found delirious and was taken to a nearby hospital. That’s where he died, but he happened to be wearing another man’s clothes and his suitcase was missing. According to our research, Poe kept crying out about someone named Reynolds."

Albert stopped and took another bite of his sandwich. Sam was annoyed by being left hanging.

"And..." said Sam.

With sandwich in mouth, Albert continued. "Anyway, no one really knew who Reynolds was. From what we have tracked down, the person we have nicknamed Reynolds may have slipped a copy of the book into Poe’s suitcase during his trip. Then when he arrived in Baltimore, someone stole his bag in order to get the book."

Mrs. Steers chimed in. "After the book was published, an English chapter of the Time Savers Club did their best to get them back, but it was too late, the books had scattered. We’re not sure if Reynolds was a member of that group or not. The American Time Savers Clubs worked on finding the two copies that they know showed up here in the States."

Xavier spoke up. "So, Dr. H. has one copy. And this Poe copy might be the other?"

"Might be," said Albert. "I have to meet Jameson later this afternoon in Baltimore. We’re going over some more research. And of course, take a look at some of scenes during Poe's trip. It's difficult to tell if the book was actually in the bag..."

"When you can't see in it," Sam finished Albert's sentence.

"That's right," said Mrs. Steers.  "Very good observation."

"Mrs. Steers, when can I go by myself?"  asked Sam.

"Soon, but not just yet."  Mrs. Steers looked over at Albert and Xavier.  Seeing his disappointment, she struggled for a few extra words.  "We want... you to be safe... for the moment.   Don't worry though, you'll get the chance."

With that and lunch over, Albert retired upstairs to rest. Mrs. Steers had to study her response to her presentation to the International Council. Xavier left for his Uncle Griff’s. And Sam had a report to write about Cleopatra.

As he climbed the stairs, Sam thought.  Another busy day.  I'm so lucky.  I just wish I could go somewhere by myself.

The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 67 -- Trapped

 Meanwhile, inside the mausoleum, Sam experienced another hiccup in time.  Now, he stood in the same spot where he had been watching the dying Mark Anthony.  But, Mark Anthony was gone.   Cleopatra and her handmaids came running through an open door.  Sam followed, feeling the hard-stone floor beneath his feet, then down steps.

"This is so freakin' odd.   The stone steps feel just like any other stone step."  It wasn't the first time that Sam freaked out over the strangeness of time-travel.

They all ran down the marble stairs to the main entrance.  The two handmaidens pushed the main entrance doors closed, sealing them in.   Sam had read about how no one could get in once these doors were closed.  From there, they rushed back to the mausoleum's inner chamber with Sam right behind them.  He didn't know what was going on, but he kept following them.

Cleopatra dropped onto a small sofa while the handmaidens slammed the chamber's doors.   Waving her hand, the Queen spoke animatedly to her handmaidens.  They nodded and ran off.

"How do you talk hieroglyph?" said Sam, pondering what language she spoke.  "Eye... bird... eye... lion... hand...  I bet Mrs. Steers would know...  Wait, she should have been here by now."

Sam contemplated going to find her. Starting to pull out his notebook with the spells, he turned just into time to see a handmaiden's bosom come right at him.   She ran right through him.  Sam felt the temperature drop and then immediately return to normal.  Stunned, Sam froze in place, before grimacing.

"Oh yuck," cried Sam, turning to her.   "That's disgusting. Take a bath, will ya!"  Her sweaty body odor was mixed with a sweet smell that Sam couldn't identify.   Sam fanned himself and ran in a small circle trying to rid himself of the smell.

The handmaiden stood by Cleopatra.  Sam saw the other handmaiden coming towards him.  Only this time, he jumped out of her way as she sped by.  She carried a small woven basket covered with red cloth. She pulled off the cloth and handed Cleopatra the basket.

In the history books, Sam read about the theories of how Cleopatra died.  The most popular being that she held a deadly-venom asp to her breast, and it bit her.  Another was that she drank poison.   Sam got a feeling that he was about to find out.  Waiting, he listened to her and her handmaidens, wondering what they were saying.

Cleopatra reached into the basket.  Sam was amazed at what he saw.  "Aha, so that's the way she died." 

Moments later, Cleopatra slumped over on the sofa.  Her eyes grew weary, lids drooping.   Sam turned away.  "I can't watch this..."  When he opened them, the room was pitch black and all was quiet.  Feeling for his bag, Sam reached in and pulled out his flashlight.

Clicking it on, Sam flashed it about the room.  He was still in the chamber where he last stood.  He realized it was another hiccup.  Once again, Sam was surrounded by dead bodies -- the queen and her two handmaids.   Sam looked closely at the body of Cleopatra.  Her eyes closed. Sam realized he was alone.

"Mrs. Steers?  Where's Mrs. Steers?"  Sam felt anxious.  He had waited like she had told him, but she hadn't appeared.  "Maybe something happened. Maybe this is my first test.  To see if I can get home by myself."

Being brave came easy to Sam.  "I can do this.  I can do this.  Maybe I should wait a little while longer.  Maybe the hiccups confused her, and she doesn't know where I am."

While contemplating this, he heard a noise like a squeak of a shoe on marble. Footsteps from somewhere in the dark.  Someone was coming.

Sam clicked off his flashlight and stood perfectly still.  He began to repeat. "I must remain calm. I must remain calm. I must remain calm."  He took deep breaths, listening to the footsteps and trying to determine where they were going.

From out of the darkness, a bright beam of light glared in his eyes. Sam feel backwards onto the stone floor.   He dropped his flashlight, hearing the metal canister hit and roll across the stone floor.

"Hello?" said Sam with the light still in his eyes.  He shaded his face with his hand.

"Sam?" said a soft mellow voice.  "Are you Sam?"

"Who wants to know?" said Sam.

"I am the Rescuer.  I am here to rescue you."  The beam moved from his blinded eyes.  The light turned out to be a clear orb housed within a glass ball.  A metal frame wrapped around the ball and formed a handle on top.

Sam looked up at a dark caped figure.  A hood shrouded the figure's face.  A bony handheld the lantern's handle.   The Rescuer leaned forward to look down at him.  Reminded of his nightmares, Sam screamed.  "Don't hurt me!" Sam put his hand out in front of him.

"Well, I hadn't planned on that. So, you are Sam," said the mellow voice.  "I've heard a lot about you from Lottie. And from Griff Graff.  I had to rescue him too not to long ago. Well, it's good to finally meet you.  And don't worry, I have not intentions of hurting you."

Catching his breath, Sam calmed a little. "But... But... who are you?"  said Sam.

The Rescuer sat the lantern down and pulled back the hood of the cloak.  The light reflected off his wire-framed glasses and shined on the face of an old man.  He smoothed out his grey hair, adjusted his glasses.  He spoke in a soft mellow voice.

"I'm Albert Steers."

The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 66 -- The Search

In the middle of a busy avenue in Ancient Alexandria, Bruno, Tinean, and Dreda appeared.  Their mission to search the ancient city to find Mrs. Steers and Sam.  They walked through the ghosts of Ancient Egypt without care. They found a shady spot under a portico.

"This sucks." Bruno complained, shrugging his shoulders, then scratched his crotch.  "How are we going to find them? Look at this place. It's packed with people. Do you have any idea how big this city is?"

"No," said Dreda.  Annoyed, she looked up at him. "Just how big is it?"

"I dunno know.  That's why I asked."

"I realize that this city is many years old.  And they could be in any time or any place in it."  Dreda shook her head.   "Let's just walk and see what's going on."

She thought to herself as they meandered along the wide avenue, trying to stay in the shade away from the hot sun.  Stupid Doctor.   I mean really...  How in the name of St. Teresa are we supposed to find them? He knows Bruno can't use the migration spell... And I'm not telling him I can... Of course, I can always lie to Bruno.

Bruno mumbled as he lumbered along.   "This is crazy.  I don't know who he thinks we are."

"I don't think we are looking in the right place," said Tinean sarcastically.   "Wherever Cleopatra is, is where we will probably find our prey."

Rolling her eyes, Dreda sassed him.  "Thank you for that great observation.  I didn't realize that teh great Sherlock Holmes was traveling with us."

Tinean sneered back at her, however, he knew better then to get smart with her.

"Let's pop over to Cleo's house," said Bruno.

Again, Dreda rolled her eyes.  Morons.  I work with morons.

They appeared outside Cleopatra's mausoleum.  Dreda quickly spied Mrs. Steers, but remained silent.  Mrs. Steers saw them arrive then turned to Sam.  He disappeared with only Dreda seeing him.  Being in a mood, Mrs. Steers approached them.

"What do you goons want?" Mrs. Steers stood firm, ready to confront them.

"We're just enjoying the afternoon sun," said Dreda.  "And what are you doing here, Grandma?  Taking in the scenery?  Waiting for Red Riding Hood?  Ideas for your flower garden?"

"Grandma!  I'll show you grandma!"  Mrs. Steers' temper flared.

"Hold on there, Grandma,” said Tinean.  "Don't get your stockings in a twist."

That did it.  "I may be old, but I'm not too old to take on the likes of you three!"

Bruno was the first to burst out laughing.  He was also the first target of her ire.  Mrs. Steers leapt up and cracked both of his shins at once.  Bruno buckled in pain as Mrs. Steers leapt back.

"Why is it always my shins," cried Bruno, tears rolling down his cheeks as he bent down to rub them.

Tinean and Dreda watched amazed at Mrs. Steers' moves.

"So, you thought I would be an easy take-down, did you?" laughed Mrs. Steers.  "Guess again."

Next, Mrs. Steers whirled around to face Dreda.   Backing up, not really sure what to expect, Dreda hunched over a little in preparation.   Tinean reached down, pulled a knife out of his right boot, and readied himself to throw it.

"Are you pulling a knife on me?" asked Mrs. Steers, eyeing him.  "Wait until you see what I've go in store for you."

Without seeing him, Bruno grabbed her from behind and picked her up.  Unaware of Mrs. Steers agility ability, she dug her heels once again into his shins causing Bruno to spin around just as Tinean threw his knife.   His aim was for Mrs. Steers, but the knife ended up in Bruno's right butt cheek.

Screaming in pain, Bruno dropped Mrs. Steers.  He fell to the ground clutching at the knife handle.   Dreda ran over to him.

"Great job, bonehead," shouted Dreda at Tinean.  "You hit a target, but the wrong one."  Dreda took hold of the knife and pulled it out.  Bruno screamed again in agony.   Blood soaked the spot where the knife had penetrated.   She grabbed his arm and they disappeared.

Tinean turned to Mrs. Steers and hissed.   "It's just you and I, Grandma."

"Ha!  I've dealt with worse."  Mrs. Steers began to literally run circles around him.  Tinean tried to home in on her, but she was fast.

Mrs. Steers laughed.  "You never would have guessed a 76-year-old Grandma could do this could you."

Tinean became dizzy.  He grabbed his whip from his belt and aimed it at her.

Kerrrrwack...  Missed!  Kerrrrwack... Once again, he missed!  The whip curled in front of him.

"Good luck," Mrs. Steers kept running in circles.

Tinean posed himself, preparing his whip.  Just as she came around, he cracked it.  The last foot of the whip wrapped itself around her lower arm.   Mrs. Steers grabbed it and kept running.

Before Tinean had a chance to act, she had wrapped part of the whip around him.  Quickly, he began to turn to try to keep from getting wrapped up too tight.  Mrs. Steers got one good round of whip around his chest before she stopped in front of him.

"Had enough?"

Tinean sneered at her.  "I spit on you."

Mrs. Steers spoke like a fragile old woman for a moment.  "Wrong thing to say to a poor old Grandma like me." She grabbed the whip and gave it a mighty tug.   Tinean spun around and rolled on the ground.  Before he had the chance to get up, Mrs. Steers had the whip.

Kerrrrwack...  Over and over she snapped the whip near him.  Tinean scrambled to get away, but he didn't have a chance.   Mrs. Steers' aim got him twice, once on each cheek.  Tinean grabbed his face.  Lesions appeared and blood oozed from the scrapes.

"Damn!"  Tinean staggered up still holding his cheeks.

Mrs. Steers could feel herself tiring.  The potion began to wear off.  I hope he's done... she thought to herself.   I won't be able to go on much longer...

Tinean backed up.  "You bitch."   And then he disappeared.

He left not a moment too soon.  His comment angered Mrs. Steers even more.  She staggered over to a nearby stone wall and leaned against it.  She slowly recoiled the whip.

"I'm glad that's over.  Thank goodness Sam wasn't here.  That would have required a lot of explanation."

Mrs. Steers slid down the wall, eventually sitting on the ground.   Taking deep breaths, she tried to relax.   Closing her eyes, she rested.   She rubbed her arm, the one she had used to crack the whip.

"Lottie, you're too old to be fighting like this anymore.  You're not a spring chicken."  Mrs. Steers snickered at herself.

Looking over at Cleopatra's mausoleum, she made a quick decision.   "Sam will be alright.  I hope I don't regret this, but..."

She uttered the incantation to take her home.

The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 65 -- The Mighty Queen

 "I'm glad I wore my shorts," said Sam.  "This place is bloody hot."

"Where did you hear that word?  Bloody?"  Mrs. Steers asked.

"While we were in London, but also in a movie."

"I see, well it is summer here," said Mrs. Steers.  "She picked a fine time of the year to die.  Let's see."

Sweating, Mrs. Steers and Sam stood in the sun on a paved-stone back street of ancient Alexandria.  They stepped into the shade of a plain tan building. There was little decoration to any of the surroundings. Sam could see a clear blue sky above with the blazing sun now in the East.  Within a blink, it moved to the western part. From somewhere nearby, they could hear a study murmuring of voices.

"I think we just experienced a hiccup.  We must be near water," said Mrs. Steers.  "I can hear waves breaking.  There's also some seagulls flying around."

Sam was anxious to see the city, a little more than seeing Cleopatra.  At the end of the street, Sam spied people walking past.

"Let's go that way." Sam pointed and headed toward the end of the street, with Mrs. Steers following.  Stepping out into an intersection of narrow streets, Sam spotted more people.

Walking down one narrow street, Sam and Mrs. Steers found themselves on the edge of a vast thoroughfare of packed dirt and sand.  Egyptians dressed in white tunics or skirts moved in both directions.  Roman soldiers on horses rode by.  Dark men in multi-colored robes led camels burdened with goods. Down the center, huge horse troves filled with water formed a single line.   Both sides of the street were lined with columned buildings with red-tiled roofs.

"There seem to be a lot of wide streets now," said Sam. "Remember that one street in London.  New London doesn't have any streets this wide.  This smells different though.  It smells like water and dead fish.  You know that sea smell."

Mrs. Steers reached into her bag and pulled out her guidebook.   After a few moments of study, she announced.  "I have no idea where we are.  This map is too new."

"Why don't you get one for this time?"

"They didn't have city maps like we do.  This isn't exactly a time of luxury for most people.  Hmmm..."  Mrs. Steers launched into her role as tour guide, telling Sam all about the city, the buildings, architecture, and the Roman influence on the culture.

Annoyed, Sam rolled his eyes, shifting back to really wanting to see Cleopatra.  "I think the simplest would be go right to Cleopatra herself.   I really want to hear more about the city, but maybe later.  Ok?"

Mrs. Steers stopped and reluctantly agreed.  Reciting the incantation, they now stood in front of a majestic limestone building on one side of mosaic tiled square. Towering golden statues of Egyptian figures stood along the building's facade.   Two smaller statues stood on each side of grey and black swirled marble double doors.   Flaming torches made the gold shine.  Other less-impressive stone buildings lined the rest of the square.

"This is Cleopatra's mausoleum."  Mrs. Steers began another one of her history lessons in her typical tourist-guide tone.  "Mark Anthony was defeated in battle against the Roman army. He had heard that Cleopatra had died."

Just as Mrs. Steers finished, a Roman soldier arrived on horseback, followed by another horse with a wounded soldier, hunched over in the saddle.

The Roman soldier spoke in a language Sam didn't recognize.

"Latin," said Mrs. Steers. "Do you know any Latin, Sam.  Other than the incantations of course."

Sam shook his head.

Mrs. Steers pointed to the injured soldier on the horse.  "I know enough to tell you that is Marc Anthony.  The love of Cleopatra's life."

Mrs. Steers and Sam watched as the soldier helped the famed yet dying Mark Anthony from his horse.  He led him over to a woven reed gurney.  Lying down in it, Marc Anthony began to be pulled up and then through a window above the main entrance.

"And there he goes," said Mrs. Steers.  "Into the arms of his beloved Cleopatra no doubt."

Not interested in the love story, Sam shrugged his shoulders.  "Let's go inside and see what's going on."

"I can tell you that," said Mrs. Steers.  "They are probably..."

Sam snapped.  "I'd rather see it instead of you telling me another story."

Mrs. Steers hung in mid-sentence.  Sam could tell she was both hurt and mad at his words.  He scrambled to apologize.

"Umm... I'm sorry, but don't you think if we're going to time-travel to these places, you would want me to actually see, just like you did."

Mrs. Steers, almost pouting, shook her head.  "I see your point.  I've been talking more than I should.  Sorry, Sam, I just overly protective of you since you are young and new to this."

Sam gave her a smile, trying to make light of the situation.  "I've read about this.  Cleopatra locked herself inside with all her gold and stuff to escape Octavian.  He's the guy who took over after Julius Caesar was murdered.   He was also the guy who wanted to capture Cleopatra and Mark Anthony.  But Mark Anthony stabbed himself."

Mrs. Steers stopped pouting and listened impressed by his knowledge.  Taking over as tour guide, Sam walked over to the marbled doors.

"Cleopatra was so upset over the death of Mark Anthony.  She supposedly let some kind of snake bite her and she died.  I don't remember what kind of snake."

"An asp," added Mrs. Steers.  "The snake was an asp."

"Yea, that's it.  I remember reading that's what they think she did, but they don't know for sure.   Now, they are trying to find out where she's buried."

With that cue, Mrs. Steers jumped in with an extra piece of information.  "There was a carved stone with the location of the final resting place of Cleopatra and Mark Anthony.   It's too bad the archeologists haven't stumbled across it yet, but maybe it didn't survive."

"So, you know where she is?"

"Yes, I do."

Sam's curious streak acted up. "Where?"

"Well, they are near to finding it, but..."  Stopping, Mrs. Steers noticed something in the distance behind Sam.

"And..." Sam waited patiently to hear.

"Sam, why don't we leave that for you to find out." Mrs. Steers patted him on the shoulder.

Sam's bubble burst.  "But now, I want to know!"

"It's alright, you'll see.  Now, why don't you go inside and see what's going on.  Good time for practice.  You go ahead and I'll catch up with you in a few minutes."

"OK." Sam spoke the migration spell.

Looking around, Sam gawked at the gaudy interior of the mausoleum. 

"Wow!  Look at this place.  They really like to paint stuff."

The walls were gold with hieroglyphs and figures.   Sam walked over and studied a few of the symbols, pondering what each could mean.  The limestone columns were painted, with scenes of Egypt, in deep blues, bright reds, and vibrant greens.   Low ivory-inlaid wooden chairs, short sofas, brass lamps emitting light, and silk pillows all formed a decorative scheme Sam couldn't have imagined.

"I can't believe they had all this stuff.  And these colors.  I always thought of Egypt as sandy and tan colored. And no furniture."  Sam walked over to one of the doors.  The brass handles glowed in the light.

Just as he reached to touch it, the doors flew open.   Before he gets out of the way, three women carrying Marc Anthony rushed through him and over to a sofa.   One of the women threw herself on him and started to kiss him.

Marc Anthony uttered one word.  "Cleopatra."

Sam understood that word.  He was looking at the great Queen of Egypt.   Kissing, hugging, and caressing each other, they continued to talk to each other in Latin.

Sam grimaced.  He didn't like seeing this level of affection.

Without notice, the room went dark.  All the burning lamps went out at one time.  Sam stood perfectly still, listening for any sounds.

The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 64 -- Fools!

With his hands firmly grasped the chair's arm, Dr. Herkeimer sat in his high-back chair, listening to Vincent's report about his assignment in New York City.  Dreda sat on the sofa, uninterested in the details as she thumbed through a fashion magazine.  Fan stood perfectly still.  His eyes moved from Vincent then the Doctor then back to Vincent.

Vincent rambled nervously.  "I watched from across the street but didn't really see anything from there.  Although I did watch the flower shop get a delivery of the most beautiful hydrangeas.    Wonderful colors..."

"I don't care about the damn flowers."  Dr. Herkeimer gritted his teeth, rolling his eyes.  With his patience waning, the Doctor became agitated.

"Did you learn anything important?" said Dreda, annoyed with Vincent's inability to convey simple information.

 "Well, I did speak to him in The Temple of Dendur while I was at the Metro..."

"What!" Dr. Herkeimer glared at him. "You were not to make contact!  You idiot!"

"Well, I...  I tried to pretend... I mean... He didn't know me... And so, I just pretended to study the Temple's walls and admire the... craftsmanship..."  Vincent began fidgeting nervously with his vest buttons.

Reaching his boiling point, the Doctor sprang up from his chair, nearly knocking it over backwards.  His face turned beet-red.  His fists clenched.

"Wait... Wait... Wait...  He did tell me something about time traveling and something about going to see... Ummm... Cleopatra... That's it.  Yes, they were going to see Cleopatra.  And then he talked about London..."  Vincent squinted trying to remember the entire conversation.

Dreda stood up, just as the Doctor started towards Vincent.  She placed her hand out to stop him.  The Doctor grabbed her arm, twisted it behind her, and tried to push her out of the way.  She held her ground.

Dreda quickly quizzed Vincent.  "What did you say about Cleopatra?"

Stumbling across his words, Vincent tried to recover his composure.  "He said they were going to see Cleopatra."

Releasing Dreda, Dr. Herkeimer formed a sinister grin formed. "Very good. Very good, Vincent.  You finally have made yourself useful." He returned to his seat.  "Fan's information about the boy's school assignments has proven to be useful after all.  Cleopatra's death may be what they want to see.  This boy seems to have a great love of mysteries."

"Dreda, plan a little trip.  Ancient Egypt.  Cleopatra.   Find them.  This may be our big chance. We may be able to succeed."  Dr. Herkeimer sat back and intertwined his fingers.  "We may be in luck this time.  I see torture in my future."

Vincent gasped at the word 'torture', putting his hands over his mouth.  Dreda eyed Fan then Vincent and stepped back out of the Doctor's view.  Having a moment of regret, she wished she hadn't questioned Vincent about Cleopatra.

Fan thought to himself.  No torture.  We do not torture children.  We torture no one.  You evil bastard.  The scars on his back ached from the mention of the word.

The Doctor shooed them away.  "Leave me so I can await the arrival of my guest.   I am very anxious to meet the dear Samuel Henry."

The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 63 -- Getting all Wrapped Up

Meanwhile, Sam found himself in a canvas tent with a dirt floor.  He was standing next to a table with the recently deceased Khufu on it.   Sam stepped closer to get a closer look at him. Sam pulled his notebook from his bag and scanned his notes.

"To become a mummy," Sam read aloud.  "The body is taking to an 'ibu' or a special tent. It was called 'the place of purification.' They wash the body with wine made from palm, then rinsed it with waters from the Nile."  Sam walked around the tent but stopped when two Egyptian men entered the tent.

One Egyptian had short hair and a scar on his cheek and was carried a huge clay jar.  The other was taller and bald and began pouring a sweet-smelling liquid into a basin.

The taller spoke in a language Sam didn't recognize.  Sam picked up one word -- Sabaf.  Sam wondered if that was the jar carrier's name, since the taller one used it several times while instructing him by pointing.

"I'm calling you 'Sabaf," said Sam pointing at one with the jar.  "I hope it doesn't mean something terrible."

Sabaf placed the huge clay jar on the sand floor at the end of the table where the body lay.   Sam stepped over to the opposite side of the table.  Sam watched as they began to wash the body of Khufu.  He spotted four jars with heads for lids standing in a row on a table. In front of the jars were primitive knifes and other surgical-looking instruments.

"Jars for the internal organs." Sam studied each one.  The heads had painted faces.  Sam had read about these and had taken notes.  Scanning his notes, he did roll-call. "Imsety, the god with a human head, you'll be in charge of the liver. Hapy with the baboon head, you'll house the lungs.  Duamutef, jackal head, your job is to take care of the stomach. And last, Qebehsenuef the falcon. It's your job to take care of the intestines."

The men had finished washing the body.  Sabaf carried another basin to Khufu and began to wash the body again. Sam watched as the liquid flowed to the end of the table and through an opening,trickling into a clay jar.   The taller Egyptian picked up a small metal knife from the table and made an incision on the side of Khufu's belly. Blood poured onto the table. Sabaf soaked up as much of it as possible with cloth and put it into the jar. Some blood flowed to the opening and dripped down.

Sam felt queasy as he watched him pull out Khufu's internal organs. First came what looked like a liver, then what looked like a kidney. He gagged twice and finally dry heaved.  Sam rolled and closed his eyes and counted to ten.  Digging into his bag, Sam pulled out the bottle of menthol and rubbed some under his nose.

"How do I always choose something disgusting to see..."

Sabaf laid each of the organs on individual plates, before placing them on a table near an opening in the tent.

Sam read from his notes.  "They leave the heart. Then with a long metal hook, they..." He stopped mid-sentence just in time to see the bald Egyptian pull a long metal hook out of Khufu's nose with a bloody mass hooked onto its end. It was Khufu's brain.

"I.. think... I'm... going to be sick..."  Sam turned away, trying to calm his stomach.  "Once again, here I am.  A dead body again.  Bloody body parts.  Next time... No dead bodies...  I need to choose some better times to visit."

Right in the middle of note taking, Mrs. Steers shouted out.  "Sam?  Are you here?"

"Yes, Mrs. Steers.  I'm in here."

Mrs Steers walked into the tent.  "Well, I see you found Khufu.  Looks like he's about ready for the rest of the process.  I've seen this before.  Not with Khufu, but with other mummifications.   It's such an interesting process."

Mrs. Steers began her now usual tourist guide oration.

"You see, the body will be stuffed with natron which is a type of salt.  All the body fluids and rags used in the process will be saved and buried with the body.   The body will be kept for about seventy days, washed with water from the Nile again, and covered with oil to help keep the skin elastic."  Mrs. Steers walked over to the table and looked down at the internal organs.

"The dehydrated organs not going in the jars will be wrapped in linen and returned to the body. They'll stuff him with sawdust, leaves, and linen, then coat him again with good-smelling oil."

Sam was grossed out, but Mrs. Steers took no notice and rattled on.

"Wrapping the body starts with the head and the neck, then the fingers and toes.  The arms are wrapped next and amulets, such as an Isis knot and plummet, are put in place to protect the body.   During the wrapping process, a priest reads spells out loud to ward off evil spirits and help the deceased’s journey to the afterlife.  The arms and legs are tied together with a papyrus scroll, with spells from the Book of the Dead placed between the hands."

Sam stopped her to ask a question.  "The Book of the Dead? What's that all about."

"The Book of the Dead was an ancient Egyptian funerary text.  A book of spells to help the deceased in the afterlife."  Mrs. Steers returned to the mummification process.

"Then the entire body is wrapped and painted with liquid resin to hold the bandages together.    Lastly, a cloth painted with images of the gods and hieroglyphs is placed around the body.  The body is then placed on display, then into a sarcophagus then taken to the tomb.  Personal belongings, furniture, food and drink are placed in the tomb for the deceased’s journey."

Mrs. Steers stopped.  Sam was relieved.  "Let's get out of here.  I'm tired of dead bodies."  Sam took one last look at Khufu's body.   "Poor guy.  He's still has to be stuffed."

They left the tent.  Outside, the whole area was busy with activity.  Sam watched a group of carpenters working on a mummy case.

"Mrs. Steers, check this out."  Sam pointed at the elaborate mummy case.  "It must be for Khufu.  It's got a lot of symbols and stuff.  These guys really know what they're doing."

"Very much," said Mrs. Steers.  "Egyptian culture was highly advanced.   Eventually the Romans would conquer the country.  Alexandria would be one of their ports.  Did you know that Egypt at one time had one of the greatest libraries in the world there? According to the history of the club, the original papyrus scrolls of the incantations were housed in a special chamber in the Library of Alexandria.  We've tried to find the chamber but with no luck."

"Why don't you use the incantation to find it?"

Mrs. Steers shook her head.  "Can't be done.  We do know that the scroll and the books have incantations on them making it impossible for them to be located.  That's why Dr. Herkeimer or one of his spies are watching us."

Sam was intrigued, then realized something.  "You know that night we got back from New York City and someone had been in our apartment, I remember seeing someone in the park across the street.  Do you think..."

Before he had a chance to finish, she answered him.  "Yes.  It was probably one of them.   I didn't want to arouse suspicion with your Mom, so I didn't say anything."

"They were looking for the books?"

"Probably."

Mrs. Steers didn't look at Sam.   Without him being aware, she was focusing on something in the distance.  For a moment, among the crowd, she swore she had seen Bruno and Dreda.  She didn't want to alarm Sam, but knew it was time to move on.

"Let's go see Cleopatra," said Mrs. Steers.  "What date did she die?"

Excited that he finally will get to see Cleopatra, Sam thumbed through his notebook.  "Ummm... August 9th... in 30 BC."

Taking his arm, she said.  "Tolle mihi videre Alexandria on August 9th, 30 B.C. at 3 o'clock in the afternoon."

Seconds later, they stood in the heat of an Egyptian summer sun.

The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 62 -- The Report

Still in Ancient Egypt, near the building of the Pyramids, Mrs. Steers pulled out a small notepad from her bag.  After scribbling a note, she folded it and whispered an incantation.  The paper fizzed and disappeared.  Mrs. Steers then began to pace back and forth.

"Alright, I just sent you a note that I would be here."  Mrs. Steers said patiently, scanning the workers.  "Come on.  Come on.  I can't let Sam be alone for too long." Sam has disappeared to see Khufu being mummified.

A couple of minutes passed before Rufus Leightstone appeared in front of two workman who walked right though him.  Grimacing, he paused a moment, before brushing off his tweed jacket and the front of his matching pants as if to rid himself of dust.

"Ah ha," said Mrs. Steers.  "There you are."

Looking up, Leightstone waved.  "My dear Mrs. Steers.  So good to see you."

Rufus Leightstone was just a little taller than she was.   His thinning grey hair fluttered in the breeze.  "I should have worn a hat.  My hair will be a mess."

Mrs. Steers chuckled, noticing that there wasn’t enough hair to be messed.

"Well, as the head of the International Council of the Time Savers Clubs, I want to be the first to congratulate you on your research.   We were very impressed."  The Council consisted of five members.  They oversaw all the chapters of the club, as well as organized the annual convention.

Regally, Leightstone shook her hand, very much old school in manners and demeanor.

"Thank you," said Mrs. Steers.  "I'm glad to hear that.   So, I am positive that Sam is the one.   I have gone over the genealogy numerous times."

"The entire council commends you on your research.  Putting all the clues together must have taken years.  We agree with your findings. If not, we are in deep trouble.  How's his education?  Are you teaching him the incantations?"

"Oh yes, he's magnificent.   On the third try of the basic travel incantation, we were here.  No issues."

"Really!"  Leightstone was flabbergasted.  "On the third.   That's very impressive."

"His orb.   Pure white."

Leightstone stared at her.  "Really."  His voice was quiet.

"Yes."  Mrs. Steers nodded.

"Pure white.  Not just close to white, but pure white."

Mrs. Steers nodded again.  "Sorry, we didn't learn that until after I sent you my report."

Leightstone shook his head.  "It's important and adds to your research, but at this point, the Council is convinced.   We've read enough to agree with your findings."

Leightstone pulled out an envelope from his jacket pocket. "Here's our response back to you.  It's basically what I just told you.   We have also called a special meeting of the Council to discuss what to do next.   There's much we can do, but we must agree."

Mrs. Steers took the envelope and put it in her bag.  "When is it?"

"Next week.  Can you come?"  Leightstone scratched his head.  "The Council has agreed to only meet with the East and West Coast Chapters at this time.   Only the heads of the other clubs will be attending.  We may have to invite everyone.  It may be an unexpected convention."

"What's the membership?  About 100, isn't it?"

"Last time I checked 112.  Two new members in the West Coast chapter."

Mrs. Steers smiled wide.   Her eyes lit up with excitement.  "Yes, I know.  I got to meet one of them that last time I was here.  It was the pink sunglasses that have him away."

Leightstone nodded. "I wondered if you would."   He walked over to a large stone being prepared to be moved up the ramp to the top level of the Pyramid.

Mrs. Steers walked over and stood next to him.  "Amazing construction.  Just amazing.  How they ever came to build this is beyond me."

"And now we stand on a new threshold ourselves.   What does it all mean?   We've found an heir that we can say for sure is going to change our club.  Would the world be able to handle this information if they knew we existed?"

Mrs. Steers shook her head.  "Just think of Dr. Herkeimer.  All it takes is one very convincing man to put everything in jeopardy.  One mad man..."  Her voice trailed off.

Leightstone drew in a long breath.  "I've got to go.  A lot of organizing to do.  We've got to plan."

"And I've got to find Sam.  He's practicing his incantations."  Mrs. Steers shook his hand and he was gone.  "And now off to see what Sam's found."