Mysterious Cairo (21 page)

"You heard me,
speed up.
If we can't stop at the crossing, maybe we can beat the train to it."

Gritting her teeth, Corey floored the accelerator. Kayla, unaccustomed to cars, was thrown back into her seat, where she cursed technology yet again.

The roadster's front tires hit the road part of the crossing just as a large steam engine began puffing its way onto the crossing tracks. Corey looked to her left and saw that the locomotive's "face" took up the whole view from her window.

The rear wheels of the roadster cleared the last rail just as the engine passed by. Unfortunately, the engine struck the protruding trunk of the car, causing the vehicle fishtail wildly. Everyone in the car except for Havoc screamed as the car spun around several times, finally coming to a halt in a large pile of trash put out on the curb from an eating establishment.

"Well done," Havoc announced, as he brushed himself off and leaped out of the car with a flourish. "Everyone out, we have some clues and leads to hunt down. Besides, the local authorities will be here to investigate this accident soon enough." He stopped talking as he noticed that no one was following him. "Well? Come on!" he snapped.

Corey shot him an icy look of disbelief. "Well
excuse us!
Some of us are trying to catch our breath! We almost got killed back there!"

"The key word is 'almost,'" Havoc muttered as he began walking. "Fact is, you didn't die. But cheer up. We've only just started."

"But what about your vehicle?" Daremo asked as he left the car and helped Kayla out.

"It's not my car," Havoc shrugged as he began walking down an alleyway.

"Whose
is
it?" asked Corey, certain that she would not like the answer.

Havoc made a dismissing gesture. "Some local gangsters were going to use it for a heist. This way I was able to put a temporary stop to their plans, and get myself the transportation I needed."

The fivesome trotted through the garbage strewn alley. At its other end, a young Arab boy, clad only in baggy pants and a baseball cap, was soliciting shoe shines. The boy stopped when he saw Major Havoc and his group.

"Heya, Mister Havoc! How's tricks?" the boy asked as he gave Havoc a wink.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is 'Swifty Abdul,' the best shoeshine boy in Cairo." Major Havoc put his left shoe on the box — the foot that almost got run over by the shocktrooper truck — and Abdul got to work. "So, Swifty, what's the dope?"

"Word on the street is dat Big Boy Bedouinsky is gonna make a hit against a rival gang's watering hole. No other details."

"What about Mobius and his goons?" Havoc pressed.

"Naaah. Mobius ain't doin' nothin' big in Cairo dese days!"

After a bit more small talk, Havoc paid Abdul and led the group out the alley and onto another major boulevard. The buildings were a curious mix of Art Deco, Arabic, and late 1930's western and European architecture. The sidewalks were teeming with people, many in dapper black pin-striped suits, or white suits and red fezes. Robed Arabs mixed freely with khaki-clad professors and archaeologists. Occasionally, an edeinos, dwarf, or cyberknight could be seen. Normal street cars, at least by Corey's standards, competed with roadsters for the right of way. Newsboys on the street corners hawked their papers.

"Our next stop for information is a fellow named Benny the Rat," Havoc explained. "A word of warning: he's repulsive."

Daremo increased his pace until he was beside Havoc. "Major, are you one of the Mystery Men?" the ninja asked quietly. Havoc nodded. "Well, isn't Mobius after any Mystery Men that he can find? Aren't you being a little too conspicuous?"

"Nope. My clothing is not too far removed from the average Cairene, and as far as Mobius is concerned, he is rather cocky and arrogant. As for the small fry ... well, my costume isn't similar to the Whisper's for nothing."

Meeting a blank stare, Havoc continued, "Mobius thinks that as long as Storm Knights congregate in Cairo, for instance, he knows where they are and can have them watched. So, much of 'greater' Cairo is actually very tolerant of cross-cosmers, as long as they don't stir up trouble. Just don't stray into the wrong areas." Havoc stopped in front of a tattoo parlor. "This is Benny's place."

Kayla's nostrils flared in disgust at the smells of sweat, tobacco and incense in the dark little shop. She was even more disgusted when she saw the short, fat man in a rumpled white suit, a red fez perched on his greased-back black hair. His breathing was loud and raspy, and he leered at the barbarian, something Kayla found annoying.

"Good day, Major Havoc," Benny said in a wheezy whine. "Have you and your friends come for a tattoo?" He stared even more at Kayla, which only made her angrier.

"You know very well why I'm here, Benny. What's Mobius up to these days? And don't try to con me!"

The little man's rat-like eyes darted back and forth. "Mobius is working on something. It involves sphinxes. It will help him increase his power. Oh, yes! Also, the Scarlet Asp is back in town!" His leer never wavered from Kayla. Her patience dissolved faster.

Havoc stiffened at the last sentence. "Okay, Benny. Thanks. Let's go, folks." Daremo noticed Havoc's body language, but said nothing.

"Perhaps next time, you can introduce me to your friends so that we may become . better acquainted," Benny wheezed, his eyes never leaving Kayla.

The barbarian's patience was exhausted. In one fluid motion, she darted over to Benny, grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket, and raised him several feet off the floor. "Now listen to me, you little toad," she growled. "I know that look you have been giving me. It is the look of a coyote as it is about to attack a rabbit. But this rabbit has claws, and a very,
very
sharp sword. If I catch you giving that look to me or any other woman, I shall take that sword and gut you!" She dropped the sweating Benny, spun on her heel, and left the shop.

"Major, no disrespect intended, but you should restrain your friends a bit more," Benny wheezed, getting up and brushing himself off.

"She's not my friend. I can't control her behavior. We only met an hour ago," Havoc replied as he, too, spun around, and, with a flourish of his cloak, left the store, followed by Corey, Marcel, and Daremo.

"You gotta write down what you said to that cut-rate Peter Lorre impersonator," Corey whispered to Kayla. "I'll use it at the next dance club I go to in New York ... if it ever returns to normal."

Kayla shrugged, a look of puzzlement on her face. "I did not understand most of what you said, but I shall do as you ask."

"Is anyone hungry? Another of my leads is a waitress at this great diner," Havoc offered.

Kayla remembered a couple of Core Earth foods she had grown to love. "Do they have hum-boogas and kah-fee?" she asked hopefully.

"Hamburgers and coffee? The best in Cairo," Havoc announced. "C'mon."

The Doctor's Diner was a gleaming, stainless steel structure with formica counters, padded booths, and glass cases displaying pies. Hard-hat construction workers ate next to Egyptian engineers, laborers, and mathematicians. The Knights selected a booth, and within minutes were feeding, though Daremo was rather disappointed that they did not have sushi, and had to settle for tuna salad instead. Kayla, on the other hand, was in Heaven.

Eventually, the waitress who had served them sauntered up to the table, chewing gum loudly. "So, Mayj, anything else I can get ya?"

Havoc leaned closer to the heavily made-up, bleach-blonde woman. "Yeah, Roz, what's the chatter about lately? Any special projects?"

"Well, a lotta the guys have been working on something out at Geezer."

"Giza," Corey corrected her.

"
T'anks
, sweetie," Roz replied, insincerely. "Anyways, it has sumtin' ta do wit' da Stinks, Finks, or sumtin'."

Corey gritted her teeth and winced. "That's
Sphinx,"
she muttered.

"Yeah, yeah.
Whatevah!"
Roz snarled, then lowered her voice and whispered to Havoc. "Hey, Mayj, about dat leather clad goil sittin' witcha. What's her story? She's packed away five burgers wit' all da fixins!"

"Tapeworm," Havoc deadpanned. After Roz left, Havoc rose. "Come on, folks. Time for the last stop. Club Ptah. Brace yourselves. You're in for a treat."

The party left the diner, unaware of the two men in Fedora hats and pin-striped suits who began tailing them.

Club Ptah was a short walk from the diner, the building's gaudy Egyptian facade making it stand out from the rest of the block. The five Knights walked in, their eyes slowly adjusting to the dim interior lighting. A haze of smoke hung in the air, as a jukebox blared the swing tunes of Terra's most popular musicians, Benny Bigtone and Glenn Riteman. Ceiling fans twirled lazily, keeping the air circulated.

Upon Daremo's recommendation, the Knights chose a table in the far corner, facing the front door. Once seated, Corey surveyed her surroundings. A pack of six Ayslish dwarves sat at the bar drinking heavily and talking loudly, obviously inconveniencing the nearby pair of off-duty shock troopers, and quartet of Victorian soldiers. A cyberpriest sat at a table, flanked by a pair of dour Hospitallers. An Orrorshan gypsy woman of great beauty was giving tarot readings at her table. Two edeinos sat on the floor, pouring their drinks on their skin and reveling in the sensation, while a stalenger was making a pass at a ceiling fan. A middle-aged Oriental man in a fine suit and sunglasses sat at a corner table, a small bottle of
sake
at easy reach. A group of six men and women, dressed in normal twentieth century garb and all wearing sunglasses, sat staring at Corey and her group.

"Spartans," Corey muttered in contempt, looking at the latter customers.

"By the way, the Japanese gentleman probably has two bodyguards we cannot see," Daremo advised. "Probably ninja in the shadows."

"Do not start trouble," the Major whispered, "Club Ptah is one of the few good clubs cross-cosmers are allowed into. Do not bring old conflicts inside."

A man in a fire engine red bodysuit ambled over to the Knights' table. His face was obscured by a helmet with a two foot high point, which resembled the nosecone of a missile.

"Oh, no ." Havoc moaned.

"Hey, Major Havoc! Long time no see, pal!" the stranger gushed as he pumped Havoc's hand.

"Yeah. Everyone, this is the hero Destructo Don . Don, this is . everyone," Havoc muttered his halfhearted introductions.

"Nice to meet you all! Hey, Major, did you know that the Scarlet Asp is in town?"

Havoc's attention perked up. "Oh really? Where?"

"East of Cairo," Destructo Don replied, obviously delighted to be helping Havoc. "City of the Dead. She's been hanging out at a newly built Temple of Wadjet. Well, gotta run! I'm due to join Particle Man and Universe Man in their hunt for Chesspiece Face and Triangle Man! Keep 'em flying, everyone!" Don turned, and with a skip in his step, returned to his table.

Corey stared at the man until he was lost in the crowd. "Major, who the heck was that?"

"A would-be Mystery Man named Destructo Don. He means well, but he is a bit . er . unpolished. Still, he wanted to help, so he emigrated with us from Terra."

"What are his powers?" Daremo asked, intrigued.

"You don't want to know that," Havoc shook his head.

"Well, anyway," Corey smiled, "We've finally settled down a bit! All of that rushing about, it's good to finally relax."

A waitress clad in pseudo-Egyptian style took their orders and brought them their drinks. Daremo was quite surprised that the club actually carried
saki,
Japanese rice wine.

"Big Looie, the guy who owns this club, has mob connections, including the Black Market," Havoc explained. "This is how he can get his hands on booze from so many different places and realms."

"Well, I haven't had a Molson in weeks," Corey replied as she took a long swig from her bottle. "Looie has my gratitude. This is a pretty cool place."

"Think so?" Havoc replied. "Take a look around you, Miss Jones. You've got folks and other beasties from many different places. Each has his own ideas, powers, beliefs, and agendas. Put them all together in one room, add alcohol, and you have ." he let his voice trail off.

"A good place for a fight," Kayla finished, then drained her tankard of Ayslish ale. Havoc downed his "near beer" and nodded emphatically.

"But while we're here, it would be good to find out what your stories are," Havoc suggested. There was silence at the table as the Knights exchanged glances.

"I am Marcel Berge, and I hail from Magna Verita," the former Hospitaller began at last. "I served his 'holiness' Jean Malraux as a Hospitaller. When he introduced cybernetics, I offered myself up to it. When I came to this planet, I was assigned unsavory duties such as burning heretics and their books. By chance, I picked one up, and 'twas the Bible of this planet. Its Gospels touched me deeply, and I realized that in that book was the way to God, not the blasphemies of Malraux. So, I left, and now I run for my very life from the dark forces of the anti-pope."

Daremo had listened to the story with his fingers steepled over his face, head bowed. "Though I have a name, I am called Daremo, which is Japanese for 'nobody,'" the ninja began. "I served Kanawa Corporation as a freelance . troubleshooter."