"I should love it if you did! Here are all the documents you requested. Salim will guide Karlheinz to one of my father's tobacco plantations so that he may store the aircraft. No one will know you arrived in Cairo or indeed entered Egypt, it will be like you vanished over the Mediterranean."

He handed over the passports, which were genuine documents with all the proper visa stamps but in false names.

That evening, the sun began to set over the rocky desert west of the port town of Sollum, near the border of Italian Libya. The feluccas of local fishermen bobbed out on the wide semi-circular Bay of Sollum.

The newly-painted coastal steamer from Sollum was tied up at the pier, belching wmoke as its boiler built up a head of steam. Crowds of Egyptians struggled to board, herds of animals were swarming in and out of baggage carriers. The smells of fried and cooked foods from dozens of stalls and carts mingled with the soot of the ship's stacks and a haze of tobacco smoke. Entertainers with trained animals plied their trade, as did thieves and pickpockets.

"All aboard, Sollum to Alexandria. Have your tickets and papers ready."

The mass of passengers struggling to board were stratified according to class. Ordinary Egyptians travelled in cramped cabins with wood bench seats. Professionals, merchants and the odd army officer relaxed in private cabins, salon or upper decks. Berber and Bedouin tribesmen sailed in steerage or on the lower decks with the livestock. Ankle-length robes, western suits, bowler hats and/or kheffiyas adorned the men, the women wore chadors (robes) and hijabs (head scarves), those of higher station's faces were covered by the niqab (veil), leaving only an eye slit.

There was a smaller, more luxurious boat tied up a ways down the jetty, a private yacht. This was to be their transport.

Alexander had arranged for private berths for the party, as it would be a 2 day sailing "This way, please," said the purser, porters carrying bags in tow. Many pounds must have changed hands as their boarding of the yacht was up a gangway far away from the mass of passengers and cargo being shipped aboard the coastal steamer, and went largely unnoticed.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:19, Sat 21 Dec 2013.

Cynthia delights in the opportunity to wear her new, flowing cotton dresses and summer-time jackets. It had simply been too cold in France and Italy to put them to proper use. But here even that feels like a layer too much. "I don't suppose the yacht will have bathing facilities, will it? An hour in a cool bath would be perfect."

As the cars near the port, Cynthia requests the driver take the long way around. "This heat is far more than I'm accustomed to, and I feel absolutely bedragged and inappropriate for public show. I would prefer to be seen by as few people as absolutely possible, even if it requires delaying a bit to avoid the crowds. Is that possible?"

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 395):

Molly looked around with interest and, truth be told, a little trepidation.  Another new place to explore and more dangers around every corner.

"It would be nice to soak in a nice cool bath right now.  We can only hope.."

JM savored the cigar. "Quite a nice tobacco Count.  Where did you acquire these cigars?"  He nods to Alexander.  "Your offer of assistance is quite generous Alexander.  We are very grateful to you for your work and preparations."

He boards the yacht with the others.  "This is a far nicer way to travel than crowded on the steamer."  JM smiled at the ladies.  "A yacht might have a tub but I would not count on it.  Water would tend to slosh about under any degree of seas but then the wealthy often do not care so much for those type of details.  A shower is more practical."

"Port Out, Starboard Home? Well, I'm going home at least, that's for sure!"


Alexander laughed, sharing a cigar on the deck of his family yacht as they cast off into the cool Mediterranean evening. "The bar is well-stocked. I'd join you, but Islam forbids it. Please, help yourself. Youssef is a competent bartender. He tended bar for a time at the Raffles hotel in Singapore, you know."
This message was last updated by the GM at 09:37, Sun 29 Dec 2013.

The yacht Fatima weighed anchor, motors thumping as smoke belched from her stack. There was a wireless aboard but this set could only receive, not send.

Their trip would take a couple days along the coast as Alexander did not plan on stopping to sightsee. Not that there was much to see aside from ancient ruins and the odd dirty fishing town.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 399):

Molly nodded to John-Marc.  "You are no doubt right sir.  Some of the most pleasant things are often impractical.  Hopefully this part of the trip will do much to calm the nerves and steel us again for whatever fight we must face upon landing and continuing our research."

"Your hospitality is unmatched as usual Alexander.  We would be lost without your arrangements." JM savored the cigar.  "Should we try to dock at Cairo in the evening and head to your home under cover of darkness Alexander?  It might allow us to draw less attention."

He smiled and nodded to Molly.  "We have at least a few days aboard this pleasant yacht with good company and peace and quiet.  I expect this will be somewhat of the calm before the next storm."  He motioned with his head toward the cabin.  "Could I offer you a drink miss Mungo?"

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 401):

Molly smiled up at John-Marc.  "Why thank you John-Marc.  That would be delightful but only if you drink with me.  I don't like to drink alone."

JM smiled and opened the door to the main cabin where the bar was arrayed.  "I wouldn't dream of letting a lovely lady drink alone.  It would be quite a shame."  He headed to the bar and waved over the bar tender.  "A gin and tonic perhaps miss Mungo?" He lowered his voice.  "I am most impressed with your courage and raw guts.  You handled yourself back in London with the very best of them."

The Count was just exiting his cabin on the yacht and ascending to the deck when he spotted Mr Perkins ahead of him. Exiting together the Count walked towards Mr Falcon and Ms Fuller and joined them.

"Lovely way to arrive. The breeze is so refreshing in this heat.

He was dressed in a white linen suit, yellow silk waistcoat and wore one of his new panama hats on his head. It was the larger plantation style and matched his suit perfectly.

He ordered a mint julep and took a seat.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:16, Mon 30 Dec 2013.

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 403):

Molly was on familiar ground again.  A drink in her hand and a handsome man by her side.  She smiled and nodded to the barkeep when John-Marc suggested a gin and tonic.  Her smile faded somewhat when John-Marc praised her.

She leaned forward towards John-Marc and whispered low so that the barkeep couldn't overhear them.  "I'm afraid that you give me too much credit sir.  I was terrified but in a situation where I didn't have much choice.  Did you really think I look brave?"

Molly looked up at John-Marc with the question in her eyes as well as a little bit of hope.

JM took a pair of glasses half full of gin and tonic with a few cubes of ice and a nice wedge of lime.  He holds one up to Molly and takes the other.  He turned slightly as she whispered to him to provide them more privacy.  He couldn't help but catch a whiff of her perfume and smiled slightly at the fresh scent.  Riasing the glass toward her in a combination toast and salute he turned serious.  "I think you were terribly brave, as brave as anyone else in the group.  Even when you don't think you have a choice there is always the choice to go through with things bravely or paralyzed with fear.  And just because you are afraid doesn't mean you are a coward."  He smiled now and tipped his glass against hers before taking a sip.  "You looked brave and beautiful in the midst of the chaos."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 406):

Molly blushed and sat up a little straighter.  "Oh well.  As long as I looked beautiful while doing so then who am I to argue."  She clinked her glass against his and sipped it.  Her flippant remark showed that she was semi back to her normal self.  Of course it was Molly who was here and she wasn't half as brave as Mungo was.  She did mouth "thank you" to John-Marc and looked over her glass at him.

"Tell me sir, how do you distract a lady when she doesn't want to think too much?  How do you turn off thinking?"

Their vessel was the HMY Fatima, a steel-hulled 2-masted steam yacht. The sails were functional but largely ornamental; the days were long gone where ships that had both sails and steam would mainly sail in order to conserve coal. Inside, it was luxurious and the passengers were afforded private cabins. They were currently in the salon located at the aft end of the ship.


They noted that the steam engine was much quieter than a petrol engine, although there was a telltale plume of grey smoke from the stack.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:30, Mon 30 Dec 2013.

As they sailed, Dr. Weston continued his studies. Taking a break, he joined Cynthia in the salon.

"Miss Holloway, pardon me for asking. Did you learn anything about the statues? The mirror? Those scrolls?"

JM smiled as they clinked glasses.  "Oh always on top of it Miss Mungo."  He chuckled as she joked back at him.  He sipped his drink and taking a chance laid his hand over hers lightly. "Now that task is one that I would gladly shoulder Miss Mungo.  I would treat her to a drink or two, turn on the music and dance a bit.  Then out on the deck of the ship in the evening and look at the stars and moon."  He grew a bit more serious.  "During the War I found the best approach was the company of friends and human companionship.  A lot of men sought the company of women.  There is a certain... satisfaction in the act which is mindless and calming but the human warmth and comfort, even for only the night is what most really sought."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 410):

Molly smiled and nodded at John-Marc.  "It was terrible what people had to go through during the war so it makes sense that companionship was sought out.  The lines at the clubs for just a dance with another human being were always long.  If for just one night the war could be pushed back out of the mind and everybody is reminded that humanity is our salvation.  We are a species that wants to be sociable and we crave the human touch at times."

Molly shook her head to clear it.  "Oh my!  Just look what deep thoughts you have me thinking John-Marc.  Keep this up and my uncle will take me out of the society pages and send me away for thinking...something a female isn't suppose to necessarily do."

John-Marc knew enough about Molly and her background by now to know that there was little chance her uncle didn't like an independent thinking woman...otherwise Molly wouldn't be sent out on missions assignments.

"Oh yes, a few findings. I also did some research on the painting we saw, since it seems we'll be in the area soon.

"The artist's "mother" is a serpent man, well, woman. They worshiped some other god, so I don't know why she was involved with this whole thing. I wonder if perhaps the cult isn't responsible for killing her. She clearly was not too careful about controlling information. In fact, perhaps we're the ones who led the cult to her. I don't feel any particular sympathy for her, and I know this isn't what you asked. Just speculating.

"The figure in the painting is called the "Bloody Tongue". The mountain is in Kenya. Soo ... I guess nothing we didn't already know there.

"The bluestone statuette of the man-bat thing is called a 'great one'. I don't know how to pronounce the name. Chu-lu? Thu-lu? The translation could be better. ANYWAY, he, or it, lives in a sunken city called R'lyeh. It's a fascinating myth. I can only imagine how they reached it, although the myths of the Hindoos also test the imagination. Their myth just happens to be ... a little more life-affirming. A lot more life-affirming. I prefer their story, is my point. I couldn't find anything connecting him with Africa. R'lyeh is sunk in an ocean, or at best a lake. Lake Victoria? I don't know, I'm guessing. The statue is supposed to give power to anyone who is trying to cast spells. Probably best to destroy it once we're done documenting it for our needs.

"The big brass statue is the "Bloated Woman". I think that's the same as the "Bloody Tongue" character, so probably we'll be seeing more of her soon. The statue is handy for casting spells or trying to contact her. I don't know if we want to use that in this particular quest. I think I'd prefer not.

"I didn't research the scrolls any more. I can't read most of the languages."

JM sipped his drink and placed the empty glass back down on the bar and motioned to the bar tender for another.  For a moment he thought back to the days of the Great War and his time in Belgium.  At least as a pilot he had been spared the worst horrors of the trenches.  Still... it was best to move on from those horrors as well.  "As long as we hold close to each other we stand a chance in this world.  Despite the horrors of the war and what we have seen so far I believe that we... humanity have in our power to overcome."  Shifting mental gears JM smiled at the vivacious woman next to him.  "Oh, I can't imagine you in anything but the thick of the action Miss Mungo.  You have too much energy and courage for anything else." 

He paused.  "May I call you Molly?"

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 413):

Molly smiled and blushed.  "Of course you can John-Marc.  Oh it's not me who gets into the thick of things.  I may call you John-Marc?  I'm afraid that I have been thinking and taking the liberty of using your first name for awhile now without actually asking.  Do forgive me?  Anyway, it is more of a Mungo personality that gets into trouble."

Molly looked down for a bit and then up again to meet John-Marc's eyes.  "You see, Molly is the dutiful niece who would be quite content to stay at home.  She might dream of doing all of these things but she doesn't think she is capable.  I was told at an early age that we can do anything.  These last few months might have proven that saying right but in order to be the brave person to investigate things?  Well that takes an alter ego at times and that alter ego is Mungo.  Not an elegant name but a suitable one.  Mungo isn't afraid of anything except perhaps of being silenced and stay at home forever with no more adventures.  In this changing world I think it takes both types of personalities to move forward.  I like to think of myself as the liaison between the past and the future."

She looked down again and muttered, "I suppose this is just silly nonsense if not borderline breakdown speak to you.  It is to most people.  All I know is that I can do some of the things by saving Molly in the back of my mind when I need to.  With her there I can be Mungo and face dragons and demons."

Molly decided she had blabbered enough and took another sip of her drink.

JM smiled.  "Why thank you Molly, it's so much nicer to use your given name.  And please... feel free to call me John-Marc.  I am glad that you feel comfortable enough around me to use a more relaxed address." he cocked his head in curiosity as she spoke of her 'Mungo' personality and then nodded as he listened with interest.

He shook his head slightly and tightened his grip on her hand for a moment in encouragement.  "No, I understand how you are thinking and I like it.  It is a good way to encourage yourself when there is no one else around to provide the support.  As a woman in a career such as you have chosen you need all the encouragement you can manage.  I admire your courage."

He raised his glass;  "To Molly and to Mungo, may they both be successful and famous." He smiled again. "And what would Mungo do in a situation like this Molly?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:13, Sat 04 Jan 2014.

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 412):

Dr. Weston poured himself a scotch-and-soda.

"For a Muslim, our host has a gratifyingly well-stocked bar.

"So we have the bloody, er, Bloody Tongue. And a Bloated Woman. And this... Cuthulhu? Katooloo? Whatever. And the Dark Pharaoh. Two of these, at least, are associated with Africa.

"Regarding the scrolls, I don't necessarily mean you reading them, because if you lack the facility with a given language it's a given you can't. But there might be other notes and addenda in those tomes."

In reply to Doctor Phillip Weston (msg # 416):

Alexander smiled and nodded his head at the compliment.

"A host must remain gracious and generous."