Catfantastic: Nine Lives and Fifteen Tales Part 27

The tomb gaped at the other horn of the crescent. A less grisly object of study, more worthy of his scientific attention, he decided. He could hardly be expected to a.s.sist Dr. Mercer with her problem, whatever it was, before he had made a survey of the site.

He wafted inside, past the guard, whose head lolled at an angle that looked most uncomfortable to Shuttle, who was himself an expert on comfort.

The tomb was set in the side of a hill. Inside was a downward sloping path. The interior was not as elaborate as the tombs of pharoahs, but quite commodious enough for the dead. Shuttle tried to b.u.mp the tops off the decorated chests with his head but found his hardest b.u.t.ts made no impact. He stood on his hind paws and put his front ones on the lips of urns, sniffing the lids for oils, perfumes, or entrails. The odors were strong enough even after so many decades to cause him to curl his lips back over the scent glands at the side of his mouth, as a highborn person might curl theirs in distaste.

His paws made' no sound on the tiles beneath them, across which grains of sand bounced and skittered like frightened insects, of which there were also a few. He disdainfully ignored them in the interests of science.

The top of one of the jars had been removed and Shuttle was thrusting his head into its mouth when he heard the sc.r.a.pe, the slither, and the shuffling noise. He froze, suspended by his chin and front paws, as a whisper of chill seeped through the desert warmth that had formerly permeated the open tomb.

And over the sc.r.a.pe, slither, shuffle, the sad mewling cried out within him once more. He shot out of the tomb so quickly that he almost tangled in the bandages of the figure limping relentlessly toward Bill Parsons' tent. This further alarmed him so that he thrust himself across the remaining distance, through tent and mosquito net, to land on top of Dr. Mercer's waist, between her rib cage and her hip, where he dug in so hard that had he had the foresight to bring his body with him she would have borne his mark for weeks.

It would serve her right, too. What was wrong with their nice flat and her teaching position that she had to leave him in the care of Monica Thomas to come to this horrid place? He trembled like a brown leaf in a high wind, huddling next to Dr. Mercer. That awful mewling! How could she be deaf to it?

But suddenly another sound touched his flattened ears. Low and strangled, gargling and full of loathing fear, and then, cut to dead silence. The silence lasted only a moment before Shuttle's sensitive ears detected the slow scraape, slither, shuffle, sc.r.a.pe, slither, shuffle, sc.r.a.pe, slitherr, shufffle, scraaape, slitherr! shuffleSLUMP, Sc.r.a.pE, SLITHER, SHUFFLE, DRAG! and the dusty stench of the collection of moldering bandages was within the tent, its hands clawed toward the mosquito netting, ready to dispatch Dr. Mercer as it had no doubt already dispatched Bill Parsons and who knew how many others? Dr. Mercer stirred and mumbled in her sleep, and half wakened to the mummy's presence, as she had not to Shuttle's. She began to leak that strangled cry.

That was too much for Shuttle. Mummy's curse, for it was obviously the manifestation of that phenomenon that had haunted at least two other excavations that was now attempting to claim his own colleagues, was all very well. He himself was sometimes cranky when awakened from a long nap. But this tent was Shuttle's territory and Dr. Mercer was his companion. Ears flat, fur bristling, fangs bared, claws unsheathed and body four times its normal size, Shuttle launched himself through the mosquito netting at the bandaged apparition, ready to rend it bandage from bandage.

The necessity did not arise. Murderous the mummy might be, but it was an exceptionally well-brought-up spook, nevertheless. Being a supernatural sort, it at once perceived Shuttle and his displeasure, and fell to the ground in a gesture of submission and humility Shuttle recognized from the reproductions of scrolls and paintings in Dr. Mercer's books. This gruesome thing had probably murdered Bill Parsons, but Shuttle, licking himself thoughtfully while watching the mummy grovel, could not bring himself to attack this unusually sensitive and courteous example of Egyptian eternity.

He did spring at it a little, to shoo it off, then followed it from Dr. Mercer's tent, battling at the bandages it dragged to let it know that he meant business. It returned to the tomb, past the body of the guard, now an empty husk whose ka had apparently had more pressing matters to attend to than guarding the tomb.

The mummy returned to its coffin and case, settling itself in with a sigh of dust. It did not replace the lid. That did not rea.s.sure Shuttle. Certainly the mummy was obedient now, with a cat-ka to show it its place, but Shuttle had no idea how long he could maintain his present state. Surely, his ka must return to his body again soon and then Dr. Mercer would be once more at the mummy's mercy. And, of course, the rest of the expedition also would be in danger, but he concerned himself with only one aspect of the situation at a time.

The piteous mewling was louder now, closer, but it seemed to Shuttle that it was less a complaint and more a summons. He leaped onto the rim of the mummy case and followed his nose, until he peered over the head-end of the mummy case, where he observed a small mound, little more than earth and sand from the look of it. To this mound he was drawn and he began scratching, scratching, his incorporeal claws flinging ancient ghost-dirt and ghost-sand to either side of him until the real dirt and sand collapsed over a small casket. He took two paces backward as the lid of this casket began to wiggle. The mewling increased in intensity. He extended a delicate paw and shipped the d.a.m.ned thing away, startling himself that he wasable to do so, since he had grown used to having no substance. Within the casket lay another cat mummy, golden rings in the ears, bound with basketlike strips confining body, paws and tail. Lovely latticework. Probably indicated a lot about period, craftsmanship, the people who made it. But from within, now, came the compelling cry, "Release us."

Shuttle set a tentative paw on the bandage. "Release us," the cry rasped again. He pawed loose an end and took it in his teeth. It felt gummy, tasted of dust and ancient herbs. To his surprise, his tugging had some effect. At first the bandages crumpled beneath his teeth and paws, but as he came to the deeper layers, they simply unwound. The sticky substance dissolved as he burrowed deeper into the mummy, so intent upon his labors, upon stilling the cry, that he did not notice at once when the dust rising from the corpse turned to vapor and the vapor formed into a cat-ka.

He was ravaging the last of the bandages when the voice, purring now, not mewling, bespoke him. "You have done well, descendant and disciple. Rest now, and bathe." He looked up and was startled to see another cat, not a sleek ebony figure sitting majestically erect like the statues, but a beautiful four-colored tortoisesh.e.l.l curled in midair, her tail wrapped comfortably about her feet, her sapphire blue right eye and her emerald green left eye regarding him with beneficence.

Still, it was her territory. "I beg your pardon," he said. Something about her made him roll submissively onto his back. Her spectral tongue licked his spectral fur until he understood that he was not required to submit, and pretended instead to be bathing his left hind leg. "Didn't know there was anyone else about in these partsa""

"Did you not?" she asked. "Then why have you come, if not to release us? You may speak freely."

"It's my job, you see," he said, cleaning between his front toes. "I am an Egyptologist. My people have been digging up your people for many years now. And please excuse my ignorance, but who might you be?"

"We are an incarnation of the G.o.ddess Bastet, of course. You weren't expecting Anubis we trust? Good. As for begging our pardon, there is no need, for you have freed us."

"Yes," he said. "Yes, I have. And very good of me it was to do so, too, when your minion herea"this is your minion?" he flicked his tail at the larger mummy.

"In her last incarnation, she was our priestess."

"Your mummy killed one of my colleagues and attempted to kill my fra"era"my priestess. I thought it was because we had desecrated your tomb."

The jeweled eyes closed for a moment, then opened, the purring growing louder. "She is very diligent, our priestess, but unfortunately a product of the delusions of our civilization. She knows our spirit has been restless and according to her belief, the only way to appease us is sacrifice. That was all well and good while one was embodied, you see, and hungered for offerings of fish and cream, but when one is bound paw and tail, such measures serve only to drive your people away, taking with them my unfortunate children."

"Your children?"

"The litters of my loins from this incarnation, when humans sought to honor us by enslaving our kas within these worldly rags." She flicked her tail derisively at the disintegrating bandages. "Our kind were much honored in our lifetime. Not just the fish and cream, but safely and protection for all in our name. Laying so much as a sandal on one of us was punishable by death, and people made statues of us and mourned us when we died. But then they conceived the notion that since they were attached to their present incarnation, we must be likewise, and they began to enshroud and entomb us as you see here. It was a terrible turn and as they were too primitive to learn our tongue, however devoted they were otherwise, there was simply no way to tell them that what was thought good and desirable for such stylized creatures as themselves was living death to our kind. Many of us sought to escape by leaping into fires when the occasion rose and speeding to the next incarnation, so terrified were we of being body-bound for all eternity. But we who were worshiped directly were far too protected to escape the fate to which our worshipers unwittingly condemned us. Though we would have hidden ourselves from them, still, they found us and left us even as you find us now."

"Appalling," Shuttle agreed. "But my people are not responsible."

"Your people would take us from our native soil," Bastet said. "Lacking the respect of our servants, they would disregard our imprisoned souls and we would never be free to walk the earth on four paws again."

"But I released you. You are free."

"I am a G.o.ddess. I have my responsibilities. My kittens remain bound."

Shuttle stared back into the sea-deep eyes, raised his tail twice and flopped it down, "I'd free them for you in an instant, just out of professional courtesy, but this is not the real me, you understand, but my ka."

"Your ka, O deliverer of our spirit, is the real you. But we are curious as to the whereabouts of your physical incarnation and how your ka came to separate from it."

"Mya"mrrra"physical incarnation lies sleeping across the sea. I dreamed of the danger to Dr. Mercer and our colleagues and since my body could not come, I came without it. Fortunate thing that I did, too. I fear that priestess of yours has already killed two of our party and would have killed Dr. Mercer except that I was there to put a stop to it." He growled a little at the last.

"Our servant is impetuous. But no matter. You will serve us, if we enable it?"

Shuttle blinked slowly. "So I have said."

"You may leave us. Even as your spirit and mine cooperated to free us, so shall we lend weight to your ka-self, sharpness to your ka-claws and strength to your ka-jaws that you may release our imprisoned ones. Go now."

He went, casually, as if it were his own idea. He tried to pa.s.s through the walls of the tent where the cat mummies lay, but b.u.mped his nose, and had to enter through the flap instead. Bill Parsons was gone. Shuttle supposed he had gone wherever they took dead humans. Just as well. After all the studying Shuttle had done to learn about the preservation, restoration and storage of artifacts, he did not want even the corpse of a colleague observing him in such unprofessional conduct. There was no way to tell his fellow scientists that these mummies were not mere artifacts, but contained the living kas of cats long overdue for reincarnation. He rather suspected that even if humans could understand the words, they would be unable to grasp the concept. Even Bastet's pet priestess was no brighter.

Something screamed and laughed maniacally nearby and Shuttle froze, his trail bristling. When the noise continued, he realized he must be hearing the cry of a jackal. Dratted dog, he thought with disgust, and went to work.

Life on the street between Miss Rosamund's and Dr. Mercer's homes was excellent preparation for freeing mummified cats. First he gave each shroud a series of good long rakes with his claws, to open the bandages, then he seized the ends in his teeth and pulled, as he had once pulled the ends of the scarlet yarn in Miss Rosamund's knitting basket. The bandages tasted dreadful and the gum on them stuck to his fur, but once he got the unwinding started the contents dissolved to dust. The dust rose and the vaporous ka emerged in shimmering cat form, stretched, gave itself a lick or two, and vanished. Many times he did this, until his whole body ached and his teeth tingled. But finally the last of Bastet's kittens dissolved into nothingness and he sank to his belly among the ruined bandages.

Just in time to hear the slump, slither, shuffle, drag pa.s.s beside the tent wall.

Weariness forgotten, Shuttle jumped to his feet and dashed from the tent into the smoky gray dawn. He leaped in front of the mummy just as it reached Dr. Mercer's tent. He did not give the mummy time to genuflect this time but pounced at it so that it stumbled backward. He pounced it all the way back to the tomb and stood growling while it shrank into its coffin. No sooner was it supine than he intended to spring upon it and shred it as he had the shrouds of the kittens.

But suddenly Bastet stood before him, her back raised in fighting position, her mottled fur erect, jeweled eyes glowing.

"So that's how you reward your servants, is it?" he hissed. "That thing tried to kill Dr. Mercer again. Let me ripa"let me free it, as I did you and the others."

"Our priestess is human. This is her immortality and her mission. This is her presence. Unruly though she is, we cannot reward her by allowing her to be sundered from her destiny."

"Well, fine," Shuttle spat. "Then tell her to keep away from my people."

"She obeys her destiny even as you have obeyed yours," Bastet said, settling down into her mummy's chest. Shuttle thought he saw the bandages over the skeletal face lift in a smirk through the velvet fur of the G.o.ddess. "Even now the strength we lent you is gone. Return to your body, deliverer, and take your servant with you."

Shuttle felt the remaining strength fade from his paws and claws and jaws, and his whiskers and tail drooped and he saw that he could once more see the tiled floor through his own feet. He meowed. "If only I could! But she will not leave."

"Then she should be punished for her faithlessness," Bastet said.

"You simply don't understand the way scientists think, G.o.ddess," Shuttle told her. "Dr. Mercer and I are of one mind on this. It is necessary to dig in this land to do one's worka"she must dig as you and I must dig and hunt anda"era"G.o.ddess, for that matter, please do not make me vanish and leave her to that mummy. She is more than a servant to me. She is my comrade, my colleague, my companion, and my comfort. How can you beg me to go against all I have learned to do as you asked and then deprive me of her?"

"Oh, well, if you're going to get maudlin about it," the G.o.ddess said huffily. "We do reward service."

"Then you'll call off the mummy?"

"We cannot. But we have another idea. You may find it a bit hectic, but if you insist on forming unsuitable attachments you have to be prepared to put up with some inconvenience. You have freeda"let us see, seventeen, not counting our divine self, times nine isa"153 lives. We suppose one extra for you should not be too much to grant. So be it. You have our blessing."

The soft pressure of a hand across his sun-warmed fur awakened Shuttle. Lazily, he gazed up into Dr. Mercer's sweating face.

"And where did you come from, my friend?" she asked.

"He's colored just like your cat at home, Jane," Bill Parsons said. "Wonder how he got in the tomb."

"Probably the same way that jackal got into the tent and destroyed the cat mummies."

"Now, Jane, I'm sorry. But that nightmare I had was far too vivid for me to remain in that tent the rest of the night. You know very well I have a weak heart."

"I know very well you have a weakness for sherry. As does Achmed, which is no doubt how cat here got around him."

"Watch that beast. He'll bite you."

"Nonsense. He's quite friendly, aren't you, fellow?" Shuttle purred and b.u.mped her hand. "If I didn't know it was impossible, I'd swear this is Shuttle. I shall name him that anyway and adopt him. Surely Shuttle won't mind having a namesake."

And so the cat joined them. He, too, dug, invesligated, and studied, and in the evenings slept on Dr. Mercer's knees and at night patrolled the camp to keep his a.s.sociates from harm.

When the scientists packed up to return, Dr. Mercer paid a local family well to care for him until her return, but as soon as she left, he crept away into a secret cave and slept a long sleep.

Shuttle raced to the door to meet Dr. Mercer when she returned to their flat. Monica Thomas watched in amazement as the professor set down her bags, held out her fingers to her cat, who b.u.mped against them, and then gathered him in her arms and stroked him while he purred.

"Well," Monica Thomas said, "I'm glad to see the old thing can move. He's always asleep when I'm home and he hasn't been eating well. I think he missed you."

But Monica Thomas, as usual, was wrong. From the moment of Bastet's blessing, Shuttle's ka traveled from his Egyptian body to the one in America and back again, depending on the season. And while in Egypt he might miss his bed and his books as he might, in America, miss digging in the sand and the freedom of chasing lizards through the camp, he never again had to miss Dr. Mercer.

end.