This is a work of fiction. The characters of Mummies Alive are the property of DIC International. The character of Damia is the property of Sarda Rowan. Lyris is the property of the Goddess Mia. Trynia, Mennehotep, Kara, Tharankhenat and Menet are my own characters, as is Mohammed Aziz. If you wish to use them please ask me first. :) The chraracters Hatshetsup, Sehnmut, Thutmoses II and III are based on historical figures, but this is not meant to be accurate. :)

I do this for fun, and my interest in ancient Egypt. Enjoy.

By Theresa Meyers AKA Trynia Merin.

Traveler from a Strange and Distant Time

an account of Animate Necrotics as related by Trynia Merin, Planetary Explorer....

Afternoon found the Rosicrucian Museum in San Jose painted in dusty red hues. This amazing structure was totally devoted to the study of Ancient Egypt. Inside its mazes of galleries and rooms were housed many treasures of the ancient civilization. Many Egyptologists longed to get their hands upon any new discoveries loaned there.

In the back collection room, a team of researchers gathered around a recent find. The roughly hewn sarcophagus was somewhat battered from its 2000 year sleep. Faintly could be seen the marks of the protective wings of the Ibis, wrapping its mummy in slumber. One Egyptologist looked at the other, and nodded.

"I cannot believe we just found this, in that hidden chamber," she said to her colleague.

"You say it was from the tomb of Mennehotep?" said Amanda Carnarvon.

"That's right," said the Egyptian researcher to their left.

"Dr. Aziz, can you confirm the date?"

"The labs dated it about the same time as the 18^th dynasty, during the reign of Hatshetsup."

"What can you tell?"

"The ornamentation is less. And preliminary translations of text indicate that this was a servant of some repute. Probably of the Princess herself. I would judge by these markings here that she was a priestess, or perhaps a guardian..."

"A royal guardian?" mused Mrs. Carnarvon.

"What is the matter?"

"This would be quite a find," said Amanda. "We already have an extensive exhibit on Princess Mennehotep. Would it be possible to exhibit this as part of my museum's collection..."

"With all due respect," said Dr. Aziz. "Your museum has had er, a rash of thefts in the past few months. This cannot be risked at this early stage."

"I assure you," said Amanda. But she was silenced by a warning glance from Mr. Hepplewhite, her boss.

"We will be going now. Let us know if you change your mind," said Mr. Hepplewhite. Taking his co-worker's shoulders, he ushered Amanda out the door.

* * *

Menne puttered about her laboratory, as was usual for this time of day. Somehow her mind was a million miles away now. As she glanced into one bronze dish she caught a glimpse of her reflection. Her entire face shimmered and danced in the liquid held there. The curves of her cheek glowed as if with RA's blood.

One other person really had a cheek of gold. It was so long ago, when she was but a little girl. When her mother was still Pharaoh...

In the great Palace, people raced about in panic. Servants ran with their arms crammed full of rich garments. Soldiers grasped their weapons. The little Princess Menne felt the fear of the unknown as it gripped her heart in its tight restrictive band. All the grown ups looked so scared, and she had been forgotten as the cluster of serving women were shooed to a place of safety.

"It is the end! The sky is falling!" she heard. Menne trotted off, trying off find where Kara, her big sister had vanished to.

She ran, down the long corridors of the Palace, following the distant cries of the serving women. Turning a corner, she collided with something hard. Carefully she looked up, noticing a pair of bronze legs encased in golden sandals. The upper part of the legs were covered in a white linen toga, with a gold fronstpiece.

"Do not fear, little one," said the tenor voice from far above. A gold and turquoise hat lent even more height to the person's stature. Hands rested on her shoulders, and lifted the Princess to his arms. Menne looked up into the face of her Teacher, and Guardian. Kohl traced the outlines of his brown eyes as they twinkled into her own. The face was so much older than hers, with distinctive wrinkles round his cheeks. They made him look as if he was always smiling.

"Why is everyone running," she asked.

"Look out there," he pointed, holding her securely with one arm as he carried her out of the panicking throng. She still clung to Sehnmut's shoulder, and glanced at the dark skies through the papyrus columnades. Streaks of fire bled from the heavens. They bashed their way into the desert sands, hissing as they hit.

"The skies are falling," she squealed, and gripped his arm tightly.

"Do not fear little one," said Sehnmut, patting her back as they ran along. "The power of Thoth with protect you..."

"But my sister is gone... and I am all alone.."

"It is good that I have found you, your Majesty," he soothed, as they rounded a corner. "All are in panic for they fear what they do not know."

For as long as she could remember he'd been a member of the court. This tall slender man with the tanned skin and dark eyes had taught her the arts of writing. Like many members of his family, he was a Scribe. Few had the honor of serving the royal house. Yet there were many Scribes that chiseled and scratched the words of Pharaoh each day. He was but one more. Or was he? For he had the Queen's favor. Those who were favored by the Queen prospered. Already he had the title of Royal Steward, a name that few could attest to. Nevertheless his family was descended from a long line of scribes that once served as a Guardian of Rapses. So long ago. She had seen the strange magic his uncle had coaxed out of him in the High Priest's temple. In the shrines of Thoth, his patron god. And he was but

They blundered into the mass of guards as they conducted the members of the Royal house into an inner chamber. Sehnmut still held her close, soothing Menne should she whimper. She was only eight years old, and so afraid.

"Why do we cower in fear?" snarled Thutmoses, her step-brother, through the gloom of the enclosed space. So many from the palace gathered there, that it seemed a whole sea of white separated her brother from them both.

"My brother, I am frightened," she sniffled, and saw his proud features through the dark. He was thirteen; a man in all practical intents and purposes under Egyptian law.

"My Prince, I have found her," said the Scribe, as he held her before her brother.

"You'll be rewarded," said the boy, and turned to the other trembling people. Soft cries of fear wracked their silence. Through the Scribe's arms Menne felt the vibrations of the trembling earth as each star fell.

"Do not fear, Nefru-re," said Thutmoses, his eyes growing soft at the sight of her fear. "I will protect you, as I have promised. None shall harm you..."

"I do not like that name," she pouted, forgetting fear temporarily as he called her by her birth name.

"It means beauty, and you have much of it..." he said, glancing at her with those dark eyes. "A worthy daughter of the Queen!"

She never liked being called Nefru-Re. Even though that was the name given to her by her own mother and father, Thutmoses II. She much preferred Mennehotep, given to her by her beloved teacher, the Scribe and Steward.

"It's the end of the world!" wailed Memnet, one of the slaves to the left.

"I will die as a Pharaoh!" said Thutmoses standing resolute. "And fight till the end!"

"Don't be a fool," sniffed Kara, as she emerged from the gloom, and pushed her way to Menne's Guardian's side.

"Sister," said Menne, brightening up.

"I am glad you are here," said Kara, extending a hand to Menne. The green eyes shone with concern, even though Kara was but ten.

"Will we die?" asked Menne.

"Of course not," laughed Kara. "The high Priestess will save us. She always does..."

At the mention of her, Sehnmut's dark eyes darkened even more. "If so, it will only be for her own diabolical purposes."

A huge heaving of the ground threw them all to their feet. Dust and stone pelted them from above in the dark underground chamber. The Scribe wrapped both Pharaoh's daughters in his arms to shield them from the mess. Rock was everywhere. Loose sand and gravel surrounded her, like corse sand. Menne could not move. Dust choked her throat. She could still feel the hand of her guardian around her waist. It was still warm with life. But she could not see, for the miles of rock that enclosed her. A huge block rested only inches from her face, and it was sinking.

"Isis, protect me!" she sobbed. Then she heard shouting. The rock was lifted away, and she could see the stars above. Where was the roof?

A hand reached around her, removing the tomb of dirt. In the star-washed light it glistened like the moon, with metal. "What?" she gasped.

"Easy now. You're safe," said a voice. She could understand its speech, but it seemed a bizarre singsong accent. Her little eyes looked up at a shadow. The moon overhead shone as hands of great strength lifted aside the rocks that had fallen around the Scribe. Menne could sit up, and see him laying there with Kara in his other arm. Tall pillars rose up to the empty skies. No roof blocked their view of Net now.

"What?" she gasped. The view was eclipsed by the stranger. Long fronds of hair blew over a shining cheek of Moon metal. Silver. Two eyes glistened with intense light. The curve of the face seemed silver, as the shining jewelry that encrusted the woman's hands that lifted the huge stones and hurled them aside. Strange fabric stretched over legs and a body that seemed like her Mother's. But the broadness of the thighs and the absence of a skirt was odd. All women wore white linen dresses. And no one had metal on their face unless it was armor. It had to be. All over the right half of her face was a filigree of silver that curved over her chin and ear. The metal streaked up her arms, and glistened on her legs. Yes. It was armor. Woven into the strange cloth that seemed thick.

The next day they'd gathered in the throne room. Hatshetsup rose from the throne of Horus, and raised her scepter. Menne stood near the throne, beside the Prince. Sidelong they glanced at each other through the veil of kohl that outlined their eyes, and giggled. Kara stood on the other side, beside the Steward and tutor Sehnmut, favorite of the Queen.

The scribes sat, scribbling into hieroglyphs the words which Pharaoh spoke. Her gaze flickered to the figures assembled before the throne. Two guards flanked the stranger who had tossed the stones the night the stars fell.

"I have heard the news of your deeds, stranger," said Hatshetsup. "How your great strength moved the fallen ceiling of this Palace."

The figure knelt on one silver knee, its head of dark hair inclined. It knew the proper obeisance due a Pharaoh. It spoke not, but continued to listen. The slender figure of Hatshetsup stepped one step down, extending his crook and flail. "You have saved the lives of my children. Clearly your intention is of peace. From what land do you hail?"

The dark haired head looked up, and the silver cheek glistened. Black eyes fixed on Hatshetsup. An amused grin spread across its lips. They appeared thinner, not full like those of any Egyptian woman but pretty. The strange pallid skin did not look like any shade she saw in Egypt. "That is complicated to explain... your Majesty," it said haltingly. That voice seemed to have a whining tone like a mosquito from the Nile. Not a voice like flesh, but that of a metal scraping metal.

"You must explain to Pharaoh," said the High Priestess, Chondra, emerging from the throng nearby. Menne shivered at the lined face, still bearing grace and beauty. Just how old was Lady Chondra? Her Guardian had told her that the High Priestess of Isis was almost 120 years old, the perfect age for an Egyptian.

"How can I make you understand," said the Stranger softly. "I came... from the sky..."

Gasps rose. "That is not possible..."

"I mean... I am from a land so distant that it would take many lifetimes to travel there...

"Really?" sniffed Chondra. "Do you speak in riddles as well."

"What is your purpose here?" asked Hatshetsup.

"I am a traveler, who learns the ways and customs of other peoples not my own," said the woman. "I live in many lands, and write of what I see for the people of my land..."

"I see," said Hatshetsup. "You are a bard, perhaps?"

"If you mean, do I write and sing... you could say that. But I am lost, and my machine is broken. I fear I have no way of getting home..."

"Machine?"

"I came in a machine that crosses the barrier of Time, making my steps here but a few days," said the stranger. "But my machine was broken last night as the stones fell. I cannot go home..."

"A machine," smiled Hatshetsup. "Can it not be fixed?"

"Not without much help," sighed the woman. Menne saw infinite sadness in the bright eyes. "Of the wise men of my land and time."

"So you wish asylum in my land?" said Hatshetsup.

"Majesty, is that wise?" Chondra whispered in her ear.

"If she is from a far land, we cannot risk harming her. She did save those buried last night..."

"Very well. I am intrigued by her machine of which she speaks..."

"If you pledge your loyalty to me and my laws, you may remain. You have saved the lives of my daughters. For that you have my gratitude."

"I can be of any service," said the stranger. "For I have learned much in my travels."

"You may be able to teach my children much if you are a traveler," said Hatshetsup. "I welcome you here. Escort the Guest to chambers where she may refresh herself..."

Serving women stepped forwards, and ringed the stranger. Amusement spread over her face as they touched the strange fabric of her form fitting garments. They seemed as tight as a second skin. "And give her robes befitting a member of Pharaoh's court," said Hatshetsup as they lead her away.

Menne traced back in her mind as she remembered. It was hard for her to concentrate on her scrolls that next day. Beside her Kara and her brother painted the list of symbols with fine brushes as the Scribe demonstrated their forms. Her latest hieroglyph smudged as she flinched. "Your majesty," said Sehnmut with a slight cough.

"I am sorry," she apologized, as she looked up. She tried to cover her smudge with her one hand. Patiently he glanced at the papyri of Kara, then Thutmoses. He nodded his approval. "Princess Mennehotep," he said, nodding to her.

Gingerly she raised her hand. Black dye stained its underside as he lifted it. Amusement twinkled the Scribe's brown eyes, despite his frown. "Please do try to let the ink dry before putting your hand over it," he said simply, still grasping her wrist firmly yet gently.

They both looked up into the face of Pharaoh. The fine smooth cheeks also mirrored the amusement of the Scribe. He bowed profusely, and backed away from the children.

"I have a question for you," she said.

"You have but to ask," he said, from the ground. It was amusing to see the tall fellow crunched over in such an uncomfortable position. Like many men in his family, his slender form moved with the grace and sinuosity of a Cobra.

"Is there any among your family that know the arts of metalworking or machines?" asked Pharaoh.

"Great one, there are many. But only a few that know such things..."

"Your brother?" smiled Hatshetsup. Her eyes glowed softly as they fixed into those of Menne's tutor. Such affection she had only seen in the eyes of her Brother for her. She shivered. What did that soft look mean? She was so young and unable to understand.

"Tharahkamut," said Sehnmut. "Knows the workings of metal and has the finest touch of magic that any have known. It is said the blood of Rath himself flows in his veins!"

"Have him come to the main hall. I have a request..."

Mennehotep raced away from her sister. The two were playing tag, as they usually did. "I will get you," came Kara's voice from ten cubits back.

"Uh uh!" giggled Menne. She raced into the quarters of the Serving women. A lovely pool was set into the vast floor. In their linings the women splashed and laughed as they poured water over a figure. Two of them held up a sheet to hide the body of the stranger as she bathed. Menne hid behind a pillar to watch.

White linen was wrapped about the stranger's body. Her eyes lifted and seemed to peer right in Menne's direction. As if she could look through the pillar itself and see Menne hidden there. Shivering, she huddled down.

Once she was clothed, a man entered the room. From his green robing Menne knew him to be the Court Wizard, Tharankhenat. He set down vials and dishes at the fountain's edge. Two serving women took the hands of the stranger and held them out. Breezes lightly fluttered against the thin skins of Ra's blood as he lay a sheet over her arm. Over the silver. With great care he brushed the sheet into place. Then he placed strange liquids over the arm, and ran two wires into the mix. There was a slight crackle as fire leapt from the clay jar, and the gold stayed in place.

"Is this necessary?" she laughed.

"It is not wise to refuse a gift of Pharaoh," said the Wizard.

"I suppose this is a great honor," she sighed. "I had no idea you could electroplate..."

"What did you say?"

"That substance in the jar..."

"It allows the blood of Ra to fuse with whatever metal we choose. The wires drape in the liquid, and I touch them to the leaf... and the gold stays forever."

All over the silver the gold was leaved. Till those parts of the skin glistened like Ra himself. Now the stranger stood up, and regarded her reflection in the mirror. The dark hair glistened with oils in many long braids held back by a flat band. Thick kohl highlighted her dark eyes. Already her skin was beginning to darken in the rays of Ra. It wouldn't be long before it was darker, as skin should be. The simple white linen dress now wrapped about her stocky sturdy body. The gold glistened like Ra's fire, and seemed almost heavenly. And all the while the woman watched, as if she were not there. But in another place looking in at the world that happened around her.

* * *

Heka snaked out of her urn, and glanced around cautiously. Satisfied there was no one in sight, the golden serpent slipped to the floor. She slithered towards the Library where Scarab kept his many scrolls and books.

However, the object of her search wasn't a scroll. Her tongue flicked the button on the remote control. "Ah, at last I have it all to myself," she hissed with pleasure as the screen flickered into life.

The nightly news was just coming on. Heka watched as a woman flanked by two suited men chatted about daily events. Her eyes widened as the square over the woman's head flickered with the words, Egyptian update.

"In archaeological news today, a recent excavation unearthed the strangest of mummies yet. Apparently this mummy was found with certain prosthetics in place. X-Rays confirmed the presence of metal pins in the arms and knees of the mummy. This is the second such find at the Rosicrucian museum at San Jose. Expedition leader Mohammed Aziz has declined further comment. The mummy is on display now at the Rosicrucian Museum of Egyptology at San Jose..."

"What was that!" snapped Scarab. Heka backed away from eh remote.

"Er, hi boss," she babbled. "Didn't see you there..."

"Of course you didn't," he snapped. "I was practicing my invisibility... Nice try Heka. But Thursday is my TV night..."

"But Scarab..."

"I saw it all. I must have that Mummy!" he shouted.

"But what's so special about that mummy?" asked Heka. "If I recall correctly, you can't wait to destroy the accursed Mummies..."

"Those are the guardians of Rapses I mean when I say that, buffoon," he snarled. In his hands he clutched a scroll.

"What's that? Light reading?"

"I've been perusing the history since the reign of Amenhotep. And I found something fascinating. And it has everything to do with that mummy..."

"Begging your pardon, but I still don't see the point..."

"Feast your eyes on this, Heka," he said, unrolling the parchment.

"Time spells? Not that scroll again?"

"No. Something better. This scroll is from the Reign of Thutmoses II, also known as Thutmoses the Restless," said Scarab.

"The guy that booted his mom off the throne?" said Heka. "Please, I've seen enough soaps already today..."

"Pay attention! There are references to time here! One of the court wizards discovered how to harness time. He was working on a machine to stop time! And it almost worked!"

"Time machines? I know we were pretty far along back then , but seriously," Heka laughed.

"The scroll also speaks of a visitor from a faraway land. A place so far away that she used such a machine to travel in days. She was no older than the day she left! It says that the machine kept her young!"

"But where is this machine now?"

"That's why I must find that mummy! It was the traveler who used the machine! She was working with the wizard..."

"So? You need the machine, not the mummy."

"But the mummy, once I resurrect it can tell me how to built the machine..."

"And you think this ancient legend can give you immortality? Sorry, but I can see where this is going..."

"I've tried potions, and elixirs! But technology! If I can get that machine, and update it, I can control time itself! I will be immortal! Without the need for the Pharaoh's soul!"

"But the museum is in San Jose."

"I don't own my own museum for laughs!" snarled Scarab. "Get me the phone!"

* * *

Amanda Carnarvon's face lit up as she hung up the phone. "What's up Mom?" Presley asked, as she turned to him. "You look wired about something..."

"That was my boss. We can host the exhibit!" she cried, almost leaping with joy.

"What exhibit?"

"The one that's in San Jose..."

"You mean the mummy with the metal in her legs?" said Presley. "Cool! So like... what's up with that?"

"You'll see firsthand. Mr. Stone signed the release this morning. Oh, I can't wait..." she laughed, pulling on her jacket.

"So like, Mom, when is this mummy from anyway?"

"The reign of Hatshetsup, into the reign of Thutmoses," said Amanda. "Drink your milk. I'll drop you at school on my way to work..."

"Hatshetsup?" Presley said, almost spitting out his milk. "You mean that lady Pharaoh?"

"Sure thing."

"Hatshetsup. . . as in the mom of Mennehotep?"

"Actually her real name was Nefru-Re," his mother corrected him. "Mennehotep was her name in the royal court..."

"Aw Mom, does it matter?" asked Presley. "Who was the mummy with the metal?"

"An assistant... to their Court Wizard at the time. It's a great example of how Hatshetsup tried to expand the roles of women in her reign. Why, teaching magic to a woman is..."

"Mom, I hate to tell you, but there were priestess long before..."

"She wasn't a priestess. At least not according to Dr. Aziz. Look , hurry up. I'll tell you more later..."

She shoved a paper sack into his hands, and hurried him out the kitchen door. Presley's Prince spirit squirmed inside him with alarm. Something was not right.

* * *

"Heeera!" shouted Armon as he countered the punches of the solid slender figure.

"Heera!" she shrieked in return.

Damia's eyes glistened as she continued the sparring. Before her she held her long spear, much in the fashion of Lyris, the muse. She whirled the long shaft in her hands, then whipped it so the point thrust forwards. Armon leapt out of the way.

Damia swung her weapon under, tripping the gargantuan mummy. He crashed to the floor with a mighty thud.

"Sorry about that," she laughed, reaching her hand out to help him up.

"Good one, Damia!" he laughed. "As Presley would say, Awesome!"

"That's what he'd say alright," she laughed.

"Do you mind making less noise," snapped Rath, looking up from the spirit box. "I thought a heard of elephants had rumbled through here!"

"Aw, chill Rath," said Damia, wiping sweat from her brow. "I don't see you doing it any quieter..."

"I am quite hot enough as it is," he sniffed. "I really must talk with Ja-Kal about the state of the heating system... I have a few ideas..."

Armon and Damia groaned at his literal interpretation of the expressions of the time. "Not that chill," she sighed. "The other..."

"Oh, I knew that," he sniffed. Armon and Damia plunked down on either side of him, scrunching the scribe between them. "Do you mind?"

"I sure don't," said Armon. "Pass the popcorn..."

Rath shoved his way from between them, and stormed off. He muttered crossly under his breath about women and thugs before entering his lab.

A few of the other mummies wandered into the room, and noticed the spirit box was on. Like worshipers at a shrine they reverently stopped to pay homage. Nefer-Tina and Mennehotep took places near Damia and Armon as the news update flashed on.

"What's up, Menne?" asked Damia, turning to the Princess.

"Oh, just surfacing for air," said Mennehotep. "Nefer-Tina here said that I spend too much time at my potions."

"Got that right, Princess," said Nefer-Tina. "You've been in there all day! I thought you were gonna turn into a statue with the rest of your collection..."

"It isn't Lyris' studio," said Damia. "She's an alchemist, not a Muse..."

"Very funny, you two," chuckled Mennehotep.

"Quiet! The man is about to speak," said Armon, hushing them. He shoved a fistful of popcorn into his mouth to quell his rumbling stomach. Damia and Nefer-Tina stared raptly at the screen, inserting small bits of the popcorn in at a time to their mouths. Menne folded her arms and settled back.

* * *

"Where is that scroll!" Rath grumbled.

"What scroll?" asked a voice. The Scribe leapt nearly a foot out of his bandages.

"Lyris, don't frighten me like that!" he scolded her as he whirled about on the Muse. She smiled sweetly and stood there in silence.

"If you must know I've been missing my set of alchemical incantations..."

"You lent them to the Princess, don't you remember?" said Lyris, with a laugh.

"Surely she gave them back..."

"You didn't ask her..." said Lyris.

"Well, I have had a lot on my mind lately," said Rath, with a cough. "What brings you here?"

"Things are slow now. I was wondering if you wanted to do something tonight... like catch a movie or something..."

"You mean... a date?"

"Er, if you like," said Lyris. "You don't get out enough. You're starting to get pale..."

"I'm dead. I supposed to be pale," he snorted.

"Oh, come on. You need a break...."

"But I have several spells to decipher..."

"Decipher them later... come on..."

* * *

They emerged to find everyone crowded about the Spirit box. Mennehotep had tears in her dark onyx eyes. "What's wrong, Princess?" Damia asked her. The two of them had much in common, their patron goddess being Isis.

"What's wrong?" Nefer-Tina gasped, as Mennehotep dropped to her knees.

"I... felt someone in pain and confusion," she gasped, hand to her head. The amethyst in her ibis pendant glowed fiercely. Damia bit her lip in frustration. Just what was she on about?

"Come on, now, you must know who it is," Damia said, trying to mask her impatience. "Obviously it must be someone you know if your amulet's glowing like that...."

"Tell me something I don't know," she gritted, as another shard of pain ripped right through her. Her hands clenched and unclenched, as she stretched them out. As if she was reaching for someone she had not seen for ages.

Her eyes glazed over, and she went totally limp. Damia and Nefer-Tina took her between them, and retreated back to the Sphinx.

Minutes later, Menne lay on the ancient Egyptian bed that had so long ago bore her during her mortal years. A very concerned Ja-Kal stood impatiently as Rath waved his ankh over the Alchemist. "So what is wrong with her?" he asked, hands on his hips.

"Just a moment. This isn't a quick spell, you know," he hushed Ja-Kal.

"Well, do you or don't you know what's going on?" Damia demanded. "After all its just someone passed out! It's not as if she was attacked physically."

"That is precisely it, dear child," he sniffed sarcastically, emphasis on the word "dear".

"Well, my dear Rath," responded Damia, her own sarcasm biting against his. "Are you going to say this is difficult to explain?"

"That's enough you two," said Ja-Kal, irritated. He hovered over the Princess, getting in Rath's way as the Scribe attempted another examination.

"Do you mind?" he said. "I can't work with all of you in here hovering over me like a pack of jackals..."

He stopped short when Lyris and Nefer-Tina walked in with Presley. "Oh, pardon me, Lyris," he blushed, turning a decided shade of purple. "No offense."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," she said. In her hands she held a white paper cone wrapped tightly around a cluster of pretty flowers. "I came as soon as I heard what happened. Is she going to be all right?"

"That is precisely what I'm attempting to discern. If I didn't have so many untold interruptions," said Rath, icily as he glared in Damia's and Ja-Kal's direction.

"All right, I can take a hint," said Damia, as she wandered out. "See you later."

"Ja-Kal, I know you're worried about her, but standing here is not going to help Rath," said Nefer-Tina as she crossed over to him. Pensively Ja-Kal looked to her, then back at the Princess. She looked as if all the life had been drained from her mummified body. The sparkle and radiance was gone. Gently the charioteer lay a hand on his shoulder.

"If anything were to happen to her... I just...." he began, and put a head in his hands.

"I know," said Nefer-Tina. "Why don't we leave Rath to his work. If anyone can help her, he can..."

* * *

Amanda Carnarvon stood over the packing crates as they were unloaded. "Careful with those," she instructed as they pulled out the sarcophagus. "Take that to the collections room. We need to examine it for any damage..."

She followed the movers as they shuffled along. A reluctant Dr. Aziz walked at her side, shaking his head. "Look, I know you're not thrilled about this," she said to him. "But believe me, you're going to have all sorts of new visitors here at our museum."

"I'm just concerned about the safety record of your museum," said Dr. Aziz as they approached the collections room. Gently the movers placed the sarcophagus on the nearby viewing table. A x-ray machine sat to one side, amidst other scientific equipment.

"But Mr. Stone gave his word that there was a recent alarm system put in," said Amanda. "And it's the best money can buy."

"It's not just money," said Dr. Aziz. "This mummy is one of a kind. Unique. And we haven't had the time to study it properly..."

His eyes pressed shut, as if to repress a memory. "What's wrong?" asked Amanda. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"I was just remembering someone very dear to me," he said quietly. "Someone who should have had the first privilege of studying this find...."

"I'm sorry about your sister," said Amanda, laying a hand on his arm. "How long has it been?"

"Eight months since she slipped into her coma," he said. "And no sign of recovery."

"Car accident it was, right?"

"Yes. One of the best forensic chemists this side of the Atlantic, and my dear Mindhi lay there as stiff as these mummies in your collection..."

"I'm sorry. Truly sorry..."

"She would have loved to study this mummy. After the work she did radio carbon dating the collections from Mennehotep's tomb, and the tomb of Rapses..."

"I know. She did very valuable chemical analyses for us last year. But I'm sure she'll come out of it someday..."

They turned to the mummy case before them now. Both of them slipped on protective clothes to prevent possible contamination. From face masks to rubber gloves they armed themselves with the latest PPE. And approached the case. Other assistants had joined them, excited at the possibilities contained within the sarcophagus.

"Sarcophagus markings indicate 18^th dynasty, new kingdom," said Amanda into a tape recorder. "Has not been opened save in isolation."

Reverently Mohammed spoke a few words, and prayed. Then he turned to his assistants. "It is time. You may proceed."

Technicians gently pried the casing open. Their methods left no marks. All held their breath as the casing was lifted. Beneath was another box, of lacquered wood. The face glistened with gold, as if a swirl of gold covered one cheek and curved to the chin and left ear. The strange angles and lines represented were truly unique. Was this an attempt to depict scarring?

They opened the next case. There lay the death mask and the outer shroud of the mummy itself. The very atmosphere tingled with excitement. As many mummies the outer shroud was simply the outermost layer of many multiple miles of linen strips. "Remarkable preservation," Amanda breathed.

Carefully they unwrapped the outer shroud. Now the next layer was visible, where the limbs were individually wrapped. Mohammed found the first talisman, an amulet around the neck bearing the image of a star-burst. Very unusual as well. His fingers hesitated as he slipped aside other layers.

A noise made them jump. Was it just a trick of the light? Perhaps. Now he freed the arms from their Osiris pose. Slowly he began to unwrap one. Bright gold glistened as the layers came free. To their amazement the surface of the skin of one hand was ornately worked with gold wires and flat panels that seemed to trace the sinews of the hand. The wires actually penetrated the skin!

"If I didn't know better, I'd say it looked like the wires on the surface of a microchip..." muttered one person. Everyone stared her down. They were spooked enough already.

They pulled off the death mask, and started to unwrap the entire mummy, head first. A head of perfectly preserved hair surprised them with its thick braided richness. And the paleness of the skin as the eyes were visible, then the face.

Sure enough gold glistened on its left check. Like a metal plate that covered the cheek and passed over where the left ear would be. And the swirl of the chin was partly covered by the gold, as part of it also encircled one eye on the left. A few fine wires seemed to pierce the mummified flesh, traveling beneath the skin! But the eyes were not sewn shut. And the mouth suddenly dropped open. They all jumped in shock. The wall crashed down. Strange figures marched int, dressed in Egyptian garments. Their sightless eyes had no pupils. Indeed they looked as if they were made of clay! But they moved like human beings, tramping with heavy thumping footsteps.

Amanda and Mohammed tried to put the top on the case, and drag it back. Technicians struggled against the thieves, but were brushed aside with ease. Mohammed raised his hands and shouted something in ancient Egyptian. "What are you doing!" Amanda wailed. "Run!"

A shabtie grabbed his throat, choking off his words. Red rays from crystal staffs felled him to the ground, unconscious. The other technicians crumpled to the floor as well.

"Who are you!" Amanda snapped. "I'm calling the police if you don't get out of here."

Mockingly the figures refused to answer as they gathered up the sarcophagus. She rushed to the phone and stabbed buttons. Only to have one figure rip the phone from the wall. "I'm warning you... you're breaking and entering!" she snapped. Her high-heeled shoe flashed out in a kick.

From behind another Shabtie grabbed her, and pinioned her arms behind her back. "Let me go!" she shouted, kicking and flailing helplessly.

"Activation sequence initiated!" shouted a voice from within the sarcophagus. "Primary systems on line!"

A figure in white leapt from the sarcophagus. Amanda's shocked gaze registered the figure as it landed neatly on two bandaged legs before the Shabtie. They turned to confront it. That very mummy that had lay so still for centuries was walking around! Poor Amanda's words of surprise were choked off in her throat as her mouth dropped open.

Bright eyes registered the figures. The mummy bent in a defensive crouch as they advanced. With lightening speed it sent its golden hand into one, shattering it to shards. This was followed by a bandaged foot which lashed out, and pulverized another to dust. Gold gleamed off its face as the mummy launched itself into the air in a forward flip, then crashed into yet another figure. Its next leapt dodged the strange red laser rays form the staffs.

Till it landed on its feet before Amanda, and the figure that held her. "Release the human female," said the voice, with a slight whine. Like a version of that physicist's who required a computer to speak for him. But the figure was clearly flesh, even if was mummified.

"I advise you to reconsider," she said again. Two golden sheathed hands flashed out, slashing the clay hands. Amanda crumpled into the arms of the mummy, still in shock. Tenderly and reverently the figure scooped Amanda into its arms and lay her on a nearby table. The mummy rested an ear to Amanda's chest, and listened.

"Heart pumping. Skin warm. Breathing..." Confusion crossed her features. "I have reactivated... but what is this place..."

"Allow me to answer some questions," said a voice. The mummy turned with lightening speed to face a wizened figure.

"Identify yourself," said the mummy.

"I am Scarab," said he. "And I am sure you have many questions. If you will permit me to..."

"Scarab," muttered the mummy. "Scarab. My files are blanking... wait... you were a wizard in the court of Amenhotep, 18^th dynasty, time period 1525 BC..."

"That's right. But I am afraid you are no longer in 1525, or 1325 either..." Scarab began.

"Your body language suggests hostility," said the figure, more to herself. "Why should I trust a man responsible for the murder of a boy prince?"

"You are wrong..."

"I am seldom wrong, for my memory is enhance..." she snapped. "Your animate constructs caused damage to these hominids..."

"It was all a mistake..."

"No. I sense your intentions are hostile. I will not accompany you," she snapped, gathering Amanda Carnarvon into her arms. "I will take this human female to a place of physical repair."

"Shabtie, stop her..."

But before they could, she leapt out of their way. Scarab snarled, and aimed a blast at her. Yet she raised her hand, and a sizzling blue force dissipated his blast. "Your primitive energy displays are ineffective," said the mummy as she raced away into the night, Amanda Carnarvon in her arms.

"Well, that went well, boss," said Heka, as Scarab rushed after her.

"We must stop her..."

* * *

Just then the Princess writhed and tossed, arms flailing wildly. "Menne!" cried Ja-Kal, rushing back to her. Her onyx eyes snapped wide open. Total panic filled her face.

"Trynia... no.... look out!" she screamed.

"Menne, easy, It's all right," Ja-Kal soothed, stroking her cheek as he steadied her. "You're safe here..."

"This is crazy," said Rath. "I'd say she was having a psychic flash... of the past... but I never knew her to have that ability...."

"Why is that weird. Didn't you say that she was learning new spells from you?"

"I never taught her this ability."

"Maybe she had it, and it's just resurfacing..." said Ja-Kal.

"It's not her doing," said Rath, holding up his ankh. "This is from an outside source..."

"Ja... Ja-Kal," she croaked, eyes registering the Hunter as he hovered over her.

"Yes, it's me..." he said. "I'm here, there's no need to be afraid..."

"I am not afraid for myself... but for my friend..."

"Your friend?"

"The lady Tryniamerin," she gasped, and went limp.

"Who in the name of Osiris is that?" asked Ja-Kal.

"Maybe that's the mummy that Presley's mom was talking about..." said Nefer-Tina. In the doorframe the other Mummies poked their heads around. IT resembled one of those cartoon sketches with the stack of heads one atop the other.

Rath gestured once more, and chanted an ancient spell. "Source of pain, source of strife, find the main source of life... from what ails, from which comes anguish, reveal thyself and pain no longer nourish..."

Menne shuddered, as Ja-Kal held her steady. Then a strange energy enveloped her body. It coalesced into a fine mist before dissipating entirely. She lay so still they feared the worst. Then her eyes flickered open to look around the room. Intense relief shone in those pools of dark midnight black, and she smiled at Rath and Ja-Kal. "Thank you," she sighed, and tried to sit up. Ja-Kal slipped a hand under her back and raised her to a sitting position.

"I am sorry to scare you so," she apologized. "But it is over."

"What is over," stammered Ja-Kal, with a bit of anger at being scared so badly a few minutes before.

"Who is Trynia Merin?" asked Rath.

"An old friend, and a guardian..." said Mennehotep.

"You had a guardian?" asked Rath.

"Duh," muttered Damia. "Like she's a Princess, and she doesn't have one?"

"I mean, why have you never told us before about this?" asked Rath.

"It didn't' seem to be important till now," explained Mennehotep. "Not until the mummy was found."

"Wait. You mean that mummy in the museum was your guardian?" said Damia, walking into the room completely. All the others wandered in, trying to appear as casual as possible.

"That's right," said Mennehotep, glancing at the puzzled faces.

"The one on the spirit box?" said Armon.

"Yes. She was a member of my mother's court."

"Cool," said Damia. "What did she do?"

"She was one of my tutors," said Mennehotep. "I learned the arts of science form her."

"I thought Sehnmut was your teacher," said Lyris. "After he became the Steward of Egypt...."

"There were things that even the could not teach me," she said, sniffling into a bandage that Damia had passed her. "Even Tharankhenat, the Court Wizard..."

"Oh really," sniffed Rath.

"Jealous?" laughed Damia, glancing up at Rath. "Your precious great grand-nephew didn't know everything after all."

Lyris and Nefer-Tina looked at him in amusement. Rath gritted his teeth and took a breath. "What exactly do you mean, Your majesty?"

"She was from a faraway land," said Mennehotep, as she stood up. "A long time ago she came when the stars fell from the skies. She knew so many things that we did not. And spoke in riddles that our wisest men could not decipher."

"Was she a priestess?"

"That's the funny part," smiled Mennehotep in her tears. "She was a Bard like you, Lyris. A woman who traveled from kingdom to kingdom. Watching and learning about each civilization. Or so she said."

Lyris smiled with triumph at Rath. He paled considerably. Damia caught the Muses gaze with a look equivalent to "you go girl."

"But why didn't she ever come back to life?" asked Damia.

"She died before I did. Before I had my children. About the time my husband ascended the throne..."

"Wait, I'm confused," said Damia. "I thought you said you had a brother. Didn't he become Pharaoh?"

"Yes. It's coming back to me now," said Mennehotep, wiping away tears. "I... remember Thutmoses... my husband! Mighty leader of armies, who was only most comfortable in his chariot with his sword in hand. The jumble is gone. Hatshetsup was just a regent really. For her husband the old Pharaoh Thutmoses II had died. I was thier child. But I had a half sister... daughter of Thutmoses II from another wife... Thutmoses III was my mother's step-son. My half-brother. Kara was my sister... my half sister..."

"So you and Kara don't have the same mother?" asked Lyris, confused.

"No. But that wasn't important. Hatshetsup was a member of an important royal family. She married the ailing pharaoh, and became Queen. When the Pharaoh died, his son was too young to be prince. So she became Pharaoh. But when he was 13, she refused to step aside. For 20 years she reigned."

"What happened to get rid of her?" asked Nefer-Tina.

"She died of a strange illness. Shortly after my beloved teacher Senhmut. My mother's name was stricken from the List of Kings. But my sister Kara found out the plot, thanks to Chondra. Chondra betrayed my brother, for she wanted Kara to rule. A civil war was about to break out, for the supporters of Kara rallied against the new Pharaoh. But I found out about the plan. And told my brother. He sought to expose her..."

"Then?"

"So he became Pharaoh, and agreed to marry the two daughters of Hatshetsup. To preserve the royal line. I was the true daughter of the Pharaoh Thutmoses. But I was a woman, and unworthy to be Pharaoh like my Mother."

"How did Trynia die?"

"She died defending me when Chondra tried to have me killed. My husband Thutmoses III, had Kara banished from Egypt. Chondra was banished beyond the Western Gate. And a curse was set that if Kara did return, I would fight her to preserve the Throne, and the Pharaoh."

"What a lot of stuff," said Armon. "I've got a headache hearing it..."

"So where does Trynia fit into your fits?" asked Rath. The others winced. "Sorry, no pun intended."

"It's obvious to me," said Damia. "She must have been resurrected. And Menne here felt the backlash and confusion from the summoning spell."

"How would you know?" asked Mennehotep.

"I have my sources," she said. "Magic... er runs in my family, as it does in Rath's."

"Point taken," said Menne, suddenly seeing the pain in her eyes. Hidden pieces of Damia's past she did not know may soon be revealed. Or never revealed. For a moment she was silent. The Onyx eyes flickered over everyone.

Lyris understood when she said, "Are you connected to that guardian by a link similar to that which connected me to Celestrah?"

"That is so. I was thinking that maybe," said Mennehotep looking around at everyone.

"You want to go see her?" asked Damia, standing up beside Mennehotep. "For old time's sake."

"Yes. You read my mind," said Mennehotep.

"Us Isis gals gotta stick together," she quipped, bringing a smile to the Princess' lips.

"So you want us to find Trynia?" asked Ja-Kal.

"Yes. She served me well. And if she is alive here, she will be alone and afraid..."

"Presumably you can track her, Menne, if she is your guardian," said Rath.

"Yes."

"We'll leave as soon as you feel stronger, Menne," said Ja-Kal. "In the meantime, rest and restore your strength..."

"Somebody better take the Prince home," said Nefer-Tina. "I just remembered."

"We're going out," said Lyris. "We'd be happy to take him ourselves. Won't we, Rath?"

"Er," muttered Rath, with a slight cough.

"The lady means business," said Damia, with a laugh.

"Be very careful," said Ja-Kal. "Ra be with you. I shall remain here..."

* * *

Bandaged feet pounded the strange pavement as the mummy ran. Gold gleamed off her face in the strange lamps overhead. Her bright eyes registered the tall steel constructions that rose up to form the canyons around her. She slipped into a side alley, and waited as Scarab's car whirred by. Still she carried Amanda.

"What century am I in," she marveled. "Surely this technology is thousands of years ahead of the time I left..."

Concern for the fragile creature surfaced, and overrode scientific curiosity. "I will help you, human one, but I am rather conspicuous in this getup," she said.

"Where to now, Trynia," the mummy told herself. She glimpsed her reflection in a partly lit window. She stopped and gasped.

"What did they do..." she muttered, staring more closely. In the gleam of sodium lamps she saw the strips of bandages swathing every inch of her body. "Thank goodness they left my exoframes intact," she muttered, examining her hands. These strange wires and circuits enabled her body to survive in many gravity extremes, and provided temperature and electromagnetic control. But the shriveled flesh caught her attention the most of all.

"Bodily tissues... are necrotic," she gasped. "But my backup cybernetic systems are on line..."

She glanced again. Held up her hand and concentrated. The visual displays painted themselves into her eyelids. Yes. All on line. But the tissue was not alive. Just the circuits... She smiled grimly as she recalled the Egyptian respect for preserving the dead. Her experienced nose sniffed natrium and resins. The absence of body fluids was disturbing. How could she hope to exist now.

"The poor fools didn't know I was hibernating. Resting till my nanosystems repaired the organic tissue. But they preserved me. Too well...."

But there was a chance now. She glanced up at the stars choked out by the light pollution. They had shifted position ever so slightly. "Yes," she muttered to herself. "Three thousand years. That would account for the drift in constellation position."

She stared at one distant star. Wondered if they were still there, thinking about her. Why she had not returned from her last mission. So far in the past, light years from home.

"Come on, Trynia," she told herself as she searched the dumpster bins for discarded garments to conceal the bandages. "They couldn't interfere in history without proper authorization. I was told what to do if I was stuck..."

And those Egyptians had given her the chance to try again. Her eyes registered the strange electronic devices. Electromagnetic sensors on her cheek sensed the flux of computer systems talking over fiber optic cables. The flicker of CRTS in a nearby appliance store bore witness to technology. Still a bit crude, but far more workable than she had before. But with such technology came complex social organization. And help was hard to come by.

"Money is necessary. Shelter is necessary. And the welfare of this being is as well," she remarked. She rushed over to the well lit doorway of the large place. "Hospital. Should be the right sort of place for her..."

Shouting, she alerted the receptionist inside.

"Uh, what was the number of that truck that hit me," Amanda moaned. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the flapping of aged bandages as the mummy hovered over her.

"Please, this woman needs help. And so do several other people..." Trynia explained.

The orderlies stopped dead in their tracks. "It looks like you need more help than she does," said one EMT to the other.

"But I am fine..." said Trynia, then looked down at her bandages. "This woman has a concussion, and is suffering shock..."

"Let us be the judge of that, miss," said the EMT firmly as he pushed Trynia into a waiting wheelchair. He shouted to the others inside the large enclosure, and a swarm of people clustered about Trynia.

What gave her some relief was that Amanda was also being tended to.

* * *

Damia shivered. A brooding look came over her face as the Hot Ra pulled up to Presley's house. Lyris found her that way, only a few minutes later. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," she said.

"You can trust me..."

"I just had a sense... that Scarab... was involved in this," said Damia, shivering visibly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Lyris, putting an arm around her friend's shoulders.

Soon, Rath, Damia, and Lyris showed up at his door, disguised in street clothing. Together they walked the Prince up to the lit porch. "See ya," said Presley, and slipped inside. A red light flashed on the answering machine, indicating someone had called.

"Mom?" he called. "Mom, I'm ho-ome!"

Still no answer came in the silent house. Presley felt sick with worry when he picked up the phone and heard nothing but the message from the hospital on the machine. His hands found his amulet quickly.

"My Prince!" gasped Rath, as he rushed inside. "We came as soon as you summoned us...".

"Its my mom... she's in the hospital," said Presley, fighting back tears. "And..."

"Hey, it's okay, young Prince," said Lyris, putting an arm around him. "We'll take you to her. Don't worry."

Damia felt the same sickness as before. Scarab's face flashed mockingly into her mind. The old grizzled image of a man she once knew in a more intimate way... so long ago.

* * *

Trynia was pushed in a wheelchair along sterile white corridors. A peculiar smell twinged her nostrils, of disinfectant. "Strange world I have fallen into," she remarked, to none but herself in particular.

Flourescent lights buzzed and hummed overhead. As they passed by rows of people huddled against the wall, there was that same peculiar smell as before in the streets. A smell of urea and unwashed bodies. Trynia figured the odor from her body must be sweet by comparison. Kind hands thrust hot coffee into her grasp. She pulled the blanket over her face to shadow it. So as not to invoke fear from the native hominids. "Hey, she looks like she just got out of the burn ward," said one orderly, in a red and white apron. In one hand she carried a clipboard.

"I did," she said. "I was ejected from the..."

No one paid attention to her. "She came in from the street," said the orderly pushing her chair.

"Damn Medicare peddlers," said the girl in the red and white striped apron. "The nerve of people, sending patients out into the street without an overnight visit..."

"But I wasn't in the hospital," Trynia protested.

"Easy. Are you sure you weren't here before?" asked the girl.

"No... I...can't remember," said Trynia, hiding her face from the lights.

Patiently Trynia sipped at the caffeinated beverage as she was pushed along by other kindly hands. Into a room partitioned by a curtain. The girl in the red and white apron sighed, taking the wheelchair from one of the orderlies. There was the scraping swish of a curtain as Trynia was enclosed into the new space. Then the girl tried to take the blanket from the Trynia's face.

"I would not recommend that course of action," Trynia warned.

"Why not..."

"You might collapse from shock," said Trynia, as slipped the bandages from her neck around the one half of her face. "My face... is badly burned..."

"Believe me, when you work in a place like this, you get all kinds. Now let me have a look," she said cheerfully. The cloak fell away.

"Good grief, that must have been some fire you were in," gasped the aid.

"Yes. Burns on 65 % of my body," said Trynia. "Please, don't trouble yourself with that..."

"It's my good deed for the week," shrugged the girl. Her hands rummaged among the strange items to pull out various wraps of gauze. "Those bandages are totally grody enough as it is."

"I remember... some of what happened now," stammered Trynia.

"You do? It takes a few minutes."

"I feel... so detached and hazy..."

"Your hands are like ice," said the girl, taking Trynia's bandaged hand. "It's shock. It will pass."

"I seem to recall being on the streets for a long time. In trash... and there was this urine smell..."

"That would do it," she muttered, a faraway look in her eyes. Instantly she attacked Trynia's bandages with a pair of sharp scissors.

"I warned you it wasn't pretty," said Trynia with a sigh.

"I've seen everything working in the ER," said the girl. "Why there was one time at work when I saw this funny looking guy who some weirdo thought was a space alien. His bandages were as filthy as yours."

"Really?" asked Trynia, as the girl continued to snip. The wraps of centuries fell away in minutes as the girl peeled away the resin impregnated strips.

"Yeah. This goofball cop comes in when I'm changing this guy's bandages. He's a real crab act. I spent an hour redressing him, and he gives me grief. Says the bandages are too itchy. That he'd just broken the others in. You wouldn't believe how filthy they were..."

"I could."

"Say, these are just as bad," said the girl. Moving away for a moment, she fetched a basin from under the small sink. Water fizzed into the metal as she filled it. From a small bottle she sloshed an amount of yellow viscous soap. "I'm gonna have to sponge you off..."

"Er," muttered Trynia, unease in her eyes. Vigorously a wet sponge was applied to her skin. Soothing warmth radiated through her arm. Again the scissors attacked the layers of bandages on her legs. As the layers fell off, she took the time to wash the skin beneath. The girl wiped sweat off her brow. Then her eyes widened at the glimmer of metal that suddenly met her eyes. "What the heck?"

For the gold was now cleaned of the dust of centuries.

"Emergency procedure," Trynia explained. "These wires... are artificial limbs...."

"But I don't understand..." said the girl. "Who send you out in this condition."

"There was a man, who attacked me. And the woman who came in with me. Next thing I know I'm on the alleys, and pulling the woman here..."

"I bet I know. You've lost your memory due to the shock. And it's coming back in little pieces."

"Yes," said Trynia.

"You know what else is weird," said the aid, as she finished wrapping Trynia's legs in fresh bandages. "If I didn't know better, I'd say your skin... was almost mummified. But that's crazy..."

"Mummified?"

"Yeah. I just saw a program on Public TV. They had discovered a new mummy, and it had get this... prosthetic parts."

"Prosthetic parts?" asked Trynia.

"Yeah. Like they x-rayed it, and found pins in its legs. And hey... this is crazy..."

"What?"

"Care to explain this?" asked the girl, holding up a strangely shaped talisman. It was in the shape of a scarab beetle, covered in lapis lazuli. Hieroglyphics were scribed on its back as she turned it over. Trynia looked down to see the strange star-burst amulet with its lapis lazuli gleaming brightly. Other pieces of statuary had fallen amidst the wrappings strewn on the floor. The girl gasped in shock and surprise as her fingers found what appeared to be ancient talismans.

"Omigod!" she gasped. "You are a mummy! That one on television..."

"That's ridiculous," said Trynia. Inwardly she panicked as she registered the girl's revelation. Her hand clamped around the girl's arm. And her eyes fixed into the young woman's. "What the heck is going on here?" asked the girl, trying to pull away.

Brown eyes fixed firmly into hers. The girl felt strange images flickering over her eyes, as if she was seeing a movie. Then the glitter of gold seemed to burn and tumble in her mind. "There's nothing there," said Trynia softly. The girl blinked, and found that she'd completed the bandage wrapping.

"Gee, it's 6:30 already," she gasped, checked her watch. "You're all done. I'll take you up to the Doctor..."

Exhausted from the holographic projection, Trynia's head slumped over. She raised her newly bandaged hands to her head and tried to center herself. Why was she so drained? In her hands she clenched the strange bundle of talismans. She'd put them back as the girl had wrapped the gauze around her limbs again.

Egyptian mummies, Trynia thought, as she looked down at her wrappings. It was almost too hilarious. Here she was, an alien, and this woman thought she was a mummy? The amulet and arm-ring scribed with her name in a cartouche didn't help matters. And that hairstyle that looked like a Cleopatra cornrow was a dead giveaway.

* * *

"But Menne, it is not your place to worry about your guardian," Ja-Kal insisted.

"How can I just sit here when she may be in danger. I can feel it..."

Ja-Kal's amulet blared danger. "The Prince," he gasped. His eyes squeezed shut for a moment as he heard Rath's voice over the red stone.

Menne's eyes widened. "What..."

"Amanda's at the hospital. Scarab attacked...."

"No," gasped Mennehotep.

"I'll be right there," said Ja-Kal.

Nefer-Tina and Armon saw the look of shock and horror on his face. "Stay with the Princess," he said to them.

"But Ja-Kal," she said, trying to get up.

"Please, rest your Majesty," he said, holding her down on the bed with a firm hand. "I know you are anxious, but you won't do Trynia any good by being at less then your full strength to find her..."

"Ja-Kal, please..."

"Menne, I know how hard it is. But for my sake, rest..." he whispered. "I promise you we'll look for her while we're out. Surely Rath may be able to sense the presence of other mummies... now that we know what to look for..."

"He's right," said Nefer-Tina, hand on Menne's shoulder. "And while he's gone you can ask the Great Pyramid where she is..."

"Patience, your Majesty," soothed Ja-Kal, as he kissed Menne tenderly on her forehead. "It will be all right..."

* * *

Presley rushed into the hospital as his mother was rolled into another enclosure. His friends stayed back out of sight, determined not to catch the attention of the hospital staff.

"Mom," he cried, rushing into the enclosure.

"Honey, what are you doing here," said Amanda weakly as she looked at her son. Lyris slipped her face in. As she was wearing the special cosmetics given her by Menne, she could pass for human.

"This nice lady took me here," said Presley, indicating Lyris.

"Thank you... but do I know you?" asked Amanda, looking at Lyris.

"No. I'm from..."

"She knows my piano teacher," Presley said hastily. "Her name is Lyris... Lyris Greco..."

Lyris winced at the contrived name. But she had to do what the Prince said.

"What happened Mom?"

"I still can't make head or tail of it," said Amanda. "I remember that I was looking at the mummy with Dr. Aziz. Then someone attacked us, and broke a huge hole in the wall. The next thing I remember I end up here, with some woman in bandages looking over me."

"Did you say a woman in bandages?" asked Lyris, eyes widening.

"Yeah. Didn't get a good look at her..." said Amanda. "Hey, Presley, what is this all about?"

"I'm just glad you're okay Mom," he said quickly. "Are they gonna let you out soon?"

"In a few hours. Guess I'm stuck here till then," she sighed.

Presley glanced at Lyris, torn. She nodded, and slipped away. Biting his lip, he turned to his mother.

Outside the curtain, Damia and Rath stood nervously. Rath, despite his disguise with the cosmetics was on edge. "I knew it," she whispered to Rath. "It was scarab."

"How do you know?"

"I know, Rath. I can feel his magic in my bones," she shivered. "And Presley's mom is riddled with the traces of it."

"Hmm. I feel the foul stench myself," said Rath, holding onto a cup of coffee. Just then Lyris slipped out.

"How is she?" asked Damia.

"Fine. She remembers nothing. Except seeing a lady in bandages."

"Do you think?" said Damia.

"Does the Sphinx sit?" asked Rath.

* * *

Ja-Kal and Nefer-Tina moved into the main reception area. Rath met them halfway, concern in his face.

"Is she..."

"Alive and well," said Rath. "But there's been something very disturbing... Damia felt a trace of Scarab..."

"This is very bad," said Ja-Kal. "We must find that mummy at once..."

"Shouldn't we get Menne?" asked Damia. "She has a right to know what happened to Trynia..."

"Right," said Ja-Kal. "Rath, I will stay here with Nefer-Tina and guard the Prince. You must return with the others to the Sphinx, and inform Menne that we know what happened to the Mummy..."

"Now the only problem is finding her," said Damia quietly.

"It's nothing dear," said a woman's voice. They all closed their mouths as they saw the source.

Just then she saw Presley walking alongside a gurney. Amanda chuckled to her son, "A few hours ago I was x-raying that mummy. Now look where I am."

"Yeah Mom," laughed Presley. Behind them two cubits wandered Lyris. With but a look Nefer-Tina and Ja-Kal moved quietly into position in the waiting room. The silent changing of the guard was completed when Lyris joined Rath and Damia. The trio tiptoed out into the night.

* * *

A few enclosures down, Trynia was finally left alone. Thank goodness that aid was easily hypnotized. Trynia hated using her holographic imaging system like that, but she had little choice. She had to get out of this place, and plan her next move. But something that nurse aid said just seemed odd. The fact that she'd seen another such person swathed in bandages intrigued Trynia.

"Mummies," Trynia muttered. "Scarab. After 3500 years. I know there are life forms that live that long. But it is unusual for a hominid..."

Unless he was imbued with special recuperative powers that would slow his life cycle. Or prolong it. But such science was far in advance of the ancients. Or was it? She was impressed by the grasp of psychic power Egyptian wizards possessed. The degree of mind over matter was unsurpassed in ancient civilizations. Since the first civilization Atlantis she had studied many. How they valued science with magic. And mysticism.

"But animate necrotics are theoretically possible, if they possess a portable power source," said Trynia. She glanced down at her amulet. Her eyes fixed into the stone. If she concentrated her EM sensors she could detect the strange buildup in charge that was occurring there.

"The amulet must be a storage battery. Crude, but effective," said Trynia. But what was the source of the power? The x-rays?

And there was the fact of her cybernetic systems. Throughout her body existed networks of cybernetic workings. It was part of her people's work to improve themselves. They had achieved a fusion of human and machine. Any defects were supplemented by the relays. But the neurons were joined in special grafts at the source. And her mind was supplemented by a computer system, as a backup. But if she was mummified, she was dead. And only her computer system was keeping her alive. But she could sense the work of hundreds of tiny nanites as they struggled to renew the necrotic tissue.

"But I do sense the same EM signature," Trynia realized, as she concentrated. There were three such traces nearby. About 20 meters away. The same as her amulet.

"Mummies," she laughed. "Animate Necrotics."

* * *

It only took Damia a short time to return to the Sphinx. Menne looked much better this time, standing before the pyramid in the main chamber. "Tell me where my Guardian is..." she said. There was a series of turns, and then the answer was spelled out. "House of Healers," she read aloud.

"Hi, look who's on their feet," said Damia cheerfully.

"Greetings," said Mennehotep, turning to face the guardian. Rath and Lyris followed shortly behind. "I have found her..."

"That fast?" asked Lyris.

"You used... the Pyramid?" Rath said, mouth dropping open in surprise.

"It's hardly a complicated thing," said Mennehotep. "Why the number of times I saw you summon the location..."

"But I thought..." said Rath. "I thought..."

"Obviously you didn't think..." said Lyris, nudging him. "She said she could sense the Guardian..."

"And I must go to her. To the House of healing..." said Mennehotep.

"But we were just there..." said Rath. "Why didn't you..."

"The answer is simple," said Mennehotep. "I wish to be the one to find her..."

"Wait a minute, we can tell Ja-Kal," said Rath.

"No. She knows me. She may be afraid. I must go to her..."

"Don't you think you should alert Ja-Kal before you go gallivanting off..."

"OH, look out," said Damia. "She needs a note from mommy..."

"There's no need for that tone," sniffed Rath. "I simply think..."

"Oh, she needs your permission?" asked Damia, hands on her hips. "Like you are responsible for her?"

"Stop it," sighed Lyris. "This gets us nowhere..."

"But Ja-Kal told you to rest," said Rath.

"Since when does he outrank me?" asked Mennehotep. "I am a Princess, as you yourself often remind me..."

"Ad nauseam," added Lyris.

"Oh thank you," snapped Rath, glaring at her. "For your support..."

"We girls have to stick together," said Lyris, shrugging. "Let's go, Princess..."

"Oh, for the love of Thoth," sighed Rath, outnumbered.

* * *