by Geonn Cannon
Leola said, “Denny, help me load their things into the jeep. The museum keeps rooms for visiting dignitaries. I’ve arranged for you to borrow a couple for the duration of your stay. You can rest and freshen up, and then we can get started.”
“You’ve gone above and beyond for unexpected guests,” Trafalgar said.
Leola’s features darkened. “Yes, well, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be here. I sent you the ka statue in the first place.”
Dorothy said, “And a good thing you did. If this happened while the ka statue was still in Egypt, Amenemhat may have been able to fulfill his mission before he was discovered. Who knows what he might have done? You sent him to us and, in doing so, slowed him down long enough for us to get ahead of him. Even if that wasn’t your intention, you may have turned the tide of our encounter with him.”
Leola nodded her gratitude to Dorothy. “One can only hope. Come. You must be exhausted.”
“Indeed.” Dorothy said, “Lead the way.”
#
The Valkyrie caught up with the jeep when they were halfway to Cairo. Dorothy and Trafalgar both turned to watch as it sped up on them, the powerful engine sweeping sand off the road. They waved as Mazzi passed overhead, and she stuck one arm out to the side in farewell as she continued on. The plane banked hard to the west and was soon just a glint of sun on metal in the far distance.
“It’s a hell of a plane!” Denny said without looking away from the road.
“Once you get past the discomfort of being exposed to the elements,” Dorothy said, “it is quite a thrilling ride.”
Trafalgar added, “Given you have the leg room.”
“Yes, given that,” Dorothy admitted. She reached up, expecting she would need to tame her hair, but was again reminded of one more benefit she gained from being in a man’s body. If she felt she could get away with a shorter cut in her female form, she would do it in a heartbeat. Unfortunately the fact she preferred trousers to dresses was already too scandalous for some. If she actually styled herself as a man, the rumors would make it impossible for her to serve as Desmond’s beard.
They passed a group of veiled women on the edge of Cairo, protestors in favor of making Egypt independent. It was the only sign of the revolution they saw between the so-called airstrip and the small red-brick building where they would be staying. Dorothy hauled both her and Trafalgar’s bags from the backseat and shook Trafalgar off when she reached for her own.
“I can handle it. Another thing I’ll miss about having this physique. Men can be quite handy pack mules.”
“Just be careful you don’t strain poor Desmond past his abilities. And try not to be too comfortable in his body.”
Dorothy said, “Trust me, any conveniences I’m enjoying will be far outweighed by the comfort of being myself again.” She looked to make sure Leola and Denny weren’t within eavesdropping distance. Denny was speaking Arabic with the proprietor of the hotel. “Although I do fear there might be concern about bleed-through. Desmond’s thoughts, memories, mannerisms... if I remain in this body long enough, my consciousness may fade. There have been moments in which I’m completely at peace with the situation. If that should happen, I’m counting on you to do the right thing and put things right. For Desmond’s sake.”
“I’m honored you would trust me with something of that magnitude.”
“Really? Even now, after all we’ve been through? My lord, Trafalgar, at this point, your main purpose in this partnership is saving my life when I’ve gotten in over my head.”
Trafalgar chuckled. “I’m still waiting for you to repay those favors.”
“In due time.”
They were taken upstairs to their rooms. Trafalgar and Leola were obviously eager to catch up, so Dorothy asked Denny to join her in her room.
Denny threw open the curtains to reveal the view. “It’s not much, I’m afraid, but it’s quite beautiful at sunset.”
“I can imagine.” Dorothy watched Denny move and, with a glance at the door to make sure they were still alone, lowered her voice. “May I ask you a question? You can refuse to answer but, if you do answer, I promise it will be kept in the strictest of confidences.”
Denny looked nervous. “Okay.”
“Why do you present yourself as male?”
Denny stared at her for a long moment, then laughed nervously. “I-I’m not... I’m not sure what you mean.”
Dorothy said, “I only ask because I’m uncertain if it’s out of necessity, a woman working in a man’s world and all that, or if it’s because you’re correcting how you were born.”
“I’m not... presenting...”
“I shouldn’t have asked. I apologize.”
“I’m male.”
Dorothy looked at him for a long moment, reading the meaning behind those two words. She nodded. “Very well. I hope I didn’t cause you any embarrassment. I merely thought if it was a ruse, I would reassure you it isn’t necessary around Trafalgar or myself. But now that I know the truth, I won’t bring it up again.”
Denny cleared his throat, refusing to meet her eye. “How did you know?”
“I’m a woman. I have intuition about this sort of thing.” Denny’s eyes snapped back to her and Dorothy rolled her eyes. “Oh, crumbs. I forgot myself. Ah, I... I am, in fact, Lady Dorothy Boone. I’m the one whose body was stolen by Amenemhat using the ka statue.”
“I see. Amazing. How did it...” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Sorry, no. There will be plenty of time for that later. You need to sleep after your long journey. You can wash up through here... you share the washroom with Miss Trafalgar. Do you want something to eat?”
“Perhaps after I’ve slept. But I would like to send a telegram. Would that be possible?”
“Of course.”
Dorothy had written out a message to Beatrice at their last fuel stop. She handed it over along with the address. She was truly starting to worry about the silence coming from London. If Beatrice hadn’t responded by that evening, she would call up the final member of the Mnemosyne Society, Ivy Sever, and ask her to check the house. Beatrice’s injury hadn’t seemed so dire when they left. In fact she seemed a few hours away from a complete recovery. If there had been complications, if the injury had been worse than it seemed... if Beatrice had been alone...
“Professor? Er, Lady Boone...? What should I call you?”
She snapped back to reality and realized she’d been holding out the address for nearly thirty seconds. She swallowed the lump in her throat and placed the paper in Denny’s outstretched hand.
“I’m sorry. I was... my thoughts ran away with me. In private, you may call me Dorothy. In public, Professor would be preferable. Easier than explaining to everyone what has occurred.”
“Of course. I’ll see that this gets sent right away.”
“Thank you for all your help, Denny.”
Denny smiled and touched his eyebrow in a quick salute. “After all the stories I’ve heard about you, Lady Boone, it’s an honor to play any small role in one of your adventures. Rest well.”
Once he was gone, Dorothy closed the curtains Denny had just opened and undressed down to her underwear. She held her arms out in front of herself, admiring the musculature and the way they moved when she flexed her fingers. She rolled her shoulders and stood on her toes. If they failed, or if they had to cause physical harm to stop whatever he planned, perhaps remaining in Desmond’s body wouldn’t be the absolute worst thing in the world. She went to the mirror and examined his face. His eyes were quite beautiful.
“The beard would have to go,” she muttered, watching Desmond’s lips form her words. It was startling how normal it looked.
She shuddered violently and pushed away from the mirror.
“No. God, no, this body is not mine. Desmond will be returned to his proper body when this is all said and done, no matter what that means for me.”
She went to the bed, pushed back the blankets, and stretched out on top of the mat
tress. She laced her fingers behind her head and closed her eyes. In a week’s time, she would either be back in her proper body or she would be residing in the ka statue again. There was no third option.
Chapter Eleven
Dorothy dreamed.
In the dream, they were still in Egypt but she was in her proper body. When Mazzi asked if they needed her to stick around, Dorothy requested she stay so they could get to know one another better. The dream was disjointed, like discovering lost memories instead of reliving each moment. In the dream she brought Mazzi back to her borrowed room. She watched herself undo the buttons of the leather flight jacket, exposing the wrinkled white T-shirt underneath. She could almost hear the pilot’s voice cooing Italian terms of endearment in her ear as they moved toward the bed.
“I didn’t think you would mind, Professor,” she whispered, her hand sliding up Dorothy’s stomach.
Dorothy said, “Professor...?”
“Would you prefer ‘Desmond’?”
Dorothy opened her eyes and realized that Mazzi actually was in bed with her, that the pilot was nearly topless save for a thin slip, and her fingertips had just moved underneath the elastic of the boxer shorts. Desmond’s body was doing horrible and awful things in response to her presence. She recoiled away from Mazzi’s wandering hand, grabbing the pillow and pressing it over her groin as she slid off the mattress onto the floor. Mazzi sat up, amusement turning to confusion as she watched Dorothy retreat to the wall.
“What on earth are you doing?”
Mazzi said, “I thought... the way you spoke to me, the way you looked at me. I thought you were merely shy or worried about propriety.” She folded her legs under her and sat up. “There’s no need to worry about that with me. I want you as well. I thought surprising you this way would be proof enough to put your mind to ease.”
“I don’t... I’m...” Desmond’s sexuality was not her secret to spill, even if it might solve her current predicament. “I’m engaged to Lady Boone.”
“I’ve heard enough stories about Lady Dorothy Boone that I’m not worried about insulting her.”
Dorothy briefly forgot herself. “Stories? What stories?”
Mazzi sighed. “Oh, Desmond, please. I don’t judge her. I’ve had dalliances in the past myself. Women are just so...” She smiled and ran a hand up her own thigh, momentarily lost in her thoughts. “I know that many would shun her for what she is, and you should be commended for helping divert the suspicion of gossips. But surely you have urges of your own temptations.” She moved on her knees to the edge of the bed. “Let me take care of them.”
“Well.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to adjust the pillow without letting it make contact with her overstimulated flesh. “I... do think you’re an immensely attractive woman. And under other circumstances...” She sighed wistfully. “Oh, god, if these circumstances were at all different... but they’re not. The situation is far more complex than you could possibly imagine.”
“Do you not like aggressive women?”
Dorothy’s laugh dissolved into a groan. “Oh, I adore aggressive women.”
Mazzi climbed off the bed and approached her. “So...”
“So there are extenuating circumstances. Consent, for one.”
“Consent? Desmond, you can do whatever you wish to me. I’ve been thinking about it since Rome, in fact.”
Dorothy cringed away from her. “Yes, you’ve made your willingness exceptionally clear. But you’re not working with a complete set of facts. And without going into details, I’m... there isn’t...” She closed her eyes. “Desmond cannot consent to his body being used in this manner.”
That brought Mazzi up short. “What in blazes are you talking about?”
Dorothy sighed. “I’m not Desmond Tindall. I’m merely borrowing his body until I can retrieve my own. I am actually Dorothy Boone.”
Mazzi’s eyes widened. She backed up a step.
“So you see, you would not have been consenting to be intimate with me, and Desmond could not consent to being used for the act. So, yes, while there is an undeniable, ah, physical response, it does not mean I have permission to carry on.”
“This is amazing. You actually traded bodies?”
Dorothy said, “It was more of a shuffling, but basically. Yes.”
Mazzi scanned the floor and retrieved her discarded jacket. “I’m going to choose to believe you, because there are about a thousand other lies that would be far simpler. You could have told me you found me unattractive...”
“That would have been the least believable thing I could have said, Miss Mazzi.”
She smiled and held the jacket in front of her. “I apologize for intruding on your space. In every meaning of the word.”
“Apology accepted. And as I said, under ordinary circumstances, this would have been an incredibly welcome surprise.”
“I suppose I understand. Would a kiss be entirely out of the question?”
Dorothy smiled. “I think I can explain away a kiss.”
Mazzi stepped forward and placed her hand on Dorothy’s cheek. Her fingers teased the beard as she pressed her lips to Dorothy’s. The kiss was brief but long enough for Dorothy to regret her current circumstances. She smiled and brushed her free hand down Mazzi’s arm. Mazzi ran her tongue over her bottom lip and then looked into Dorothy’s eyes.
“When things have, ahm, settled down, back to normal? Maybe you can call me? And not about using the plane?”
Dorothy smiled. “That could be arranged.”
Mazzi nodded and moved to the door. She stopped before she left and said, “And thank Professor Tindall for the kiss when you speak to him again.”
“I’ll thank him for the both of us.”
Mazzi blew her a kiss and then left the room.
Dorothy blew out a sigh of relief and frustration, then sat on the bed. She kept the pillow on her lap to prevent herself from having to see the lingering evidence of Mazzi’s visit. She grimaced.
“And what am I supposed to do with you?” she whispered. She grew up with brothers, so of course she knew of one approach that could be taken. But would it go away on its own if she just ignored it? She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.
She didn’t care what else Amenemhat had planned. She was going to make him pay for putting her in such an awkward position.
#
Amenemhat ignored the knocking for as long as he could, but eventually he knew he would have to deal with whoever was outside Paul’s quarters. It wasn’t ideal. He would have nowhere to retreat, but the door created a bottleneck. He could defeat an angry mob if they came at him one at a time. He’d considered escaping when the ship had stopped in a port for nearly a day, but in the end he decided to remain where he was. The crew had come to the conclusion he was nobody to be trifled with once their compatriots began disappearing, and they seemed to be giving him plenty of space. But now someone had spent the last eight minutes standing at his door, refusing to be placated, and it was time to address the issue.
He picked up a stone paperweight and placed it in his back pocket. Paul also had a firearm, and Amenemhat checked to make sure it was loaded. He wasn’t confident in the usage of such a weapon but it seemed simple enough. He felt Dorothy’s ability and the fact he would be using it in close quarters would cover for any incompetence.
He opened the door and stared out at the deckhands and other crewmembers who crowded the corridor. He stood so they could see the gun held by his side, but none of them made a move forward. On the contrary, the ones on the front line cringed back as soon as the door swung open. One of them even showed the palms of his hands, as submissive a gesture as Amenemhat could imagine.
“What?” he said.
“We don’t want to disturb you,” the lead man said. “But we thought a conversation was in order.”
“Speak.”
He cleared his throat and looked at his friends for support. “We’ve realized you’ve killed a couple of us
. Men who, ah, took liberties or spoke out of turn. Last night a few men decided to ambush you as soon as you showed your face, but they... well, the ones who came back, they convinced us that this would be a better choice.”
Amenemhat barely remembered the group. He hadn’t been sleeping well; every time he closed his eyes, his memory was flooded with scenes from Boone’s life. He would wake certain that she’d somehow regained control of her body. He thought taking a walk on deck might ease his mind, but the crew had been waiting. One of them had grabbed him from behind, but he went limp and slid out of his grasp. From the ground, he had kicked out two kneecaps and grabbed a handful of bollocks to disable three men in one move. He hadn’t given it much thought because the others had fled immediately. He thought the matter was settled.
“We figure all of us could eventually take you down...”
He tensed, and the crewman held up his hands to stop an attack.
“But! But... but we didn’t know who would, uh, who would be willing to be one of those you take down, savvy? So if there’s a way we can get you off the ship without no one getting hurt, then that’s the best plan of attack. We want you gone, get it? Safer for everyone if we just forget you exist, lady. So if you tell us where you’re going, we’ll make sure you get there as soon as humanly possible. No stops, no delays, just a straight shot to wherever.”
He scanned the men looking for signs of duplicity, but they all looked legitimately frightened.
“Cairo.”
“Right. Cairo. That’s where we were heading anyway. We just weren’t sure if you planned to jump ship early, or...” He smiled nervously. “But uh. I’ll tell the captain. We’ll set a course and we can have you there in just two more days. Will that work?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Just... just don’t kill any more of us, okay? We’ll stay out of your way, you stay out of ours, and when we hit sand, we never have to see each other again.”
Amenemhat stepped back and shut the door in their face. A moment later he heard the shuffle of boots on the deck, whispered voices receding as the men fled. He smiled and returned his weapons to the desk. That had gone tremendously well, he had to admit. He would arrive in Egypt in half the time originally estimated. His foes would have a smaller window in which to foil him, and he wouldn’t have to spend a minute longer on this infernal metal prison than necessary.