h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

What's wrong with the liner blowing up there? I loved it...the fact that all these villains can't be cooped up on a ship without doing terrible things and blowing it up. It's my favourite Sreka moment, bashfully, gradually admitting how much he did up on the captain's deck...the explosion, the image of the liner shedding passengers and ploughing through the lines of honking oil tankers...

Mary yawned like a cat and surveyed her worried troops. Day was dawning, Cairo was clearly visible under a haze of pollution on the horizon and Anna was nowhere to be found. The group had met on the pool deck at the bow of the cruise ship to coordinate their efforts, after combing the entire ship. Early-rising Germans draped towels over the deck-chairs around them and chuckled wickedly.

"Gentlemen, you've been searching all night and turned up nothing. Any thoughts?"

"This is ridiculous," snarled Von Trapp. He was in an especially foul mood since the onboard cinemas had been showing 'The Sound of Music', and the songs were all stuck in his head. "She cannot have gotten away! In case it has escaped anyone's notice, we are on a..."

He was interrupted by some shouts from the very front of the deck. Scantily-clad Germans were pointing and barking questions. Wandering over, the villains saw a coastguard boat skipping along ahead of the cruise ship. A loudspeaker screamed in Egyptian, then switched to English.

"...I repeat, you must respond to our radio messages. Ahoy there, ahoy there, the captain and crew, you must alter your course immediately. You have left your designated route and are cutting dangerously across major shipping lanes, please respond, I repeat..."

Somewhere to starboard a ship's horn blared. Hurrying to the opposite rail, they saw a massive oil tanker sheering off at a dangerous angle, the rails lined with gesticulating Argentinians.

Mary folded her arms and looked stern. "Does anybody know anything about this? Daltmooreby?"

The old spy ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. Sreka was the one covering the upper decks and the control room..."

"Sreka?"

The Russian shrugged and lit a skinny black cigarette. "Ah, the captain, the sailors up there, they kept asking questions, you know. Asking to see the ID. I could get no work done."

The ship lurched as it smashed through a small fishing boat. Screams of protest and alarm began to be heard as more tourists poured onto the decks.

Von Trapp pinched his nose. Some things were inevitable if you put enough villains in a confined space. Mary rounded on Sreka and wagged a finger under his nose.

"What did you do?"

He stepped backwards, holding his hands up. "Hey, I just tied them up, gagged them, hmm? So they would stop with the shouting and the threats."

"Well, you get back up there and untie them at once!"

Sreka squinted and tipped his head from side to side. "This will be difficult."

Mary's serene expression was like the sea withdrawing from the beach before a tidal wave. "And why is *that*?"

"I may have punctured a few gas pipes on my way out. Some of them saw my face, you know..."

There was a flash of light then a deafening roar, as the top deck of the cruise ship turned into a ball of fire. Shrapnel and debris began to rain down on the deck, splashing in the pool and squashing tourists where they lay defending their deckchairs. The crowd screamed as one and surged towards the railings, with some unlucky souls being pushed in.

Von Trapp snapped, and fumed."I'll kill you, you Russian toad!"

He palmed a flat dagger from his sleeve, tossed it end over end and it was inches from Sreka's throat when he flung up his wrist and caught the razor-sharp blade on a slim diamond bracelet that his sleeve had hidden. At the same instant, Mary bellowed: "Stop!" Sreka grinned like a wolverine, plucking the card from the bracelet.

"Oh yes. I'm ready for you, bald man. Any time you feel like proving your *balalaikas* with me..." Von Trapp snarled, and Mary interrupted.

"Nobody is killing anybody! Sreka! Von Trapp, I am disappointed! I thought we were professional people, here..." A twisted, flaming piece of wreckage landed a foot away from her, and she didn't blink. "What we must do now..."

Vanderveer cleared his throat. "We do not have so many oil refineries in the Dutch Polders, but I think that is one. There. In our path."

The cruise ship was ploughing its merry way through the heart of Cairo's industrial shipping amidst screams, recriminations and the dull drone of police helicoptors. Dead ahead lay a complex of pipelines, tanks and fuelling depots. It promised to be a big explosion, even by supervillain standards.

"Right," said Mary, then she strode across to the nearest lifeboat. She kicked aside the frantic tourist who was scrabbling at it, ripped off the orange tarpaulin covering it and nearly lost an eye as Anna screamed and lunged at her with a broken bottle. She recovered from the shock, knocked the bottle from Anna's hand and laid her out professionally with a blow to the temples.

"If you want something done properly..." she said, casting a critical eye over her shamefaced team. Then she pushed Anna's limp body into the bottom of the boat. She read the stencilled instructions, and tutted.

"According to the weight requirements, it can only take four. One of us must stay behind."

She tapped a a fingernail against her lips for a moment, then drew a silenced pistol and shot Sreka in the left shin. He howled and dropped to the deck, twitching and bleeding. Mary nudged him with his feet until he was facing her.

"Andre, you can meet us at the hotel. I pray you can swim. Come on, boys."

The rest of the villains piled into the boat, exchanging winks and grins with the moaning Sreka, then Mary hit the auto-release and they plunged into the ocean. Moments later, a bloody hand gripped the rail and Sreka pulled himself painfully to his foot. He coughed, and snarled into the empty air:

"I qualified for the Russian Olympic swimming team in 1980. My speciality was the breaststroke. You'll be seeing me again, you nekulturny ginger witch. And we'll be talking about that bullet."

At this, he launched himself over the side and into the ship's churning wake.

A few minutes later the oil refinery explosion was indeed devastating - two neighbourhoods were razed, and the thick black mushroom cloud could be seen for miles. Pundits commentated that the ecological effects would be devastating, and that several species of Nile birds could become extinct.

Sreka gave a little sigh of professional satisfaction, and started swimming for the shore.

ah....well my thinking was it sort of arrived somewhat suddenly - but legion you're my first editorial quibble so I'm open to discuss it. I make these changes and ask for opinions. Thus far no-one's complained.

I can put back the explosion if it's that important to you.

I'll take th edited version supplied - but I'll need to edit out Daltmooreby since he is supposed to be with Slepp tailing Ody.

All fixed.

A13649493

Great big explosions arriving suddenly make for a rather neat little action scene, or so I thought. Thanks for restoring it. I included Daltmooreby? I must really have been dozing that day...

Having re-read it now with your complaint in mind I "get" the "cooped up villains" vibe which I admit I didn't quite understand before.

anyhoo I'm off to go and downsize the turqoise Moon from a geode to an empty plinth.

Here is my re-write of the Turqoise Moon scene (no more Giant Geode) but hopefully this should tie up with the diamond coming from Egypt to Switzerland to Holmes and ultimately Mycroft and Watson

I've also written a bit more of a backstory for Fort-Willaim before he gets assasinated so Arthur and X start to get a bit more of a grasp on "the cult" and hints of the overall plot.

A13656206

I've just now completed re-writing the sequence where Daltmooreby liberates a "fake" Turqoise Moon from Ody and Jamilla.

I hope I've made his duplicity a little more explicit and that we can make more use of later in the story. Thematically this ties into the scene where he considers garrotting Slepp while he sleeps. Relevant Excerpts Below.....

and that is all for tonight.

________________________________________________________

(From Chapter 27)
Later that morning...

The whirr of the ceiling fan caused Daltmooreby to stir fittfully from his sleep. Groaning aloud at the realisation, he rolled over dragging the cotton sheet with him.

The Cairo heat was too much for this time of year.

With great reluctance and the onset of arthiritus in his left knee he dragged himself out of bed and staggered into the bathroom. He drew the light on with the dial and leaned on the sink. He had deep dark rings beneath his eyes, the skin of his face here and there folding in little flaps, his wirey eyebrows grey and tatty and without his wig to cover it, the last dregs of hair atop his scalp ran in long wavey mattes around his crown.

He hadn't slept well. All the while on the plane, the thought of what lay in the desert troubled him. Afflicted now by jetlag, it was all he could do to keep such thoughts at bay. Sleep came if he was lucky. Otherwise he just lay there neither truly awake nor asleep, the nightmare's wracking his mind.

Would his son hate him?

Would his son even remember him?

He couldn't decide which fate he cared for less.

He gargled some tepid water from the tap and spat it into the basin. He turned of the light and returned the bedroom. Daltmooreby grabbed the small travel clock off the bedside cabinet and squinted at the numbers.

2.37am.

"God!" he thought. "How I hate the night!"

"Yelena used to love the night."

The thought was unbidden and utterly unwanted. He drew his knees into his chest and hugged himself. By the slat of the moonlight Daltmooreby shed a tear for his dead wife.

"I am a traitor." he whispered to himself. "Yelena. Forgive me!"

In his personal solitude Daltmooreby was suddenly disturbed by a loud snore from Slepp Tonnajob curled up like a baby on the sofa.

A sudden rush of energy to his limbs, Daltmooreby felt the adrenaline.

"How many more betrayals do I have left in me, I wonder?" murmed Daltmooreby, and edged off the bed. Silent as a shadow he walked over to the unconsciouss form of Slepp. Another gutteral snore rippled through the room.

Daltmooreby bent down and pulled out a shoelace from the assassin's shoe. He wound it tight around his thumbs in a garot.

"There's nothing stopping me." he said quietly to himself.

He paused the fabric taught between his hands.

"Nothing but time. I must bide my time."

He dropped the shoelace on the floor and went back to bed.

He looked over again at the clock.

2:46am

"Patience" he said rolling over "is a virtue after all."

The fan carried on whirring....





--------------------------


(From Chapter 33)

Several hours later and dawn had arrived and left the sun rising into the sky.

Ody woke with a start.

The pain arrived a few moments later.

His head throbbed as though his brain was trying to escape from his skull by pounding on his eyeballs.

There was a fire in his chest, he couldn't breathe.

"ow!" he mutter meekly.

The tent flap was pulled back and Jamilla peered in.

"Your awake - at last."

Ody propped himself up on his elbows.

"Hurts." he said, wincing.

"I'm not surprised." Jamilla said sadly, stepping inside "It was awfully brave, what you did."

"Hmm?" asked Ody still a bit groggy.

"That man...the impostor. Don't you remember?"

"s'a bit foggy." Ody conceded, waving his hand around to indicate amnesia brought on by concussion.

We showed him where the cover-stone to the chamber was and he got Haziz and the others to remove it. He sent them away and it was just the three of us - is this jogging any memories?"

Ody swung his legs off the camp-bed, and stood up very shakily on his feet, arms outstretched for balance. He stumbled over to a basin unit and doused himself in water from the bowl and looked up into the mirror. He touched his scalp gingerly and winced at the bruise. The skin hung in dark rings under his eyes and his stubble was growing to beard-length.

"You look terrible" Jamilla confirming what Ody was beginning to suspect through thoughts as tangible as running water.

Ody, with his hands resting on the bowl, half out of exhaustion and half to stop himself falling over in case his legs gave out underneath him. Slowly came to say "what happened?"

"He had a gun." Jamilla started to recall...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daltmooreby watched as the last of the workers disappeared into the nest of tents at the camp. He turned back to face his son and the woman They were whispering to each other.

In front if him lay the recently re-discovered slap covering the Altar of The Dying Pilchard...and within.

"Dr Najil, Dr Daltmooreby , you will both accompany me down into the Cave." he commanded and threw at her feet several lengths of length of climbing rope and rappels.

Jamila attached the three ropes securely and Jamila went down first followed by Ody then Daltmooreby Senior followed them.

Inside the Caven, Daltmooreby had Ody switch on the lights. The Turqoise lightbeams criss-crossed across the room once more illuminating every nook and cranny.

"Oh my." Daltmooreby Senior said, eyes as large as saucers.

"Which one is..."

"Find it yourself." Jamila said angrily.

"I intend to do no such thing." Daltmooreby Sr said sinceerly.

"You on the otherhand wil find it for me Dr Najil - and you will hurry."

She folded her arms set her jaw fierce, her eyes blazed.

..."and you will fetch me the Turquoise Moon."

"I will do no such thing!" she protested

"You will. And you will hurry."

"Find one diamond out of all of these? "Impossible!" she protested

Daltmooreby cut her off. "Wrong. Quite possible. It's all a matter of having the right...motivation." He produced the revolver from his belt and pointed it at his son.

"Now start looking."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ody was sat on the edge of the camp-bed his face a mask of horrified concern at the story Jamila was telling.

"He wasn't messing around that guy, I was afraid he was going to shoot you Ody."

"I would have been alright." Ody sought to reassure her.

"No! Don't you see that man wasn't from the Ministry - He was justa thief trying to get his hands on The Moon."

"Did he leave with the diamond?" Ody asked holding his head.

He left with *a* diamond. Jamila said smugly. "The Empty Plinth remember? The Turqoise Moon was removed from that Chamber long before we ever got there."

"He didn't suspect you'd given him a dud?"

No, not really. On the contrary, he seemed very pleased with the one I chose...."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jamila Najil pointed out at random on of the diamond spheres on top of one of the many pillars that dotted the Turqoise Moon Chamber.

"This one." she said. All the others have minute flaws but this one is perfect. It usually sits on top of the Empty Plinth, why it was moved we don't know. Possibly to hide it's true nature from...thieves

"You are far too judgemental my dear."

Daltmooreby held up the diamond sphere. "This is surely The Turqoise Moon!" he exclaimed.

"..and I am merely returning it to it's rightful owners: The Cult of The Dying Pilchard."

"The inscription!" shouted Ody shocked.

"What Cult?" Jamila cried out.

"We are older than you can realise - The Cult...have lain claim to The Tuqoise Moon for centuries - and now at last it will return to where it belongs.

"That diamond belongs in a museum." Ody said fiercely stepping toward the imposter.

Jamila shouted "Ody don't!"

Ody threw a wild punch which the man easily side-stepped. Ody glanced to his left and caught sight of the butt of the gun catching him on his temple, then it all went swimmy and dark and he dropped onto the stone floor with a sound like "urgh!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Then what happened?" Ody asked.

"He called you something." Jamilla was struggling to recall, "'Junior!' I think it was. Then he said: 'I won't kill you. Not you.'

I was shocked - I didn't know what to do. You were just laying there. He took the diamond and climbed back up the rope and ran off, I thought of going after him but..you were bleeding and.."

"It's okay." he said standing to comfort her, she let him take her in his arms and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Ody who was that man?"

Ody looked up, out through the open tent at the horizon. Jamila stayed with her head resting on his shoulder. They loked like Janus the two-faced Roman God. Which was appropriate. Ody said nothing.

---------------------------------

Daltmooreby walked out of the desert, with the sun rising, and a large diamond in his possession, and his coat slung over his shoulder.

"This is surely the Turqoise Moon!" he chuckled to himself out of earshot from the entirity of civilisation.

"I am a traitor - oh yes. Yelena, forgive me." and he shrugged up at the fluffy white clouds clustering in the sky.

He saw that Slepp was waiting on the edge of the desert with a car.

"Did you get The Turqoise Moon?" the assassin asked concerned.

"Certainly did." Daltmooreby lied. It what he was best at, really. "Do you want to see it?"

"No," said the assassin. "Mr Vandeveer and The Nun should be the first."

"You are so loyal." Daltmoore complimented his partner, "and you are right. I'll give it to them myself," and climed into the back seat.

Slepp put the car in gear and they drove off.

Daltmooreby patted the diamond in a satchel by his lap and took the chance to gaze out of the rear window at the retreating sands, a wicked smile flashed across his face and then vanished.

Rather than use a footnote, I've spent this morning creating an extra page I can link to if we need to provide links to explain something about the plot between ST2 and ST3.

A13677203

I've also just now tweaked that scene above of Daltmooreby emerging from the desert with the flawwed diamond.

Now, he doesn't mention to Slepp he has a diamond only the co-ordiantes to where the real Turqoise Moon is hidden.

And when I get to it, I'll tweak the van scene of the Cult leaving Cairo, so that Daltmooreby shows the flawwed diamond to Von Trapp and Mary but Slepp again doesn't see it.

The reason is, I was reading ahead and re-read Slepp's death scene and it occured to me Carnarvon wouldn't be able to persuade Slepp to pick up one of the cursed diamonds if Slepp wasn't still in the mind-set of looking for The Turqoise Moon. This he wouldn't be in, if he belived Daltmooreby had already found it (even if the diamond Daltmooreby has is also not *the* Turqoise Moon.)

I just realised something.

Around posts #900 we discuss having Anna arrive on the helicopter that comes to pick the agents off the island with Bob and Heddingly and Jill, and her running through flare fog swilred around by rotor blades into Arthur's arms.

I was thinking about this - would it be better to have her been picked up in Cairo by The Agency and she rejoins Arthur at the end. Now that to me seems the more sensible and less perilous route for her that being locked in the dungeon in Antartica and the convoluted "kidnapped again" route we took to get her there.

It also means that come the space battle with Daltmooreby, Arthur and he can trade blows about having "lost" someone becasue Arthur will really believe he has - and we won't have to write any cut-away scenes about what Anna is doing or explain how she gts onto the shuttle with Arthur and X.

It'd mean deleting all mention of her in the sequences with Grobsvaun and Annabell but I'm thinking that might be a small price to pay to give us a beter shot at writing the the ending and to give Arthur's revelation a real punch to have her come back alive and well at the end.

What do you guys think?

I've done some more re-jigging to clear up some of the mess that we created for ourselves around Arthur and X visiting Ody and Jamilla in the camp and I've made some more changes to accoutn for the new description of the fake Turqoise Moon.

Apologies for the long post, but it's probably best you read it all through rather than me givng you the edited highlights...

Clive.

--------------------------------------

(end of chapter 33) *I've edited this slightly from before to keep the diamond obscured from Slepp so to further the alienation of Vandeveer and his henchmen and also to underscore Daltmooreby's manouverings as the depp-cover Ozymandias spy.*
--------------------------------

Daltmooreby walked out of the desert, with the sun rising, and a large diamond in his possession, and his coat slung over his shoulder.

"This is surely the Turqoise Moon!" he chuckled to himself out of earshot from the entirity of civilisation.

"I am a traitor - oh yes. Yelena, forgive me." and he shrugged up at the fluffy white clouds clustering in the sky.

He saw that Slepp was waiting on the edge of the desert with a car.

"Did you get the co-ordinates for Turqoise Moon?" he asked concerned.

"Certainly did." Daltmooreby lied. It what he was best at, really. "We could go there right now."

"No," said the assassin. "Mr Vandeveer and The Nun should be the first."

"You are so loyal." Daltmoore complimented his partner, "and you are right. I'll take them there myself," and climed into the back seat.

Slepp put the car in gear and they drove off.

Daltmooreby took the chance the rest his hand on the melon-sized diamond hidden in a cloth satchel he had carried over his shoulder and now sat beside him on the back seat. Slepp didn't suspect a thing. Daltmooreby gazed out of the rear window at the retreating sands, a wicked smile flashed across his face and then vanished.

------------------------------------

(Chapter 39)

Jamila popped open the tent flap and walked in with some water. She spotted Arthur wincing, sitting up on the camp bed, and Ody talking to another stranger in a suit.

Only a casual glance acknowledged she was in the room which made the newcomers miss her eyes tightening in suspicion before handing each of the men a glass. She rested against one of the tent's beams to listen.

Ody's mouth formed a sideways smile - she was suspicous. So was he - and looked to sit.

"Here." said X helpfully and offered his seat. The archeologist nodded a thank you to X who stood up, examining the room. If he was anywhere else Arthur probably would have appreciated his partner's casual attempt to listen in.

Ody pulled the chair up to Arthur - "You said we knew each other - I don't see how?"

"No, no of course you wouldn't." Arthur stretched painfully "and I confess I never expected to ever to cross paths with you ever again."

"Oh?"

Arthur winced and his mind breathed out in preperation. The Guilt came flooding back, as it had done in the desert. It welled up in him like a tidal wave washing over an archipelago, unstoppable. He started to speak when X gagged on his drink while looking at a diploma.

Jamila took the glass from his hands, smiling politely.

"I'll get you another."

"Than -cough- you." She disappeared out of the tent and X looked at Arthur who was.... unreadable.

Ody raised his eyebrow and turned back to Robinson.

Arthur searched for words.

"I knew your family back in Germany."

"I've not thought about Germany in...years. It's funny you don't have an accent." Ody said.

"I was just passing through."

"So you knew my father then?"

"By reputation mostly. We were never that close."

Ody looked at the floor and ran his hand across his mouth.

"I haven't spoke to my father in many years." Ody laughed slightly at the end of his sentence, reaching into his lapel pocket and withdrawing the old photograph of his mother and father; it was black and white but artfully composed. He paused to look at it through his reading glasses as if it had been a while since he last looked at it.

"I don't really remember my mother - this is the only image I have of her."

Carefully he turned the picture around in his fingers and held it up for Arthur to see.

Arthur's face was a mask of stoic calm but his eyes told a different story. From within the photograph, Sean Daltmooreby's face leered back at him. It was smiling then, to Arthur it was a maniacal grin and cruelly it only reminded him of that vile look of utter loathing that Daltmooreby gave him that night out on the tarmac on the Western side of the Wall.

The moment passed and Ody swiftly put the photo back into his lapel pocket and turned to correct his aim which gave Arthur the opportunity to lapse into a protracted fit of coughing. His lungs were only too willing to help, the beggars.

Ody helped him with his glass.



Anna stirred, and felt the rough weave of the wicker basket grate against her face.

She could feel her side was tender and bruised from the impact of the kick Sreka had given her.

"I really hate him," she said weakly.

In his haste, Sreka had not bound Anna's wrist in his usual thorough manner and there was mercifully a bit of give in the tape around her hands.

She fought against the restraint and managed to work them apart a little, just enough to get at it with her teeth and start pulling and tearing at the bond. After a while, she began to get somewhere until finally they ripped and gave way - her arms flew out to the sides from the effort of trying to pull the cuffs apart.

Free, thrust upward and popped the wicker top into the air, light poured in, she stood up, emerging sore, bedraggled and with absolutely no clue where she was.

It took her moment to realise that blocked in on both sides, light cascading from above, the sound of busy people in a hurry wafting - that she was in an alleyway.

She rotated back and forth looking every which way for that loathsome Russian, but he was nowhere around. She let out a sight of relief.

She remembered his plan to sell into slavery and decide fast not to stick around...

She could here sirens close by but the echo in the alley way made them distant and indistinct.

'What was it he has said?' "...In case the Agency pursues me...."

'Agency?' - "Arthur!” she exclaimed!

She clambered out of the basket - was he here?

Anna picked her way along the alley and emerged blinking into the full glare of the Cairo market in the middle of the destruction wrought by Sreka's bombs.

Instinctively, Anna backed away from the carnage and cluster of police cars.

She saw a long phone box standing ignored in the shadow of some flats

She wandered dazedly up to it, brushing her frazzled and unmanageable hair behind her ears. 'I wonder if they are in the phone book?' she thought aloud to no one in particular.

She found the phone book stashed on the shelf and after a moments thought, looked first under "S" for "spies” but came up short on Manufacturers and Distributors of various kinds of spring.

She then looked under "M" for Mi5 but they weren't listed.

Eventually she turned and started looking under the "A's" for Agency....



X had rappelled so silently down the rope into the Moon Chamber that Jamilla hadn't heard him come in. She'd left the lights off and was examinign a wall of hieroglyphics with a torch. she jumped when X introduced himself.

"You startled me." she clutched at her chest and bent down to catch her breath.

"I - er...look I'm sorry, I'll go."

"No, no, it's fine - I need an extra pair of hands, turn on that lamp will you?" she pointed obscurely to the lamps either side of the plinth at the far side. X trotted over and rummaged in the gloom until his hand closed around on switch . Switching it's on, he got a shock - the beam suddenly exploded into a complex web of beams reflectig out of dozens of huge globular diamonds - so clear X had stared right through them - arranged on plinths all around the room.

"That's good, now the other one."

X did as she said - and the same thign happened. He noticed the way there were two empty plinths. One beam was projected back towards the centre illuminating the empty plinth and the second beam now terminated uselessly on a wall as pale blue spot-light.

"I discovered that there are a series of channels carved into the wall here, that run between these hieroglyphs." she said pointing at the wall where the useless spotlight shone onto. "I think it's some sort of map, which would be incredible. I'm just trying to take a rubbing."

Appearences can be deceiving, it's a universal principle. X was, in spite of appearences and nearly all of his conscious actions, actually extremelly brilliant; and it was at times like this that he really started to regret that fact.

He was staring at the lines in the rock Dr Najil has indicated, and a familiar shape was suggesting itself. Meanwhile his prodigcal brain began starting to piece several things together at once - the rest of his cerebellum looked on in awe - he was self-consciously aware that he didn't at all like where this thought process was taking him.

"Can...can I see that?" he said pointing to the half-completed rubbing Jamila had pressed up against the wall of the temple.

She showed him the tough ashen paper daubed with think lines of charcoal.

"It's an incomplete diagrammatic of some sort - I've not been able to piece it together yet."

It was incomplete, but the drawing felt eerily familiar to X.

She took it back and carried on rubbing the charcoal back and forth, each swipe bringing out more of the pattern of lines, more delictae and intricate than the huge designs at Nazca.

X stared, he took a torch from a stack of equipment and shone it up into the upper reaches, where wall turned and became ceiling. He walked back towards the empty plinth scanning with the torch looking for something. Then he found it. Etched into the ceiling, above the empty plinth, was a design - an orb surrounded by rays spreading outward.

It looked like an image of The Sun, that is to say, a star at the highest point in the sky, it's light radiating down onto the... design on the wall.

Just then the image was there, he could see it - and he recognised it. instantly. He'd seen it somewhere before.

"It could be star...." X heard himself say.

"What?" Jamila turned around and looked at him

"...or a moon."

His brain suddenly arrived at an answer.

"Pilchards are salt-water fish aren't they?" said X, almost dreamily.

"er...I think so."

"I need that," he said snatching the incomplete rubbing out of her hands" and making off towards the rope and the skylight.

"Hey!" she shouted, angrily.

"I'll bring it right back.", stuffing it into his pocket, he started up the rope with surprising speed.



In the tent, Arthur was bent double in agony as Ody dug a little further into his back looking for the final shotgun pellet, pouring alcohol over the open wound that made Arthur whimper quietly.

"There!" Ody said triumphantly yanking a small - malformed metal disc from inside Arthur bloodied flesh

Arthur just breathed heavily. "I'll just pack into some gauze and apply a bandage. I'm no expert - better out than in , but you're going to be laid up for a few days - maybe ever a week or more."

"Not possible." Arthur grunted.

"You need to rest"

"My mission is...too important - nnnh" a stab of pain caused Arthur to wince and reach for the bandage

Ody caught his arm by the wrist - "Rest", he insisted.

As Arthur collapsed into a heap on his side Ody quized him "So what brings you to Egypt Mr Robinson?"

Arthur capitulated, "I'm hunting someone - I'm a cop...sort of." Arthur said though gritted teeth as Ody pressed the gauze into his back.

"A vigilante then?"

"No!", red-faced and angry at the pain, at Ody and at the thought of Sreka. "It’s complicated, I work for the government...sort of. It's an internal investigation."

Just then, X swept aside the cover to the tent.

"Arthur we're in big trouble, this is a lot worse than we first thought. The Cult has been planning this for centuries."

Arthur looked at him through a fog of pain. "What?" he winced rolling over.

"The Cult?" said Ody

X gawped, he'd put his foot in it again.

Arthur just raised an open palm - "Tell 'im."

"The Cult of The Dying Pilchard - they infiltrated our Agency, it's complicated -"

"I...I already know about The Cult."

Jamilla burst into the group - hot on the heels of X.

"Give that back!"

A flash of inspiration crossed Arthur and he looked from X across at Ody. "They've already been here - haven't they?"

Jamila was aghast, "A man - he took one of the diamonds."

"Oneof the ...what? Did she say diamonds, plural?" Arthur asked in disbelief "How many are there?"

"Ooh lots." X replied "you really out to see this for yourself it's quite soemthing."

"He also held us hostage." Ody said, backing up Jamila

"This man," X interveined, "about 5',8"? indicating a rough height with an outstretched arm, wiry whiskers, narrow features, possibly wearing white, British?

Jamilla nodded, upset.

"Sounds like the man I'm after." Arthur looked over at X

"He used fake documents - caught us off guard." Ody started.

"Off guard?" Arthur scoffed. "I'm surprised you didn't recognise him Mr Daltmooreby. The man we are all talking about after all is your father."

"Ody?" Jamilla, backed away alarmed.

Ody said nothing.

"You knew?" she said, horrified.

"Of course. I don't why he did it. That man has been my curse ever since my mother died. It was his fault! I never expected to see him again - certainly not here. I am sorry if he scared you."

"Ody..." Arthur said preparing to admit soemthing.

"It's Ohio." he said. "My name is Ohio Daltmooreby. 'Ody' it's my initials, you see."

"Ohio - I'm looking for your father, Sean. He's caught up in something, something big."

X couldn't resist, and broke the mood, "Why on earth would your father call you after a medium sized mid-easten state?"

"It wasn't him - it was my mother. She was a passionate Atalatacist. my sister's name is Oklahoma."

X winced. He couldn't stand it when people called their children weird names.

"So," Ody said re-capturing the solemn mood, "my dad is caught up in this...cult..and he needed to steal a diamond for them - why?" he finshied accusitorially.

"I can answer that." X said stepping forward.

Arthur, do you remember the map from Fort-Willaim's office?

The one that was drawn badly? Arthur replied

It wasn't drawn badly Arthur - on the contrary it was drawn very accurately.

There's another one just like it in in the cavern with the diamonds.

X unfurled the rubbing for the group.

"The Turqoise Moon - I've not figured it out- yet but I think they want to use it as some sort of...lens to make this a reality."

The group all turned their heads at the putlined map X had on the charcoal rubbing, it was like no map they'd ever seen. Half the countries were missing for starters.

You should see the others they can all bend light - that crazy lighting system in their gave me the idea. But see there was this design on the roof, above the empty plinth. It showed this diamond lens shining light down...on this map. Pilchards can't live in fresh water you see?"

"No, not really." said Arthur a bit confused at his partner's mental gymnastics.

"It'd have to be up high. That's the part I've not figured out yet. There no mountains near here tall enough."

Doctor Ohio Daltmooreby looked at the three faces in the tent with him .

This is ridiculous! I'll just file this nonsence about my father along with the Lost City of Atlantis and The Holy Grail shall I?"

"What?" said Jamila.

"It will be greed, in the end, that's what it will come down to. The man is selfish like no-one else I know. He's only ever looking out for one person and that's himself. so if you think he's part of this...cult you're kidding yourselves. That man has no time for anything or anyone. Anyone. Group activities are just not his thing."

"You," he spun on Jamila, "may be ready to believe stories of diamonds giant lasers, diamonds and mass floods but I'm not. This isn't story time. I don't have time for this."

Ody got to his feet and grabbed his hat as he walked out into the desert air.

"Want me to go after him?" Offered X.

'Why didn't he tell me?' Jamila thought to herself, biting her thumb. She realised X had spoken. "What? No... No. He's just going to the Chamber to think. Work keeps him motivated."

She looked to the two men.

"Tell me who you are. Really."



Ody tugged on the rope leading into the Moon chamber. The moon chamber with pilchards... horrible wet pilchards, flapping about in the diamond fish tank.

He hated speaking like that to Jamila. So did his jaw regularly but he need to figure this out. Now. What was his father was up to? It had been so long since they'd last met. Cult? No that wasn't Sean Daltmooreby. Was it?

He growled at the enigma of it all and lifted up his journal for his notes and ran his fingers along the walls. He'd figure this out.

------------------------------

(Chapter 40)
Sean Daltmooreby and Slepp were waiting on a Cairo thoroughfare at a bus stop.

Slepp Tonnajob was sitting despondently on bench basking in the heat, Daltmooreby meanwhile had taken off his jacket and slung it over the stachel with the diamond in, his pale shirt betrayed his sweatiness.

Daltmooreby glanced up to the roofs of the houses opposite and raised his sunglasses so they perched atop his toupee, appearing momentarily to give it eyes like a giant caterpillar attacking a sunburnt walnut.

He could see a pall of smoke rising up over the city, at more or less the same moment a cacophony of sirens erupted and screeched past him as a cadre of police cars and other emergency vehicles sped past en route to the city centre.

He turned to look at Slepp with a look of concern; Slepp was ignoring him in an apparently sour mood.

As the dust cloud obscuring the passing squadrons of police began to settle, a dark panel van that put Daltmooreby momentarily in mind of the A-Team truck if Hannibal had had a thing for green, pulled out of an adjoining intersection.

"They're here." Daltmooreby said to Slepp.

"At last!" Slepp exclaimed.

Daltmooreby could see Mary was driving, Vontrapp had called shotgun.

The Van slowed to a stop beside them.

"I'll..." began Daltmooreby

"Outta my way" gruffed Slepp pushing his way past Daltmooreby, grabbing the handle on the sliding door and pushing it open with a touch to much effort so it clanged nosily as it rode home on the sliders.

Mary opened the driver's side door and got out.

"Did your contcts get us to location of The Moon?" she asked.

Von Trapp was coming around the front of the vehicle and approach Mary and Daltmooreby.

In a tight little group, Daltmooreby pulled back his coat and showed them the open satchel. "They went one better." he said smirking.

"Is....is that it?" Mary whispered awe-struck.

"I took if from the temple myself." Daltmooreby said proudly.

"Did the other one see it?" Von Trapp asked, talking about Slepp.

"No. I kept it well hidden. Keep a close eye on that one." Daltmooreby said darkly and then added slyly, "He's too close to Reto Vandeveer."

"Really?" said Von Trapp smiling a broad and toothy grin and crunching his knuckles.

"Keep it well hidden Sean." Mary said, casting a glance at Von Trapp. "C'mon let's go."

Daltmooreby climbed in, glad to be out of the sun and in the shade, his relief was tempered by the fact that the space was occupied by five other people and consequently it was a bit stuffy.

In his mind, a protest formed but too late, Sreka pushed the door closed. Slepp had taken up the seat next to Vandeveer and the pair were chattign aimiably, Daltmooreby registered that Sreka was in no mood to talk since he had a face like Krakatoa, so he selected instead to sit down opposite Vandeveer.

Mary and Von Trapp got in the front and Mary checked the rear view mirror to make sure none of the police cars she'd passed at the intersection has swung round to follow them; satisfied she turned to look at Daltmoorby.

"The band is back together!" she announced triumphantly. Sean has returned successfully with...with the co-ordinates for The Turqoise Moon!"

Daltmooreby took a handkerchief and mopped his brow. " It wasn't easy" taking a deliberate boast in his handiwork - had a unforeseen hitch -"

Slepp exploded "Unforeseen! This 'contact' of his in Cairo - it was his goddamn son!"

"Is that true?" Mary enquired, tilting her head from Slepp to Daltmooreby.

"Does it matter?" he asked not raising his head to her inquiry. Instead, he quickly shot an acid glare at Slepp who gave back as good as he got.

"I have the location of the Moon. Isn't that enough?"

"You've done well Daltmooreby." Von Trapp smiled uncharacteristic for him.

"We had some problems of our own - it seems The Agency has tracked us down afterall. Sreka said he managed to kill one."

Daltmooreby's head whipped round.

Sreka grin was awful. He leered and chuckled to himself tapping a toothpick on the floor of the van whiling in his fingers and snapping it between his teeth. "He took a tumble off a roof...after I shot him in the back."

There was a pregant pause, Daltmoore knew was directed at him.

"Do you believe my loyalties to be somehow divided? he asked furiously.

"If you think I care one iota for my former employer then you are al gravely mistaken." Daltmoorby was simmering with barely contiend rage. "I care not for that loathsome organisation or it's misguided clones. The tragedy is I now won't get to kill one myself. My place is with The Cult, my old life has been cast away."

"What about your son?" asked Vandeveer, clearly he and Slepp had been talking.

"He will perish along with the others. He stood in the shadow of the temple and saw nothing but ruins. He cannot be saved."

"Then we must make haste." she said with some finality.

She plunged the gear stick into gear and revved the engine. The van pulled away from the kerbside and raced away on an empty road out of Cairo never to return.

The suspension in the van wasn't up to much. Daltmooreby had to hang on to his toupee to prevent it juddering off. Sreka's bulk kept him more or less stable but the constant jiggling was already preying on his fractious nerves.

"Is it much farther?" he barked irritably.

"Not far now, Andrei love," Mary called back, not taking her eyes of the road.

Sreka didn't move a muscle - mercifully no one had taken notice of her epithet.

"Da. Where is we are going again?"

"We can't afford to be seen." Von Trapp said, turning around in his seat. "This is another way into the lost city."

That is where Daltmooreby said they hid The Moon from us - in our very own temple!"

Daltmoorebys brow wrinkled as a thought crossed his mind.

"Aren't we a person light?" he asked. "Where is the girl Sreka, the one from Switzerland?"

Daltmooreby's incisiveness left no avenue for escape - and everyone was listening.

"...I killed her."

Everyone stopped breathing and Mary hit the brakes sharply.

The van lurched to an abrupt stop.

"You did WHAT?" shouted Von Trapp.

"You only said you killed some Agents before." Mary scolded. "The girl was in your care Andrei!"

"Da! De wonz from the Switzerland. They ambushed me in the Market Square. as I was brining her across."

"They were pursuign me I had to act fast.

"It will be Robinson." Daltmooreby said sourly without looking up. "As determined as a blood-hound and about half as smart."

"Dis is true. He wanted de girl."

Daltmooreby looked up in surprise. "He what?"

"The girl. He called out her name - so I shot her then I shot him, he fell off a roof." Sreka said maintaining his fiction.

Daltmooreby's eyes flicked back and forth as he worked something out.

"You left out some details before, Andrei my love." Mary said setting off again.

"Niet! You bleed me death!" Sreka cried throwing a hand in the air and offerign a quick prayer to Baba Yaga1 that no-one had noticed her affectionate name-calling.

Daltmooreby interveined again. "So Robinson was after the girl? Fascinating. Are you certain you killed him?"

"Niet, I had to leave quickly."

"Pity."



Arthur lay on the bed in the tent thinking.

X was outside with the female archeologist. Arthur was very fond of his partner and had watched as the pair had regarded each other warily for a few minutes prior and after that business with the wall rubing had been sorted out, several attempts at small talk had petered out.

Instead they'd gone to watch the sun set over the desert, Jamilla had assured X it was a sight worth seeing.

Arthur didn't want to move. His back hurt like hell - and seeing X talking to Jamilla only made his mind wander to Anna ...and how he had seen her die...why only yesterday. Between the pain in his back and the pain in his head Arthur was bitterly resentful of having nothing else to think about.

So instead he thought about the cult and how to stop them.

It was all connected somehow; he could feel it waiting there, just on the edge of knowing. The phrase on the alter, the missing diamonds, the secret door in the wall Ody had described, the map, that horror story X had blurted out: Something about arctic sea levels. Sometimes X's mind moved too swiftly even for him.

Had it always been this way? Arthur couldn't remember. He mentally started totting up the years between signing up to the Agency after transferring from the academy under Fort-William; Seeing Boutros-Bouttros Ghali at his induction ceremony; Meeting X for the first time; That trip to Germany and the Berlin Mission; Coming here - no - it had started in Switzerland with Anna and...then they'd taken Anna and I tracked them here...where Sreka killed her....no think! From Switzerland to Egypt - why did I come to Egypt?

Arthur felt like a fly in a cobweb stuck in the middle but seeing strands all around him.

Without realising it, Arthur slipped into a busy sleep.



A short distance later the van pulled up sharply.

"We are here," Mary said, unbuckling her seat belt and opening the door.

Daltmooreby opened the sliding door and went to get out, Sreka followed then Vandeveer and Slepp.

Daltmooreby sheilded his brow and let his eyes adjust.

"This is...?"

"Colonel Mustard's Fish and a Chip Emporium." Said Mary proudly.

There was a mutual silence of incomprehension.

"Just let me do the talking.” she said, pushing up her hair and for the first time since Switzerland, re-applying her nun's wimple.

"Follow me."

She marched ahead and her loyal band of cohorts trapped in after her. Sreka closed the door and switched the sign around to "closed"

Mary approached the counter. Von Trapp slotted in behind her like a body guard.

"The Dying Pilchard bleeds under a Turquoise Moon."

"Unseasonable Weather we are having." said the owner of the extraordinary moustache stood behind the deep-fat fryer.

"I am Ozymandias. King of Kings." Mary stated.

"Look upon my works ye Mighty and despair!"

"The Descendants of Rameses will claim dominion over the world entire," said Mary holding up the symbol of The cult she bore around her neck.

"You're not wrong about that,” said the Moustache grinning. "Follow me bretheren, the secret passage is in the freezer."

"Home away from Home." Mary said and followed him into through a door into the back of the shop.

One further idea regarding Anna.

If she did call the Agency and get rescued - we could have Mustapha Koffi (flying ace) piloting the helicopter when it lands to pick up Arthur, X, Bob, Jill and Heddingly.

We could then have the Egyptian Family Bistro stood empty and Leicester and Tim coming up to the door and a sign "closed due to family emergency" plastered to the window.

Just a thought....

I like the idea of Anna not being kidnapped again - it seems she's spent the entire thing tied up or in a cell, which doesn't say much about our ability to write good parts for women . Why not have her give up looking for the Agency in despair and wander into a random Egyptian bistro - sister shop to the one in London? On the helicoptor at the end sounds like a good place to re-introduce her.

On the coding front....I'm nearing the stage where the chapter numbers start including the letter L.

This isn't a story - it's a novel.

"Part XXXXIV"

Ahem, I believe forty is "XL".

hmmmm I was going to fix that. ;- but hadn't got round to it yet.

Fixed.

Just coding the Slepp v X fight.... (Chapter XLV)

A13753811

I've re-done some of the Terran's (legendary) take-over on board The Moriarty by Sreka and Vandeveer.

I've been making some subtle dialogue additions here and there in other chapters to suggest a collaboration building. AS I was coding up this fight it got a bit confusing as to who was doing what to whom so I've tried to slim it down a bit but keep it fast paced, direct and violent.


Clive