any ideas?”
“I am making this up as I go,” Ishaq humbly replied.
“Great. Let me guess…when you say that you were entrusted by your people, what you really meant was that no one else wanted to do it, and you drew the short straw.”
“Yes. I did.”
A shadow passed over the café, and Phineas looked up. High above, an Imperial Airship hovered over them, its engines silent. An antennae array was lowered from the cabin.
“I think…that we are not the only ones intent on finding our wayward mummy.” Phineas stood up and looked at the Zeppelin. Whether he was addressing his companions or challenging those listening above, he wasn’t sure himself. “The race is on, gentlemen.”
Episode
8
The city of New York…its citizens going about their collective lives and completely ignorant of what transpires within its midst. Somewhere among the burrows, buried within the factories, warehouses, and bistros, in the shelter of an obscure basement, a key is inserted and turned. Once, twice, and then a last fateful click that signals a new beginning. A circle of hooded figures begin chanting…an ancient ritual passed down through the millennia.
On a day where visibility was unusually clear, free from haze and smog, a disturbance was reported. A single focal point of clouds began to form and swirl. Darkness suddenly fell across a section of the city, blocking out the sun. The wind picked up, churning around a Brownstone, blowing papers, hats, and signs in a vortex that increased speed until a visible tornadic funnel spun, held in place by unseen forces. Lightning spat sporadically, reaching out to metallic receptors around the building. People ran for cover in the vicinity, while those outside the affected area watched in awe as the spectacle unfolded.
Phineas, William, and Ishaq—with the automaton’s head still secure around his neck—witnessed the phenomenon from the rooftop of a building adjacent to the café that they had vacated to view the occurrence. To their rear, the Imperial zeppelin beat a hasty retreat from the storm, much to Phineas’ delight.
“All right,” said William, “who was that and what is that?”
Phineas raised an arm towards the airship. “State Security and…something really bad,” he finished by raising the other arm towards the storm.
“Oh, that clears everything up,” William said sarcastically. “Why would I.S.S. be interested in us?”
“Probably because we know about the mummy and there is something that has caught their attention about him.” Phineas looked to Ishaq. “Is this what you expected to happen if the key was turned?”
“No…this is much worse,” came Ishaq’s translated reply from the automaton.
“Well, that is comforting,” William quipped. “Where to now?”
Phineas, with his eye on the disturbance, replied, “There. We need to find the mummy.”
“I was afraid that you would say that,” sighed William.
Heading towards the stationary tornado was much more difficult than they had imagined. First of all, no cabbies, live or mechanical, would take them in the direction of the vortex, and the trio had to run the entire distance. Then, as they drew closer to the epicenter, they were faced by an onrushing mob, determined to flee the area.
When they were approximately half-way there, the winds subsided, and slowly, the mob began to stop panicking and it was easier to cut through the throng of people.
When they reached their destination, clearly discernible by the amount of debris and damage in the area, Phineas did a quick scan of the sky, looking for the zeppelin. When nothing presented itself above or in their vicinity, Phineas decided that it was safe to proceed.
As they started up the steps of the Brownstone, William put his hand on Phineas’ shoulder. “Wait. Why do you think this is the right place?”
Phineas looked around. “See all of these buildings? What makes this one different from all the rest?”
“They all look the same
“I am making this up as I go,” Ishaq humbly replied.
“Great. Let me guess…when you say that you were entrusted by your people, what you really meant was that no one else wanted to do it, and you drew the short straw.”
“Yes. I did.”
A shadow passed over the café, and Phineas looked up. High above, an Imperial Airship hovered over them, its engines silent. An antennae array was lowered from the cabin.
“I think…that we are not the only ones intent on finding our wayward mummy.” Phineas stood up and looked at the Zeppelin. Whether he was addressing his companions or challenging those listening above, he wasn’t sure himself. “The race is on, gentlemen.”
Episode
8
The city of New York…its citizens going about their collective lives and completely ignorant of what transpires within its midst. Somewhere among the burrows, buried within the factories, warehouses, and bistros, in the shelter of an obscure basement, a key is inserted and turned. Once, twice, and then a last fateful click that signals a new beginning. A circle of hooded figures begin chanting…an ancient ritual passed down through the millennia.
On a day where visibility was unusually clear, free from haze and smog, a disturbance was reported. A single focal point of clouds began to form and swirl. Darkness suddenly fell across a section of the city, blocking out the sun. The wind picked up, churning around a Brownstone, blowing papers, hats, and signs in a vortex that increased speed until a visible tornadic funnel spun, held in place by unseen forces. Lightning spat sporadically, reaching out to metallic receptors around the building. People ran for cover in the vicinity, while those outside the affected area watched in awe as the spectacle unfolded.
Phineas, William, and Ishaq—with the automaton’s head still secure around his neck—witnessed the phenomenon from the rooftop of a building adjacent to the café that they had vacated to view the occurrence. To their rear, the Imperial zeppelin beat a hasty retreat from the storm, much to Phineas’ delight.
“All right,” said William, “who was that and what is that?”
Phineas raised an arm towards the airship. “State Security and…something really bad,” he finished by raising the other arm towards the storm.
“Oh, that clears everything up,” William said sarcastically. “Why would I.S.S. be interested in us?”
“Probably because we know about the mummy and there is something that has caught their attention about him.” Phineas looked to Ishaq. “Is this what you expected to happen if the key was turned?”
“No…this is much worse,” came Ishaq’s translated reply from the automaton.
“Well, that is comforting,” William quipped. “Where to now?”
Phineas, with his eye on the disturbance, replied, “There. We need to find the mummy.”
“I was afraid that you would say that,” sighed William.
Heading towards the stationary tornado was much more difficult than they had imagined. First of all, no cabbies, live or mechanical, would take them in the direction of the vortex, and the trio had to run the entire distance. Then, as they drew closer to the epicenter, they were faced by an onrushing mob, determined to flee the area.
When they were approximately half-way there, the winds subsided, and slowly, the mob began to stop panicking and it was easier to cut through the throng of people.
When they reached their destination, clearly discernible by the amount of debris and damage in the area, Phineas did a quick scan of the sky, looking for the zeppelin. When nothing presented itself above or in their vicinity, Phineas decided that it was safe to proceed.
As they started up the steps of the Brownstone, William put his hand on Phineas’ shoulder. “Wait. Why do you think this is the right place?”
Phineas looked around. “See all of these buildings? What makes this one different from all the rest?”
“They all look the same
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