The Iron Man [Serial]

Locomotion

I was again alone in my room the next morning and woken by a knock at the door. Murphy was there, dressed for the day, but hair still uncombed. He noted it himself, "I'm not yet ready, but it's time you started." I waved at him; he knew very well that if I'd slept in it was because he'd woken me in the night. Still, it was no bother, it simply never took me near as much time to be ready as him.

I know Alpha teased him, but Murphy was actually one who would apply kohl to go into the darkness of a pyramid. His ability to grow a beard, compared to my pale patchy mess, meant he took that much more time shaving or trimming. And, no matter how anyone else liked his hair, he wouldn't go out until it was combed slick with oil pomade. 

But, he looked a right swell. I'd always admired that, even before I actually liked him.

I expected hours of travel before I met another member of Murphy's family, so I dressed for the weather. Here, even in the last week of September, it was warm. I forewent a waistcoat and necktie.

Murphy, of course, was impeccably dressed.

"How can you?"

Smugly, he knew what I meant. "I'm accustomed to it."

I'd been in Egypt near a week. It still felt unseasonably warm to me.

Me'rah, too, was able to wear layers in the heat. When she was inside, she wore the ladies thawb with embroidered neckline, which I'd  gathered from Sina was common in parts of Palestine and Sinai. Outside, Me'rah always wore a loose, open-front robe over her dress.

We had one of the Regs assigned to the palace drive us to the train station, so he might return the steam-cab. He agreed to watch the existing luggage while we went into a nearby shop to purchase a suitcase. I purchased a train case; sturdy, compact enough to fit on most racks, with a built-in valet compartment; and a document tube large enough to hold my Scipio. Murphy managed his in plain sight, as it was a cane sword, but Lady Antonia had been clear about keeping her distinctive sword hidden.  

With some minor shifting of items, I was able to carry most of my belongings with me between case, tube, satchel and sewing box.

I'd seen Murphy live out of a slim garment bag, sitar case, and pockets, but he had a suitcase for this trip, which he was glad enough to turn over to porters. His mother had her belongings in a carpet bag, and guarded the stack of twine-bound books when Murphy or some porter did not.

We entered the station beneath a grand portico of masonry arches flanked by clock towers. Murphy purchased our tickets at the window and returned  to direct us to the platform beneath the steel and glass canopy.

"We will need to switch trains in Ismailia," Murphy told us.

We had passage in a First Class cabin for the first leg of our journey, which provided cushioned chairs and curtains to draw open or closed against the sun as needed. I took one of the window seats.

As the train continued to board, a mustachioed man in dark hat and suit came to stand in the walkway near our seats and read from a small book in his hands.

"I think the gentleman is asking for the seat," Murphy said in English.

"Ha," I said, gesturing to the empty seat beside me.

The man nodded, then slid his suitcase beneath the vacant seat. He then sat down beside me and unfastened a button on his jacket.

After a silence, the man turned to me and spoke in English, "You are with the Company?"

I suspected my manner of speaking had prompted the question. "No," I said and then spoke the Hindi phrase for, "I am not Bharati." "I picked-up some habits of speech in London."