The Iron Man [Serial]

All Tea No Shade

We took the Hispano up a dirt road into the hills to a location Samir named as Wadi Maghara. I'd nearly lost my hat despite the windscreen, so I felt the full of the morning sun on my face.

We pulled off the beaten track, and the Hispano continued north, rolling slowly on under-inflated tires, through a valley between rocky cone-shaped hills.

"On foot from here," Samir said as he turned off the engine. Steam hissed from the hood.

"Someone is there," Maya said.

"I see them." Samir turned and looked through the second windscreen. "My sword is there."

Murphy reached to the sword rack bolted to the bulkhead between front and rear seats. He rose from the slip-covered seat to pass the sheathed blade forward.  

Samir belted the sword beneath his coat and left to speak to the group ahead.

"Does he need it?" I asked.

In the front seat, Maya opened a compartment.

"How many days do I carry a sword and not need it?"

"Touché."

"Tell your friend we practice one language at a time," Maya said.

I might have apologized, but Murphy held up his hand. "Jules was speaking English. He used a loan word to make a clever observation that I had a point about a sword, which you ruined."

"Nothing is funny that you need to explain." Maya climbed up atop of the bulkhead and extended a spyglass in the direction Samir had gone.

Me'rah opened the front passenger door and slipped from the cab.

"Camels," Maya reported.

The door to the boot creaked open behind us, so I supposed Me'rah to be there.

"Let me see," Murphy said.

Maya wriggled away, though Murphy hadn't even reached for her, and I laughed.

"Excuse me," I said, "I was just reminded of my own sister."

Me'rah walked beside us, toward the front of the Hispano.

"Tyron didn't tell me he had a sister," I said, glancing at him.

"Family is private," he said quietly, then, "you know now."

At the front of the Hispano, there was a fresh hiss of steam followed by the drip and gurgle of water flowing to a container.

Maya looked down to Me'rah, and then turned to look into the rear seat. "Your friend has a sister, too?"

"He has, but we've not met," Murphy said.

"She must be nearly as old as Tyron, but I haven't seen her since she was younger than I am now."

"That means younger than you," Murphy said to Maya. Then, "Maya's almost your age. And finally covering her hair."

Maya tugged at her hood to ensure it was covering, though a dark curl peeked out at one side. "Mama and Baba said I had to," she said crossly, "but I'm not going to wear a veil unless I'm dancing or in a storm. It doesn't matter! I've so many older brothers, all the boys my age are my own nephews."

"Maybe we'll call a khatba for you." Murphy laughed.

At the side of the cab, Me'rah, holding a silver teapot, voiced an exaggerated sigh. "Maya," she said, "Your father is returning. Go greet him."

Maya bowed her head, then slid off the top of the Hispano to go after Samir.

"Son," Me'rah said, "I went to Cairo for you. I can do my duty for your sister, even if I have to travel the world."

Murphy sat straight. "I did not mean to speak against you. Truly, Mother. Lots of families in Alex and Cairo use matchmakers."

Me'rah nodded several times. "What is the custom of families in New York?"

I covered my mouth, thinking, "Minerva!"

I seemed only saved from answering by Maya's return with Samir. "They're Uni students," Maya announced.

I felt Samir looking at me and turned away.

"Everything is well?" he asked.

Murphy said nothing.

"I made tea," Me'rah whispered.

"Excellent."

Murphy leaned a hand into my shoulder.

"Tyron," Samir said. "They are from your school. Take Julien and Maya and go visit." 

"You don't need help?"

"I gave you leave." Samir waved one hand in dismissive gesture.

"I'll take them dates! I'm going to take them dates," Maya said, scrambling back into the front seat to retrieve a sack.

I took my hat and satchel to go along with Murphy and his sister. The university students were recognizable for the sameness of their cotton or linen blazers worn with trousers or long skirts. Their professors had similar togs, though slightly stiffer and darker, while guides wore gallabeyya and white head wraps.

"Salaam," Murphy said.

The group returned their greetings and went back to their work sketching the arrangement of ancient mine tunnels or copying the nearby inscriptions.  I walked closer to a carved rock face to begin my own copy, but I couldn't quite make the details. There was a Pharaoh figure in kilt and crown and a bearded man on his knees. The Egyptian man might have been holding the man by a noose or collar about to beat him, or considering the mines nearby, he might have been about to drive a chisel into the man. 

"That one is Sekhemkhet," Maya said, "there are others."

"Smiting the tribesmen," Murphy said from behind.

"It's in bad taste," I said, lowering my sketchbook.

Murphy stepped to my side. "No more than erotica from Pompeii." He smiled briefly. "I think we should remember something like this."

"To not let it happen again?" I asked.

"To not do it ourselves."

I nodded.

"Vengeance is just," Murphy said, "I am not feeling merciful toward whoever put me in the coma."

"Ha."

"I'll take the eye, as it were; I'm not going to visit the crimes of past generations on the present."

"You know I still have your back."

Murphy smiled.

"But I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want change." 

Murphy sighed. "Change may not come without some pain...." His voice began to trail off as Maya approached one of the nearby students.

"Would you like a date?" She asked.

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Chapter 90!

The media is "Truth" by Gwen Stefani.