Table of Contents
	Discovery
	Rivets
	White Sand
	Ages Ago
	Signals
	Swithington
	The French Arrive
	A Glimpse of Germans
	The Jewel of Myhohotep

Discovery

Her Royal Majesties steamship Drake leaves Weymouth, England in the summer of 1847, sailing south towards the Cape of Good Hope. It is starting the journey to India and is loaded with trade goods, building materials, and mail for the garrison posts. The latter to be delivered throughout the East Indies trading company expansion.

The weather is fair with a slight breeze coming in off the Atlantic. Crisp and cool, it raises gooseflesh on the arms of Lady Sarah Swithington, late of Darby Dale, fiancée of Sgt. Major Reginald Fitzsimmons. Lady Swithington gently rubs her arms and smiles in anticipation of the voyage to come and the experiences of exotic ports of call.

Meanwhile, in the middle Atlantic, weather conditions have been remarkably placid for much too long...

The RMS Drake lazily sambas her way southward calling in ports Brest, Bordeaux, Oporto, Lisbon, Cadir and Gibraltar. Sarah and Sgt. Major Fitzsimmons visit each port, sightseeing, sampling local cuisine and storing memories. Sarah cannot imagine a more perfect trip.

The Drake is resupplyed and provisioned while in Gibraltar. Capt. Roger DeKabanbouy also has her inspected and is satisfied with the report. Although, nagging in the back of his mind, why did the boiler suddenly cease operation between Lisbon and Cadir? Leaving Gibraltar and turning south toward the coast of Africa, the Drake makes good speed and the boiler rhythmically chugs a happy little melody.

Out in the Atlantic a clear sky and merciless sun begins to heat the water. Wind directions in Antarctica change and begin blowing northward. And cool breezes have been following the Drake southward since Weymouth.

Down along the coast of Africa the Drake makes port at Robat, Mogadore, and Bofadar. Selling most of their trade goods, the Captain and crew are happy. It is their intent to buy more on the "Coasts" that are quickly approaching. The lure of cheap Ivory, Gold and Silver has them smiling in anticipation. This will be a very profitable trip.

After a small toast in the Captain's cabin celebrating crossing the Tropic of Cancer, Sarah and Fitzsimmons retired to their cabins. The small dram of brandy had merely whetted the Sergeant Major's appetite, not quenched a thirst. The men of the Highlanders had nicknamed him Snort because of the prodigious amount of whiskey he could drink. One of his mates, Mark Winguthban, had said "If he is not on duty, he is drinking, watch your whiskey boys, he just snorts it down." That had been a good laugh and had cost Fitzsimmons a few more drinks. The name "Snort" had been with him since that day. Now where was that bottle?

Sarah entered her cabin and began to make preparations for her evening's repose. She absent-mindedly noticed that the swell was somewhat larger and the wind seemed to be picking up. One of her lamps was guttering somewhat. She needed to trim the wick. One last thing, though, she had better go check on Reginald. She had noticed the wistful look on his face as the Captain had put the stopper back in the decanter.

The voyage continued down the coast of Africa with stops at Port Lokko and Free Town. The Drake stopped at Monrovia on the Grain Coast and resupplyed some of the foodstuffs. Turning east, she then began her voyage on down the Coasts, stopping at every port imaginable. The Drake's crew and Captain traded diligently picking up Ivory, Gold and Silver. As she neared the Mouths of the Quorra, preparing to turn south again, the boiler went out. No warning, nothing, one second it was perking along normally, the next it was ominously quiet. It did relight, after some effort, but its rhythm had changed.

The water vapor suspended over the area that had been heating for weeks met with the northerly flowing winds from Antarctica and the southern bound winds that had chased the Drake all the way from England. Rotation around the hot spot started almost immediately.

The party for crossing the Equator allowed the crew to blow off some steam. Snort lived up to his name and enjoyed himself tremendously. Even though he could drink prodigious amounts, he was never out of control. That would simply be bad form. But once the Drake left Nazareth it was back to work. The boiler was running rougher now although it had not failed again. Capt. DeKabanbouy makes inquiries at every port but spare parts were not to be found. He decided to press straight on to Cape Town in hopes that spare parts or at least an adequate smithy can be found.

The Drake's boiler died twice between Mayumba and Cape Frio. The crew had tried everything including a complete cleaning of all the firebox components while docked at Cape Frio. That helped somewhat, it was still off rhythm, but it did not die again during the remaining voyage to Cape Town.

The growing storm had been gathering strength and had grown into a full-fledged hurricane. It had wandered around the area like a drunken tripod dog, not quite deciding to travel east or west. But finally the winds from the north grabbed hold and started pushing the storm southeast.

At Cape Town the inquiries for spare parts went for naught. There were several smithies but the Captain thought his crew was more qualified than the smiths. He set them cleaning, lubricating and polishing one more time. The Drake replenished its fresh water supply and added some fruit to the stores. Snort and Sarah spent a delightful evening with an old friend of the Captain.

Mark Fairvictory was an excellent host and conversationalist. He enjoyed entertaining his old friend and the other travelers from home. The meal was superb, with excellent cigars and brandy afterwards. The dinner conversation embraced many subjects including news from England, local hunting conditions and sporting events. Fairvictory was extremely keen on his teams chances in the upcoming Cricket tournament and regretted that DeKabanbouy would not be around to watch.

The next day dawned crisp and clear, but there were ominous clouds off in the northwest and the swell was rising. The captain ordered the Drake to cast off, he was going to run in front of the storm. The Drake should be okay once it got around the Cape of Good Hope and sheltered on the eastern side of Africa. The Drake dropped south out of Cape Town, the boiler chugging right along. It stayed out south of the Cape, the Captain wanted to make sure there was deep water under the keel. And finally the Drake started its turn to the east.

The storm was a monster and its winds were gaining velocity, it was now bound directly for the Cape of Good Hope pushing high seas in front of it.

The captain realized he had dreadfully underestimated the storm, the seas were tremendous, with waves crashing over the bow. He ordered all his crew to be tied to lifelines and anything else lashed into place. Sarah and Snort were told to stay in their cabins and to hang on. It was going to be a rough ride. Finally he called for all the power the little boiler could produce. The Drake was pounding along, and the captain was worried.

The seas were immense, the Drake was barely capable of maintaining steerage, and the storm was pushing against it violently. Late in the day, the boiler simply gave up. The rough pounding had exacerbated the nagging internal problems and it simply couldn't cope anymore. The Drake, now without power, could only be pushed along in front of the storm. All the captain could do was to keep the Drake from capsizing by using the rudder to keep the bow into the waves.

The storm blew for several days, the Drake was totally lost at sea and the little ship was showing signs of the incessant pounding. It was tossed around as easily as dandelion seeds in a breeze. The storm winds were so fierce and shrill that one couldn't hold a coherent thought. Sarah was violently seasick and Snort was not much better although putting on a brave face. All were privately making their peace with the Lord in one way or another. Minutes passed like hours and days seemed like years. The storm raged on.

Rivets

Finally after many days of rough passage, and in the dark of the night, the Captain heard another sound over the winds, that of a crashing surf. It was off to the starboard bow, so he kicked the rudder over in hopes for shelter. The sound of surf grew louder and louder. The captain held the wheel hard over with all his strength and prayed. Abruptly the Drake slammed hard into something solid and popped rivets in a hail of shrapnel.

It wasn't a great landing, everyone was bruised and bloodied, but there were no fatalities. Within a short time the storm blew onward leaving them behind. There were just a few hours before dawn; exhausted, bandaged and grateful to be alive everyone drifted off to sleep anticipating what the morning would bring.

As dawn was breaking, so was the Drake. Amidst sounds of popping rivets, groaning metal plates, straining bilge pumps and crashing surf, the shipwreck survivors slowly awakened from their exhaustion induced slumber. Slowly, as wits and strength were gathered, they made their way to the deck. They stood dumbstruck, gazing at what had stopped the projectile named RMS Drake.

Less than one hundred meters directly east was a pristine white sand beach that sloped upward and back into a dense tropical forest. Coconut palms, palmettos and ferns were abundant, as well as razor grass and other underbrush. The forest appeared very thick and deep, a quick breeze ruffled the tops of the trees as far as they could see. As they watched, a large flock of birds rose from the trees, screaming, diving and swooping, and disappeared inland. The beach and forest stretched for miles to the north-northeast, until it disappeared on the horizon in haze and mist. From the Drake's perspective, the beach and forest also stretched for miles to the south-southwest, until it too vanished at the horizon. This was not a caricature desert isle with its single palm tree, this was a landmass that speculation predicted could be immense. Why it was not on any map was a mystery to Captain DeKabanbouy.

Pop! Another rivet hurriedly leaving its berth brought the Captain's attention back to the Drake. It was past time to offload material and supplies that would allow survival. Water, food and shelter were immediate needs. In these climates exposure was not a significant risk, unless another storm blew in. He set his crew to gathering all the perishables that could be preserved and had them transferred into the two ships boats. Salvage of other material that would not be affected by water was delayed. The Drake was not going to sink, the storm had thrown her several hundred meters onto a coral reef, but she was taking on water as the plates failed. The realization that survival may be a long-term activity had awakened in the Captain's mind. He was determined to salvage every scrap of material that might prove useful.

As the Captain turned to enter his cabin, footsteps sounded loud on the deck planking. Two crewman, breathless, wearing lop-sided and hopeful grins, came hustling up holding a waterlogged pigeon cote. The Captain, in what seemed like the first time in years, smiled. There were five pigeons still alive. Looking closer, all three that Fairvictory had given him in Capetown were looking back at him. Somewhat bedraggled and confused, the birds appeared healthy. Enlisting Sarah's help, crewmen Burke and Duncan went off to warm, dry and feed the birds. The Captain continued on below, now focusing on his navigation tools.

Sometime later, DeKabanbouy used two of his precious carrier pigeons to send a message to Fairvictory. The second pigeon, was a cool gray blue with a confident eye. Everyone bade it good speed and fair travel as it mimicked a bullet toward the west.

Fairvictory,
RMS Drake shipwrecked on uncharted island.
All Passengers and Crew in good health.
14 46 30S 73 26 10E
Send help,
DeKabanbouy

For several hours the two ship's boats were kept busy salvaging the Drake. Dolphins, playing in the surf, watched the small boats swim back and forth between ship and shore. They chittered at the boats every so often but soon tired of the game. They went back to feeding and surfing. The boats continued the salvage operation. Late in the afternoon, the boats brought all passengers and crew to the beach.

White Sand

Snort stepped out onto a bright white sand beach, there was plant debris everywhere. Seaweed had been pushed high on the beach; undergrowth had been ripped loose and blown about by the storm. The scattered coconuts brought his attention to an immediate task. Survival would require food, shelter and fresh water.

With coconuts and fish to be harvested, food was plentiful, if not exactly gourmet. A remembered image of the swarming birds returned to Snort. There would be game available, but the birds also meant there was fresh water somewhere near. A scouting party should be sent out, soon. Snort turned to help Sarah out of the boat.

Sarah extended her hand to Reginald and stepped out of the ship's boat onto the sandy white beach. This place was beautiful and sent her imagination running back to her childhood. She remembered daydreams of far off islands full of adventure. She remembered them as much more comfortable however, and her pragmatic side pulled her out of reverie. With Reginald at her side, she strode inland, until she was almost at the jungle edge. Looking around she found a few coconut palms that had been blown over in the storm and would serve nicely as seating around a fire-pit. She began to gather material for a fire.

The next few weeks settled into routine, limited exploration and survival. Snort and some of the 213th Worcestershire soldiers explored the area. A little brook, that ran quick and clear, was found about a half-mile from their initial landing point. Construction of shelter close to the brook was immediately begun. Soon there were several buildings that offered shelter and a modicum of comfort.

As the days passed, Sarah came to the realization that rescue may never arrive. She needed something to hold onto her courage. A remembrance from her childhood of a little white prick-eared terrier, with boundless energy and courage came to her unbidden. Her father had given her that dog, and told her that its name was Scimitar. She had not been able to pronounce that name, it tangled on her tongue and lips. Her father had smiled at the attempt.

During the evening meal, Sarah asked DeKabanbouy if he had thought of a name for this newly discovered land. He had not. She described the memory and the link to her father and home that the little dog's name conjured. Capt. DeKabanbouy was delighted with the story and hastily organized a ceremony. Shortly after dinner, with everyone in full military dress, or as close as possible, Capt. DeKabanbouy proclaimed "This new land is claimed for Queen and Country and shall in future be known as - Zimdar". A toast was raised and downed at the christening.

Ages Ago

Ages ago, the Oracle Kayohyaohmehayo had given the King of the Peoples a task to be carried out without fail. The Oracle perceived that the Peoples would become lost to history unless their presence, art and science could be recorded and preserved. The King had been given many victories over the years by paying close attention to the Oracle's foresights and intuitions. He was not about to change this philosophy now.

The King called his librarians, scribes and craftsmen together to begin the planning of the artifacts that would be left in perpetuity. Initial questions abut the type of edifice, and its location were pondered. The artifacts must be permanent, they must last thousands of years, and if deciphered correctly could be used to understand this society and perhaps build some of its technology. The decision was eventually reached to build a working model of their most important technology, their traveler. Most importantly, however the traveler would be dismantled, so that only an advanced society would understand the assembly and use of such a device. It would be entombed in an edifice that would also house the art, language, and history of the People.

After much deliberation, it was decided that several similar artifacts were to be created and placed in separate locations around the homeland. Given the volcanic nature of the region, it was a safer plan to insure that the People lived on throughout history. Simultaneous construction of these structures would require a large labor force, slaves were needed. The King ordered the construction of a large traveler that would be sent into the mountainous regions of the lands that would eventually become India and Pakistan.

The traveler was constructed so that the base floor could hold three-hundred workers and their wives and children, if done properly this one traveler using the available space could return with approximately five-hundred usable laborers and their families. During the construction, skilled miners delved deep into the earth where the known veins of Ruby and the Quiwsnartz crystal were to be found. During the mining effort several small Rubies and Quiwsnartz crystals were found, perfect for the models that were to be left behind for history. Finally a ruby the size of an egg and a flawless Quiwsnartz crystal the length a man's arm were found. These two pieces were immediately sent to the craftsman guilds for shaping, faceting, polishing and alignment. The ruby was cut, polished and faceted into a teardrop shape the size of a man's thumb. It was perfect, and was given to the priestess that would pilot the traveler.

The Quiwsnartz crystal had been faceted into a long obelisk pointed on both ends. It was the largest gem that had ever been aligned with an equally and massive Ruby. The priestess and her mathematician, telepathically, used the Ruby to reach into the crystal. The process was begun - and after considerable time was completed. The Quiwsnartz was now forever bonded to the Ruby, however in all the people's recorded history there was no known record of the Quiwsnartz changing colors. This giant one had become a deep ominous ebony. Its power was unfathomable, the priestess realized that she would only be able to control this giant if she was in communion with the mathematician. With that precaution in mind she advised the King that it was ready to be installed into the shimmering mineral core of the traveler. When the construction was complete, the ship itself was a large octahedron shape at rest in stable position.

The ship was used many times to travel between the Sourceland of the Peoples into the mountainous area, across the sea to the north (currently India, Afghanistan and Pakistan). The men and women found were a hardy stock. The times were poor, a promise of a better life from the Priestess and her retinue was eagerly accepted in exchange for hard manual labor. It was a fair arrangement, the labor was hard, but the tribesmen were used to very hard labor. The Priestess kept her promises, the tribesmen all received cattle, goats, seed and dwellings with arable soil around it.

The months and years passed, there were many pyramids built across the SourceLand, each contained a small ruby, and a Quiwsnartz obelisk. The Stone Mason guilds had fashioned two square-based pyramids in the shimmering mineral. These were added to the inventory. Each had been hollowed out in the center of the base and that cavity had been lined with gold. The cavity in each was the receptacle for one-half of the Quiwsnartz, and by fitting them together a Cronsherive was produced. This artifact in particular was at the heart of the success of the People. Travel, anywhere instantly, the Cronsherive via a Priestess was a powerful technology indeed.

The model Cronsherive ships were all assembled and tested and found to be in working order. They were then disassembled and each piece was stored in its own specially made cache. The interior of the pyramid was covered with pictograms and runes describing the device. Other pyramids contained the recorded history of the Peoples. Others contained arts, crafts and cultural artifacts. The wishes of the Oracle were being carried out.

The communities of the Arabic laborers had grown over the years, families had children and grand-children. The population had swelled until the granted land could no longer sustain that amount of people. New land was accessed and a city began to grow. The original promise between the the Princess and the clansmen did not apply to the progeny. Unrest and distrust grew between the Peoples and the Tribesmen.

The Priestess grew old, her control of the ebony obelisk for so many years had turned her disposition dark and moody. The mathematician was a slight, whip-thin shell of a man. His skin was stretched tight over his bones to the point of emaciation. His eyes sat back deep in his skull, dark shadows formed under the skin and made the impression even more cadavorous. However, his eyes burned with a deep concentrated fire and his gaze was focused to a needle point that would likely pierce his subject. She was given an order to survey the area around the Arabic settlements. She gathered her crew and the taciturn mathematician and started her flight.

The settlements had grown large indeed, there were at least ten to fifteen thousand people in the city and a few hundreds had worked their way into the surrounding jungles where farms were built. As the priestess observed and recorded, she felt a change in her control of the craft. She looked over quickly to the mathematician, who was clutching the side of his head. As she moved toward him, he began to cough blood and it flowed from his nose and ears. He took one last look at the princess and fell over dead.

The enormity of the Quiwsnartz quickly overcame all of her control and the craft plummeted out of the sky, embedding itself into the ground by melting the rock around its stern. As it drove deeper a fault appeared and was fed by the energies of the Quiwsnartz crystal. The land became liquid, tremors and ground waves spread out concentrically from the crash site. Earthquakes shook the ground until all the dormant volcanoes triggered at once. The Land of the Peoples was shattered, the settlements of the Arabic clans were split apart. Small pockets of survivors retreated away from the active areas. Time passed, the survivors found each other and grouped together and slowly florished again. Some of the Peoples knowledge was retained but most was lost to legend. The crashed traveler set silent, waiting through the ages to be found again.

Signals

A small bell chimed, Kienttee looked up from his other chores to see a gray blue pigeon starting to feed heavily in the cote. Kienttee noticed the small bone cylinder attached to the leg of the pigeon and slowly moved toward it. Making gentle soothing sounds, Kienttee managed to grasp the pigeon without startling it. He removed the bone cylinder from its leg and returned the bird back to its perch. The bird ruffed its wings a few times, and held Kienttee's gaze with a stare of its own. Satisfied, the bird turned back to the feed as Kienttee set off to deliver the message.

Some time later, Mark Fairvictory, in stunned disbelief, had read the message from DeKabanbouy several times. It seemed to him that his first course of action was to notify Lord Swithington that his daughter was safe. Once that was done arrangements for a rescue expedition should be made. It should be done in haste, Fairvictory thought, the supplies that the Drake had carried wouldn't last long. He simply could not imagine that this uncharted island could be large enough to support the shipwrecked crew indefinitely.

Fairvictory remembered that a telegraph line had finally been strung into Capetown. He visited the office and sent a wire to Lord Archibald Swithington describing the message received about his daughter and the rest of the Drake's crew. The wire from Fairvictory to Swithington was repeated from office to office until it reached England. But also during this time, his message was intercepted and sent off to other expansionist governments by agents that were paid to eavesdrop on their behalf. In a matter of days, several governments of Europe knew about the shipwreck and its location. Speculation grew about this "uncharted island" and what else may be found in the region.

After sending the wire, Fairvictory visited the East Indies company to see if a ship was available to use for rescue. At this time there were none in port, but the RMS Smytheton was due any day. This steamer was under the command of Captain Trevor Swetham. Fairvictory knew him to be a good pilot, if a bit taciturn and humorless. Nevertheless, Fairvictory was convinced that the aid of Swetham could be enlisted. So he began his visits to the various shipping offices in Capetown to arrange provisions and supplies as quickly as possible for a rescue. Soon the whole town was buzzing about the shipwreck and the island that was not on any map.

Swithington

A cold soaking rain gently splashed off the leaded glass windows of the study. Idly swirling a glass of eighteen-year-old whiskey, Lord Archibald Swithington read the cable yet again. He noted that all were reported in good health; that meant his daughter was alive. Fitzsimmons must be alive too, which meant that Sarah would always have a protector, not that she couldn’t take care of herself, if needed. But he knew the Sgt. Major and how devoted to his daughter Fitzsimmons had become. That gave him a feeling of some relief.

In his imagination, he could see an impish grin under big green eyes and cherished the startling resemblance to her mother. Grace Swithington and the baby had died in childbirth many years ago. All that had been left was Sarah and himself. They had become very close while dissipating the grief, and she had accompanied him on many archaeological expeditions. Maybe not the proper upbringing that Grace might have given her, but a remarkable education nevertheless. Sarah was his life. It was time to make plans.

Swithington was intrigued by the location of the island mentioned in the cable. The area had evidently never been mapped. The fact that it was so remote meant that he should prepare for an extended journey. The little idea that burned in the back of his mind would not be extinguished. A passage to the center of a theoretical hollow earth might be found at last! The Hollow Earth theory had been a pet of his for a number of years. He had been on countless trips searching for evidence to support this theory. He had been spelunking in Scotland, Iceland, Greenland, Norway and Finland looking for a passage to an inner earth all to no avail. He still believed, with renewed optimism, that an inner earth existed.

Swithington sipped his whiskey, and walked over to the desk. Sitting down, he began to write a list of items that he would take on this new expedition. As he wrote and the list lengthened, he realized that this would be a major undertaking. He would need to contact his friends in the Merchant Marine and arrange for a good size ship. Foodstuffs, medical supplies, guns and ammunition were high on his list. He would also take the spelunking gear and a tunneling machine. He would bring several of the Military Version Impervious Suits. These provided a person an armored exoskeleton and tremendously strong manipulators. Also down in his lab was the newly finished SCIMBS or Steam and Clockwork powered Impervious Mechanical Bipedal Servant. This might be the perfect trip for field trials of the SCIMBS.

Clank, Clank, Pssh, Hsss, Grrrloink! Swithington looked up from his writing and smiled. A little clockwork cat was looking at him and lashing its tail back and forth. He reached down and wound the mainspring key a few clicks. KATZ would be coming too, of course. Swithington continued to make his plans. The whiskey and the sounds of the gentle rain were forgotten.

The French Arrive

The French heard about Zimdar by eavesdropping on the telegraph cables like the rest of the European powers. Their Navy was immediately interested in establishing a coaling station for their vessels on Zimdar. When word of the fantastical discoveries started coming in, the expedition was expanded to include a scientific team.

The expedition is led by Captain Armand d'Hubert commanding the cruiser Surcouf. The senior military officer is one Gabriel Feraud, commanding the marine and armed sailor contingent. These two hate each other, a situation arising from a series of duels that their grandfathers and fathers fought during the Napoleonic era. Capt d'Hubert takes a rational approach to the organization of the expedition and keeps his berth on the Surcouf while he billets Feraud on the troopship Herimone, besides the Herimone sails like a drunken sailor with gout and there is every possibility that Feraud will have a massive case of seasickness. The Herimone is carrying the Marines and small arms for the sailors as well as two Gatling Guns purchased before leaving. The French Marines are using this as a field trial for the Gatling Guns. The Herimone is also carrying the mechanical parts (boilers, propellers, nuts and bolts, etc) for the construction of two small river steam launches in addition to the one complete river launch it is carrying on its aft deck.

Just before sailing from France the Chief Scientist for the expedition was badly injured when set upon by thieves. How fortuitous it is that a replacement was found almost on the expedition's doorstep. Dr Emile Sinisterre is a strange and dark little man that tends to have a sneer permanently painted on his face. He also tends to mumble to himself. He is not liked by anyone, but due to schedule he is selected to join the party.

Finally the expedition sets out and after making landfall on Zimdar, they spend a few weeks searching the coast line for a likely spot for their coaling station. One of the desires is to be near a mouth of a river so they can use their launches to explore further inland. They finally find just the place, set up camp and begin working to build a permanent station. Their settlement is indeed near the mouth of a large river and that has a large marsh off to the southwest. The marsh is the home of millions of amphibian animals including frogs. After several days eating the delicacies offered by the marsh and some rudimentary cooking, they gladly christen their settlement "Jambes d' Grenouille".

A Glimpse of Germans

.....meanwhile, back in the Fatherland...."Zo you zay zis, zis, X-matter allows things heavier zan air to float", the Kaiser asked in disbelief. "Ya", his aide replied,"it iz found is zis new land called Zimdar". The Kaiser stared at a model of his latest Dreadnaught sitting on his desk. Then he got an idea. An awful idea. The Grinch, er, Kaiser got a wonderful, awful idea.

[[[ Flash ]]]
Report from Agent J. Francis Gardner of Her Majesty's Special Services ...10th of June at secret German Military Base on North Sea..... Dressed as a German Marine Private, I snuck aboard the SS Keonigsburg while at dock and witnessed the following bizarre experiment: The ship sailed approximately half a mile out to sea and stopped. We did not, however, weigh anchor. Instead the group of high officials, including the Kaiser himself, and scientists went down into the hold. There a largish rock of black, irridescent material was bolted with metal straps to the hull. One of the new electrical generators was attached. When the switch was thrown, electrical energy surged through the rock. What happened next was amazing,. The ship actually began to.........Message ends here. Agent Gardner's body was found a week ago outside Paris. Foul play is suspected.

The Jewel of Myhohotep

Legend had long expounded on a jewel of magnificent size and beauty that had exhibited extraordinary powers. Over the ages the jewel was rumored to imbue the owner with traits that matched his or her personality and desires. It was said these powers could be transferred to inanimate objects and these were then controlled by the owner of the jewel, but that was never clearly described. Thus, over the millennia, the jewel had been used for good and evil. The last reports of the existence of the jewel were over one hundred years old, and it was assumed that the jewel was lost forever. Its name was Myhohotep.

Professor Archibald Swithington had made landfall on Zimdar some months before, and after a fabulous reunion with his daughter Sarah had become engrossed with exploring this strange sub-continent. The flora and fauna was a strange mixture of pre-historic and modern plants and animals. Each of these assumed their own particular niches in the food chain and natural pecking order.

Exploration of Zimdar uncovered vast resources of minerals, including the strange X-Matter substance that could defy gravity when exposed to electricity. This discovery alone made Zimdar a target for subjugation. On one of his many wanderings, Swithington discovered a pyramid in the remote regions of Zimdar. Actually, if truth be told, all regions of Zimdar were remote. During the initial discovery of the pyramid, Swithington and his party were accosted by several groups of natives that chased his party away from the entrance before he could determine how to enter the structure. He was determined to return to the pyramid, gain access and explore it. Who knew what could lay within? There certainly would be archeological treasures inside.

Swithington made his plans and with his faithful guide Nocshee Azih gathered some of the toughest Askari together to return to the pyramid. The plan was to return to the area at dusk, slip into the valley during the evening and get inside the pyramid. This plan was predicated on the belief that the natives of the area would be too superstitious to be anywhere near after the sun set. The plan worked to a point, Swithington and party were able to return to the pyramid and gain access to it. Swithington had worked quickly, he had made a rubbing on his previous visit and had time to study it.

Once inside the pyramid, Swithington was amazed by the amount of ancient artifacts that he found, He ordered his men to begin packing the gold and jewels in various barrels while he examined some of the more esoteric treasures. The pyramid was a tomb that contained two sarcophagi and appeared to be Egyption in nature. One was much smaller than the other, possibly for a child. However, before Swithington could open either for a closer examination, his attention was drawn to the skeletal remains of a corpse in the corner of the chamber.

He had been killed by a spear through the heart, but that was not had grabbed the Professor's attention. Around the dead man's neck was a necklace, it was a simple setting of gold wire holding the largest and most flawless ruby he had ever seen. It was the length and breadth of his thumb and shaped like a faceted teardrop. When he saw it, the ruby was an acquiescent dull red, since very little light was being collected in the gloom. As he approached the ruby, he sensed a pulsing resonance beginning deep in the crystal. It must be his imagination. He was drawn to the jewel as if he didn't have control of his own volition. The nearer he got the brighter the ruby became, and he realized it was pulsing in rhythm to his own heart beat. As he reached out to touch the ruby, he became aware of another, much larger crystal, lying on the floor and covered in dust. It too was pulsing to the rhythm of his heart but in counter-point to the ruby. It was hard to see the large crystal pulsing, it was almost like it was pulsing between a visible ebony and an abyss-like darkness. The large black crystal was huge, easily three foot long by one half foot in diameter. It would probably weigh one hundred pounds, maybe more. A sense of foreboding came over Swithington as he stared at it. Wrenching his gaze away from the black crystal, he returned to observing the ruby and again was overcome to reach out and take it from the neck of the corpse.

As his hand closed over the ruby, he had the sensation of a jolt of electricity throughout his body. All his senses became heightened as if he could hear the smallest whisper or see as an eagle. He also became aware of the vastness of the dark jewel which was now pulsing in parallel with his heart and the ruby. The internal crystalline lattice of the stone was immense, if he let his mind drift he could detect lattice inside lattice. There was a seemingly endless matrix structure to the crystal. He felt he could reach out through the ruby and then through the dark jewel and move mountains. He was ecstatic; he could do anything, crush any enemy, and grant any wish. It was incredible, it was rapturous, and it was…too momentous. What would his sainted wife Grace have said to have fantasies like this? Reluctantly he released the beautiful gem and returned to himself.

This thing, this jewel defied imagination. He needed much more time to study and a safer place in which to do so. He ordered that the black monolith be packed carefully, in a small barrel. He wrapped the ruby in his handkerchief and stuck it in his rucksack. Once it was safely tucked away, he turned his attention to the other contents of the pyramid, and began carefully packing other items of note. This went on for several hours and as they finished and began the transport of barrels and sacks out of the structure he realized that it was daybreak. At this point his carefully laid plan failed miserably. As his heavily encumbered group exited the pyramid they were met by an eerily quiet valley; a sense of being watched was prevalent. Then suddenly the drums started, first off to the north and quickly answered from the south, east and west.

Swithington shouted to all to scatter and make their way back to the camp. Precisely at this moment a hail of arrows pelted the ground around him and his Askari. Two were killed immediately, spurring the others to follow his orders with elan. Scatter they did, going in whatever direction that seemed to lead to safety, barrels and bags were discarded in attempts for more speed. The professor lost track of the barrel with the dark stone, but was too preoccupied with saving his own neck to worry about it. He and Nocshee made a beeline toward the South-East hugging cover whenever possible. As they made there way out of the valley they managed to avoid anymore serious encounters and returned to their base camp relatively unscathed. As the day passed and his men slowly returned, which delighted him, he grew more and more despondent about the lack of barrels and archeological treasure accompanying them. Swithington set about bandaging his men in a perfunctory manner. He was preoccupied; ruminating about returning to the pyramid and recovering the Jewel. He could still feel it, way off in the distance, beckoning to him. He and Nocshee sat by the fire, late into the evening discussing possibilities for recovering the Jewel.