The Mummies of Blogspace9: Chapter Twenty-Nine

July 7, 2011
Magdalena de Paz, Peru
Samples      http://www.greatbigLeon.blogspace9.ex

Bruce, it’s been four days, man.  How about giving us a shout out?  Otherwise, we’re left wagering as to your demise.  Did the hot mummy eat you, or did you escape through the tunnel only to be captured by Albanian gangsters?  Dude, if you’re some gun runner’s goomar, then I can understand your silence.  But if not, send us some love.

We’ve had quite an adventure here these last few days.  Let me catch you up: I’ve been doing some excavating; it has been informative.  Also, Segovia shot a ninja in my bedroom, and a demon dog out by the TV.  In addition, Lane is back; she and I are lovers now.  Oh yeah, and I think I figured out where the gold is.

I’m sitting here in the pyramid’s outer chamber.  I’ve got the laptop set up on a pile of adobes (and yes, the laptop is back, I’ll get to that), and I’m tracking shipping through thePanama Canal.  I’m also eating a tuna sandwich and having a staring contest with one of the mukis in the back chamber.  I think I’m winning but I can’t tell; you can’t really look at them full on.

The Parador Joya, the cargo ship carrying Kim, passed through the Panama Canal yesterday, and is currently steaming past Colombia.  I tried sending a message to Kim on one of the maritime channels, but there was no response.  I’m not sure exactly what I would say anyway – missing your cold embrace? 

Three nights ago, I woke up in a sweat to find Segoviastanding over me wearing nothing but that little robe of his.  His knees were shiny in the moonlight.  “Dude, I’m lonely too,” I told him, “but it’s not going to happen.”  Then he whipped out his guns and started shooting.

I gotta say, I’m getting a little tired of that guy firing his guns inches from my head, but looking back, the damaged eardrums were a small price to pay.  Next thing I know, there was a dead ninja on my floor with an axe in his hand.  An axe, can you believe that?  Axes were already out of fashion by the time of the Vikings.  

“Why is there a dead ninja in my room?” I screamed.

Segovia gave me a funny look as he reloaded his guns.  “What is a ninja?”  Then he told me to make sure the front door was locked.

Who doesn’t know what a ninja is?  The front door was not locked, of course.  And just as I got there, this giant howling wolf flew into the room, and knocked me over the couch. Segovia shot it a bunch of times.  He called it a mastiff.  Apparently, they are fighting dogs of a kind used by the conquistadors.

So what the hell was that all about?  You could ask Erdulfo, but one look at the dead ninja and the dog, and he turned ashen.  He packed his bags, grabbed Flora, and left.  Half the earth’s walking mummies live on our block, and Erdulfo gets freaked out by a ninja and a demon dog.  I don’t get it.

Segovia claims the man was a killer.  He’s an astute fellow, isn’t he?  Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy.  I owe him my life, but since ninjas with demon dogs don’t normally drop by to peddle life insurance, OF COURSE HE WAS A KILLER.

Lane showed up the next day.  She stopped by Trujillo on her way.  Evidently, our stolen computers and equipment turned up, and the police were willing to return it all to her.  The hard drives are wiped, but we got online and managed to reboot everything.

So today I’m taking it easy.  I’m sitting here in the pyramid, hanging out with my muki homie.  I’ve been throwing corn chips at him all morning, and by now he can catch them in his mouth. I suspect he’s grateful because he throws me presents in return.  A breastplate just landed by my feet.  I also have two greaves and a gauntlet.  If I keep this up, by the end of the week I’ll have a full set of conquistador armor.

July 7, 2011
Magdalena de Paz, Peru
Cavalcante          http://www.diggirl.blogspace9.ex

First of all, Leon and I are not lovers.  I don’t know why he says things like that at a time like this, but rest assured, that day will never come.  But he is off his rocker. 

He’s made a mess of things, archaeologically speaking.  He did a lot of digging before I showed up, and he didn’t record any of it.  He didn’t take notes.  He didn’t fill out any lot forms.  There are no elevations marked.  This isn’t even archaeology, it’s just random digging.

So yesterday, he and I spent the whole day trying to repair his damage while looking for this tumi thing, this shaman’s tumi.  But we didn’t find anything.  We looked exactly where Sebastiano’s diary said it should be – under the little shed behind his house. 

The problem is, like every other frigging building here, even that little adobe shed was rebuilt six or seven times, so it’s hard to know where the original walls were.  And then of course Leon tore through half of it before I got back, so it’s a mess.  And we’ve dug through three floors already, so I don’t know where to look next.

Leon says he knows where the gold is but he won’t tell me.  Honestly, Bruce, I can’t tell if he’s kidding or not, so could you maybe send him a note?  Because if the gold is here somewhere, we need to find it fast before more goons show up.

And I can’t believe I’m even writing this sentence, but could you please discourage this friendship Leon has cultivated with the imp inside the pyramid.  It’s not healthy.  He named it Clyde.