A WINTER'S TALE

By Sarah O'Donoghue

This story was originally posted on The Unofficial Nicodemus Legend Homepage
Disclaimer
The Legend characters (except Helen Franklin) belong to Paramount and Gekko film corp. This story is written purely for the entertainment of others. copyright 1999 Sarah O'Donoghue Acknowledgements
With thanks to the usual suspects: Steve, Paul & Mark. This story fulfils two goals that I've had for a while - to write a Ramos story and to write a multi-part serial.The story is very loosely based upon the themes presented in The Winter's Tale by William Shakespeare. Ifyou don't know the play, don't worry, the story will still make sense, but if you do you'll be able to find lotsof extra levels incorporated into the story.

EPISODE ONE - A VISIT TO CECILIA

Part 1

A cold north wind was blowing in from the mountains as dusk began to turn to night. Snow began to fall; swirling into flurries that drove up into little piles at the sides of the wooden buildings they met. As the weather got worse, a small figure could be seen trudging up a track from the town below, heading towards a set of buildings on the crest of a hill. As darkness fell, the figure appeared to stumble, but recovered and continued to plow onwards towards its goal.

"Oh come on, Ernest, I think it�s a wonderful ideal" said Libbie Custer as she crossed over to her beau.

"No! No! No! I refuse to give up my creative control. A writer's integrity is sacrosanct!" Ernest Pratt, creator (and occasional impersonator), of Nicodemus Legend, stood from the chair he had been sitting on and began to prowl the room.

A snort of laughter went up from the three other people gathered in Janos Kristoff Bartok's laboratory. He and Ramos were hosting a sociable evening at the scientific Compound overlooking the town of Sheridan.

Their friend, Ernest Pratt, and his sweetheart, Libbie Custer had joined them for dinner and a demonstration of a new machine of Ramos' creation. One the two scientists were convinced would ease one of Pratt's most hated chores.

"Oh come on, Ernest, it's a splendid idea! Ramos has been working on the Ramos Automated Letter Generator for three weeks! It has been tested thoroughly and really does produce some remarkable results!"

Pratt sighed. Ever since E.C. Allen had announced that he was going to have to deal with his own fan mail in the future, the writer had complained, groused and generally made his friends' lives a misery. Finally, the quiet Ramos had enough and decided to create a solution. The machine he had created could actually 'read' letters that were fed into it by means of his colleague's Bartok Light Emitting Data Detector. It 'looked' for certain key words and then selected fixed sentences from punch cards, which it put together into a letter according to pre-determined connections. It then printed and spat out finished letters which Pratt merely needed to sign and mail.

Bartok had been greatly impressed with his colleague's innovative use of an invention he had originally designed as a navigation tool. Libbie had been delighted, and had tried to persuade Pratt that it was going to save a lot of time (more specifically, her time, as she had been drafted to reply to the majority of fan letters that had been coming in). However, Pratt had been dismayed when he had set eyes on the machine earlier in the evening, and had taken to ranting about 'creative control.'

Suddenly, a knock came at the door. Ramos, seeing an ideal opportunity to escape the (reasonably good natured) wrath of Pratt, went to answer it. A heavily bundled up figure virtually fell into the doorway, bringing a whirl of snow with them. The figure threw back the hood of the coat to reveal a tangle of long, blond hair. The woman straightened up and smiled at everyone, but her gaze fixed on a certain Hungarian scientist.

"Helen!" exclaimed a delighted Bartok. The usually reserved scientist crossed to the doorway in long strides and wrapped his arms round the newcomer. Ramos tried to look elsewhere, clearly embarrassed by this uncharacteristic display of affection. Pratt just theatrically rolled his eyes and was about to make a sarcastic comment. Thankfully, Libbie, who could tell exactly what was going through the writer's mind, gave him a sharp nudge so that all that came out was a strangled yelp.

Bartok helped the newcomer to get out of her travelling clothes, and then brought her over to the fireplace.

The others welcomed her warmly. Pratt and Bartok had met Helen Franklin, descendent of the famous Benjamin Franklin, a few weeks previously up in Montana at E.C. Allen's Ranch. Bartok had found friendship and, indeed, some romantic interest in the beautiful fellow scientist and, after his return to Sheridan, he had received a telegram from Helen to say that she couldn't wait to come and see him.

"Why didn't you tell us when you were arriving?" asked Bartok, his voice full of concern. "Now that winter's closing in, the road from Sheridan can be extremely hazardous. I would have met you if you'd told us you were arriving!"

"It's all right," Helen reassured him in a warm voice, "I wanted to surprise you all. I took a room at the hotel in town and came right on up here." She took in everyone in the room and the surprised expressions their faces. "And," she continued, "I think I've done rather well!"

"You certainly have, Miss Franklin," said Pratt smoothly, his indignation dissipating as quickly as it had come. "May I introduce my friend, Libbie Custer," he indicated Libbie and the two women, one blonde, one dark, shook hands cordially.

Helen murmured pleasantries and then looked inquiringly at the smaller mustached man. Bartok came out of the daze he'd been in since Helen had been in the room with a start.

"Where are my manners!" he admonished himself. "Helen, may I introduce my scientific associate Huitzlipochli Ramos."

Ramos stepped forward and also shook the newcomer's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ramos," said Helen warmly. "I understand that you and Janos have accomplished some remarkable advances in many scientific fields."

Ramos smiled politely but said nothing.

Bartok was the perfect host as he poured out a drink and elegantly passed it to Helen. As their hands briefly made contact, they both smiled.

Pratt cleared his throat loudly, and the spell was broken. Bartok and Helen sprung apart and Helen began turn go red, a color change that couldn't be completely attributed to the cold.

"What say we go over my new manuscript, folks?" asked Pratt. "E.C. Allen wants me, or rather us, to perform a demonstration of Legend's crime fighting abilities at a writers symposium in Atlanta just before Christmas. Ned Buntline's going to be there, so we need to upstage him as much as possible."

Bartok smiled. Pratt welcomed any chance to humiliate his chief rival in dime novels and, since the "death" of Wild Bill Hickok the previous year, Buntline had been struggling to keep his sales levels up. "All right, Ernest, let's have a look at the new ideas for technical achievements that you've dreamed up."

The evening passed quickly and pleasantly for all concerned, with Helen Franklin joining Bartok and Ramos in pooling ideas of scientific expertise. Pratt outlined the ideas for new Legend tools and a transport that he'd incorporated into his new book, while Libbie, an extremely promising artist, presented some line drawings of Nicodemus Legend in action that E.C. Allen was willing to print in the next book. Finally, one of Bartok's clocks chimed midnight. Helen looked at it anxiously. "I really should be getting back to the hotel in town," she admitted. "The weather might get even worse." Pratt and Libbie echoed her concerns, but Bartok held up a hand.

"Nonsense. We have plenty of room here to accommodate several guests. You should all stay here tonight. It would be foolhardy to attempt the journey back to Sheridan in this weather."

"Thank you Janos," said Helen with a smile. "I must admit I wasn't looking forward to the journey."

As everyone began to clear up the glasses and papers that had become strewn around the laboratory during the evening, Helen took Bartok to one side. "Janos," she began, "I've just submitted the last essay that I'm contracted for to the 'Scientist' magazine. I don't really have any immediate plans so . . ."

"You'd like to stay on in Sheridan for a while!" finished Bartok, his eyes lighting up. "My dear, I'd be delighted!" He looked around and caught Ramos' eye, his fellow scientist crossed over and looked at them with a quizzical expression.

"Ramos, Miss Franklin is going to be staying in Sheridan for a while. Would you have any objections if she assists us in our research?"

Ramos looked a little surprised but he answered in an even tone. "Of course not! Miss Franklin," he addressed her directly. "It would be a pleasure to have your input. I have read several of your articles and your work on light beam sensitivity could really help us with the Automated Letter Generator."

"I'd love to Ramos," she smiled. "And in fact," she admitted, "I have something which I believe you can help me with."

Helen went to her heavy travelling cloak, which was on a wall peg, and pulled out a small wallet, which she passed to the two men.

Bartok took the wallet and opened it: a small, crumbling piece of manuscript fell out. Bartok handled it carefully. "It's very brittle," he observed, "I believe it is papyrus."

Ramos took it from him and examined the strange drawings on the fragment. "Professor, I believe these are hieroglyphics; Egyptian hieroglyphics!"

Bartok looked at it again. "I believe you're right!" he exclaimed. The Professor turned to Helen. "Where did this come from?" he asked.

"You'll never believe this," said Helen with a little smile, "but it came from Central America."

"That's impossible!" snorted Pratt, who'd crossed the room without the three scientists noticing, and peeked over Ramos' shoulder. "The Egyptians were in Egypt!" Pratt frowned momentarily, realizing that the redundancy probably sounded rather stupid and obvious.

"But many of the ancient civilizations bear a remarkable resemblance to each other," remarked Ramos. "If this did come from where Miss Franklin believes, we could have an astounding find on our hands!"

Part Two

An amazing and unprecedented event occurred the next morning: Ernest Pratt got up early. Indeed, he was the first person up at the Compound. He trudged across the icy ground to the laboratory, planning to brew up some extra strong coffee and to stretch out on one of the sofas until everyone else got up.

He slid the bolts on the door and went inside the building, giving his eyes a few moments to readjust from the brilliant white glare of the glittering snow to the relative gloom of the laboratory. Pratt crossed over to Bartok's breakfast making equipment and was just measuring out the coffee when he caught a movement out of he comer of his eye - he yelped with surprise.

"It's all right, Mr. Pratt, it's only me," came a voice from the shadows.

"Ramos?" Pratt thought he recognized the voice. "What are you doing up at this time?"

Ramos got up from the workbench he had been sitting at and crossed the room to Pratt. The writer couldn't help noticing that the usually immaculately groomed scientist was wearing very rumpled clothes and had deep shadows under his eyes. "Actually, Mr. Pratt," he admitted, "I haven't been to bed yet." He indicated the workbench where he'd been seated. It was covered with piles of books and haphazardly strewn sheets of paper. "I've been examining the papyrus that Miss Franklin showed us last night - it's truly fascinating!"

The usually reserved scientist was animated with enthusiasm as he explained the findings he' d made overnight.

"We've always known that the Ancient Egyptian culture was extremely advanced. They had detailed knowledge of astronomy, physics, engineering. The list just goes on! Who is to say that they, or another ancient civilization, couldn't cross the oceans and spread their culture to different continents? My own people, the Aztecs, built incredible pyramidal temples that resemble the Egyptian pyramids in many ways, and their have also been rumors of amazing temples of similar design in the Far East. I have been rereading my notes from the archaeological seminars that I attended at Harvard. One of my professors had a theory that all of these ancient civilizations were connected, or were even branches of the same civilization! If we could find further substantiating evidence from the same site this papyrus fragment came from, it could be the archaeological discovery of the century!"

"I think lack of sleep could be going to your head, Ramos!" said Bartok from the doorway. He had come in a few moments after Pratt, but he had got the drift of Ramos' suggestions.

"Don't worry, Ramos, I agree with you," said Helen Franklin as she came into the room behind Bartok. She looked at the Professor with a challenging smile." I received that fragment from a colleague of mine three months ago and, after a great deal of deliberation I have come to exactly the same conclusion. You have to admit, Professor Bartok," she addressed him formerly to tease him, "that based on the current evidence it, is a plausible conclusion."

Bartok chose to say nothing, but couldn't hold Helen's gaze. Instead, he rapidly changed the subject and suggested that they make breakfast.

Later that day, after Pratt had escorted Libbie and Helen back to the hotel (he could be as much of a gentleman as Nicodemus Legend when he wanted to be) the writer adjourned to the Buffalo Head Saloon for a cup of warming 'tea.' He took a seat by the window that looked onto Main street and was just settling down to read some of his more interesting fan letters when he saw a slowly moving object in the sky in the corner of his eye. He idly looked up to see what it was and his jaw nearly hit the table. The Legend Balloon was sailing over the town!

He jumped up, the teacup falling to the floor and bounded out of the front of the building. Unfortunately, Skeeter, who was on road clearing duty, hadn't got around to sweeping the snow away from the front of the saloon and Pratt suddenly found himself sliding over on a particularly icy patch. The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back with the Legend Balloon directly above him. Surprise overrode his concern as the cold wet snow began to seep into his jacket. He yelled up at the balloon. "Hey! What's goin' on, Bartok?"

To his surprise he saw Ramos' face look over the side of the wicker basket.

"I'm going to Denver for supplies, Mr. Pratt! I'm preparing for a rather special expedition. I should be back by nightfall."

The balloon was rapidly leaving Pratt's field of vision, so he scrambled to his feet and began running after the balloon. "Ramos, what expedition?" he yelled.

"Go and talk to Professor Bartok," came the faint response, "I'll see you later, Mr. Pratt!"

Pratt gave up and settled for a jovial farewell wave in Ramos' direction. A sudden cold breeze reminded him that the snow on the back of his clothes was beginning to melt. "Ugh, I've got a wet behind!" he complained under his breath, and raced back to the hotel as fast as his dignity would allow. He needed a change of clothes before heading up to the Compound once again.

Part Three

". . . So, after our little discussion this morning, Ramos has decided that he wishes to go to the site the papyrus fragment was found, in an attempt to prove his and Miss Franklin's theory," finished Bartok, a resigned tone in his voice.

"Frankly, Ernest," he continued, "I'm quite worried about Ramos. It's most uncharacteristic for him to rush off on such a foolhardy quest."

"Bartok," said Pratt softly, "Have you ever thought about how Ramos feels being your assistant? He's a scientist in his own right, remember, and I think he might be feeling a little stifled working under your supervision all the time "

"It's not like that at all, Ernest!" protested Bartok, "Ramos and I work as equals."

"But whose name are the patents registered under? Who owns this research facility?" reminded Pratt.

Bartok went quiet. "Yes, you have a point there, Ernest," he admitted. "But why doesn't he speak with me directly? Why this determination to travel thousands of miles on such a fanciful expedition?"

"Bartok, you know Ramos better than I do, but direct confrontation just isn't his way. Remember when he left suddenly last year to go and find the truth about the skeleton we found with the Aztec ring? He didn't say a word to us. He just left a note. I think that this trip on his own would be the perfect opportunity for him to stretch his wings a little more and," he continued, "I know he's been researching his Aztec roots a lot more since that incident. He's probably in a very good position to go on this trip."

"But he shouldn't go alone," protested Bartok.

"To be honest, I think he needs to," continued Ernest "I think that now that we both have female . . . acquaintances, he feels a little left out of things. Perhaps five can be a crowd as much as three. We should let him go."

Bartok sighed, "I suppose you are right," he admitted, "But I will ensure that he takes the Bartok Long Distance Emergency Electrical Signal Transmitter with him. Helen told me that her colleagues who discovered the papyrus fragment have established a base on the Mexican/Brazilian border. Ramos is planning on travelling to the beginning ot the Andes, along the Amazon river and he can use the base as a staging site."

"That's great!" Pratt proclaimed. "And perhaps we can persuade him to be back for Christmas!"

True to his word, Ramos returned by nightfall and Pratt, who had stayed on at the Compound, helped him and Bartok to unload the balloon. Ramos estimated that he would be ready to leave within three days and, after initial preparations, the three men went down into Sheridan and met Helen and Libbie for a late supper in the Silver King Hotel.

Inevitably, their conversation was dominated by the papyrus fragment and Ramos' imminent expedition. No matter what arguments Bartok used to dissuade him, Ramos was adamant. He would leave on schedule.

The next few days proved to be quite stressful for all concerned, as everyone pulled together to help Ramos gather the supplies he was going to need.

On Ramos' final evening in Sheridan, Bartok was just finishing flight preparations on the balloon as Helen and Ramos were discussing possible obstacles the scientist would face on his trek. As the light began to fade, the early winter evening became suddenly colder and Bartok looked up from his task, suddenly becoming aware of how numb his fingers were becoming.

"Hello there, Professor!" shouted a young male voice. Bartok stood up slowly, careful not to fall off the slippery edge of the balloon basket and turned to see Skeeter coming up the path to the balloon site. In the gathering gloom he could just make out the hotel wagon and horses tied up by the main laboratory.

"Hey there, Skeeter!" shouted a voice from Bartok's left. Pratt had just come out of the main house where he had been brewing up a huge hot pot of coffee for everyone.

Suddenly Bartok saw a small white object shoot from the left of his field of vision: from where Pratt was standing. He grinned when he realized what it was, and chuckled when he heard a *thwack* and a yell coming from Skeeter.

"Hey! No Fair!!!" shouted a muffled Skeeter through a mouthful of snowball. The younger man quickly scrabbled around to make a missile of his own, which he sent right back to the dime novel writer. Before anyone realized what was happening they had all joined in the madcap game, and the air was thick with snowballs and laughter.

Helen shrieked and laughed as one hit her on the back of the head and she quickly gathered up some soft snow that had fallen on the scaffold of the Lightning Tower, throwing a merciless volley of snowballs at everyone, not caring who had hit her in the first place.

The normally serious Ramos was hesitant to join in the fun, but decided to seize the moment, ducking behind a water trough, popping up occasionally to throw a snowball and then ducking down again. When he felt cold snow being shoved down his neck by the shy Libby, he let out a yelp of surprise and decided to retreat into the house.

The temporary regression into childish fun was a welcome release of stress for the six people. With new people coming into the Legend team's lives, and the issue of everyone trying to adjust to their new role and to get to know one another, the harmless fun of a snowball fight did everyone a great deal of good. Eventually, as the light finally went out the bedraggled group went inside, Libby and Helen gathering up their soggy skirts.

Ramos had prepared the coffee which they all drank gladly, sitting in a comfortable group around the roaring fire in the kitchen of the Compound house. After a while, Pratt slipped quietly out of the room and returned a few moments later with something obviously hidden behind his back. The group turned around, curious to see what the writer was carrying. With a flourish, Pratt produced a huge bottle of champagne.

"E.C. Allen sent this to me last week for selling half a million Legend books around the world," said Pratt with a smile. "I was going to save it for Christmas, but I think that this would be an excellent time to drink it, to toast Ramos and to wish him a safe journey."

"Here, here," echoed Bartok with a smile.

As the group clinked glasses, Ramos reflected that this group of people truly cared for him. Even though he had only known them for a scant time, he could see that Libbie and Helen were very special people. They were making his friends happy and that, in turn, made him happy.

Suddenly the reality of his separation from his friends really hit him. Tomorrow was going to be the beginning of a whole new chapter of his life. An adventure into the unknown, alone.

As the group began to break up into smaller groups once more, Pratt, seeing the uncertainty playing across

Ramos' face, pulled him aside.

"Y'know, Ramos, I really envy you."

"You do?" asked Ramos, puzzled.

"Well, I may write adventure stories, Ramos, but there's no way I could be an adventurer for real. Heck, until you and Bartok dragged me to Sheridan and showed me how much people believed in Legend, I was quite happy to drink myself to death in San Francisco."

Ramos' mouth twitched in a sardonic smile. "We hardly dragged you here, Mr. Pratt."

"Humph. Well, what I'm trying to say is that I really admire you, Ramos. Who knows what you're going to find on this trip," He brightened. "But, whatever it is, I want exclusive rights on the book deal!"

Pratt continued in a more serious vein. "I know that you've always felt in Bartok's shadow in some ways, Ramos. But you know, Bartok never meant to hold you back in any way. You don't need to prove anything to any of us."

Ramos smiled. "I know that, Mr. Pratt. You and Professor Bartok have done something very rare in my experience. You've treated me as an equal." He shrugged. "I just feel that I need to do something alone. I know I don't need to prove anything to you, but I think that I need to prove something to myself."

The friends talked late into the night, gradually dozing off on the large chairs in the kitchen. Ramos woke up with a start the next morning and looked out of the window. The morning had dawned, cold and clear with a further fresh fall of snow It was time to begin the adventure!!!

EPISODE TWO � THE JOURNEY TO BOHEMIA

Part One

Ramos collapsed in the undergrowth, breathing hard. The hot tropical climate had caused him to shed as many of his clothes as decency would allow but he was still sweating profusely. He may have had Aztec ancestry, but Huitzlipochli Ramos had grown accustomed to a much cooler climate in his time in North America.

Ramos' friends, Professor Bartok and Ernest Pratt had left him on the Mexican/Brazilian border nearly two weeks ago. Despite Bartok�s reservations, they reassured themselves that Ramos had the Bartok Long Distance Emergency Electrical Signal Transmitter with him and, in turn, reassured Ramos that, if summoned, they could be with him in a few days. Helen Franklin had presented him with a letter of introduction to her colleagues who had discovered the papyrus fragment and Ramos had spent several days in their company learning as much about their dig as he could. Despite their initial bemusement, the Aztec scientist's dedication soon became apparent to them and they provided him with a detailed map of the site where the fragment, and several others like it, had been found.

Ramos was anxious to move on and, after what he felt was a polite length of time to stay, he strapped his lightweight back package on and headed out into the rainforest. The scientist was only too aware of the dangers of the rainforest: one of his younger sisters had been killed by a lethal snakebite in an area similar to this and travelling in similar terrain brought back some very difficult memories.

Ramos had decided to follow the king of the earth's rivers: the Amazon, for as far as he could. After discussing his own research with Helen Franklin's friends he had speculated that if Ancient Egyptians had indeed come to this part of the world, they could well have penetrated the interior of the continent on this river. The Egyptians had used the Nile in a similar way in their homeland. While sceptical, the others agreed that this was at least remotely plausible, and so Ramos had decided that following this course would give him the best chance of finding something.

After ten days of hard hiking Ramos was starting to wonder if this whole expedition had been such a good idea. He hadn't been able to cover much ground as the way was hard and the climate debilitating. As the tropical night began to fall, Ramos lit a fire and cooked some of his rations and some fresh meat that he had prepared that morning and pulled out the papyrus fragment once again. In the flickering orange light of the fire with a symphony of clicks, whistles and rustling from the wildlife in the undergrowth Ramos once again examined the artefact.

He had had relatively little trouble in deciphering the hieroglyphics on the fragment: it was a prayer to Ra, Egyptian god of the sun, asking him to protect the writers who were far from home. Ramos had surmised that the writing could have come from an encampment of Ancient Egyptians who had travelled halfway around the world to this new, unknown land. He even entertained thoughts that they could have been colonists trying to expand the Egyptian Empire, or perhaps criminals sent into exile. As he turned the fragment over and over again he smiled to himself. So many possibilities. Which, if any, of them was true?

Part Two

The next day dawned overcast and muggy, Ramos struggled to clear up his campsite, performed his morning ablutions and then trudged on. When the sun was high in the sky Ramos sat down for a rest and pulled out his compass and maps.

The scientist had many skills that he had acquired over the years from all kinds of sources, cartography and orienteering among them. He rapidly calculated his position and sat back with a sigh as he had suspected he was less than a day�s travel from the find site. He trudged down the banks of the muddy, wide river and shading his eyes against the reflective glare, looked ahead. About a mile ahead he could see the Amazon forking into two directions, a small tributary flowing away inland, and Ramos decided to head in that direction.

As he got closer, the scientist began to make out a strange formation of trees a little to his right: the randomness and variation in density of the undergrowth turned into an extremely thick patch ahead and, growing intrigued, he headed that way.

Due to the constant danger of harmful insects and crawlers, Ramos always kept an eye on the ground he was covering, so that he didn't inadvertently tread on a snake or into a swarm of army ants. He had only been walking for a few minutes after his break when he suddenly felt a hard smooth shape beneath his foot, Ramos froze and looked down cautiously, scared to breathe and convinced that he'd just trod on something potentially lethal.

Instead, there was nothing beneath his feet but dirt. Curious now, Ramos scuffed the dirt, convinced that there must be something under the topsoil. Within seconds he had revealed a small and filthy flat stone, He quickly got down on all fours and, with the aid of a small digging tool, scrabbled around for the edges of the stone. As he had expected, they were regular. The stone had definitely been hewn by human hands!

Digging around further, Ramos found more and more of these stones, and with shaking and dirt encrusted hands, quickly pulled out his diary to make notes:

Diary - November 25 1877
I have now been travelling alone for eleven days, a state I have enjoyed, as there have been no distractions and nothing to expend mental energy on except for survival and the intriguing mystery at hand. Today I believe I have made the most exceptional discovery: small, neatly cut stones that do not appear to be native to this terrain, formed into the ruins of an ancient path. Have I discovered the outskirts of the Egyptian ruins I am convinced I will find?

Ramos looked up from his writing, and once again looked ahead to the thick patch or undergrowth: could it be connected to this remarkable find? he mused.

Suddenly struck by inspiration, Ramos jumped up, dusted himself off, and quickly jogged across to the outskirts of the trees. Using a small multipurpose tool, he tried to pry apart some of the undergrowth and then, swallowing hard and praying fervently that he wasn't about to get attacked or bitten, thrust his hand and arm into the dark, shadowy gap he had created. He scrabbled around for a few minutes, feeling nothing but plants and the occasional tickle of tiny insect legs and then suddenly his fingernails scraped something cool and hard: more stone, and at least sixty inches above the ground.

Thinking quickly. Ramos turned around and gazed back at his impromptu campsite where his equipment was effectively marking the stone pathway, as he lifted his eyes he could see the shimmering Amazon flowing left to right at a perfect right angle with the point he was standing. This hidden stone structure was in perfect alignment with the ruined path, which was in turn aligned with the great river! Ramos took a deep breath and then quickly strode back to his things and began to figure out just how he was going to uncover the enormous structure he had discovered.

Bending down over his back package Ramos began to rummage around, his mind racing. He deduced that he was going to need to improvise some digging tools. The Bartok Bendable Measuring Roll would also come in handy. Searching through the smaller pockets of his bags he dug out some basic climbing tools that he had packed just in case, and finally untied a long length of thick climbing rope.

He was just winding the rope around his waist, intent upon his task, when an explosion of pain went off inside his head and he knew no more.

Ramos woke with a start, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal a dark room. The humidity had increased, he realized, and beads of sweat ran down his brow. He was lying down on some kind of crude bed he realized and tilted his head to investigate further. Suddenly his head began to throb again and he groaned in pain, falling back on the bed.

A gentle touch made him open his eyes once more as a soft hand sponged his race with cool water. Even in the half gloom he could see that the woman bending over him was beautiful.

"Where am I?" he said in English.

The lady looked at him in confusion, so he repeated his question in his native Aztec language, then in Spanish, German, Greek, Hebrew and even in the broken Hungarian that Professor Bartok had taught him. Each attempt only seemed to confuse the woman further, but she evidently understood his meaning, and gestured that he was safe.

Deciding sign language was the only chance he had of communicating here, the Aztec scientist decided to begin with basics. Slowly raising a hand he pointed at his chest and said "Ramos." After a few attempts, the woman seemed to understand, and smiled. Putting down the cloth she had been using on his face she pointed to herself with one slender olive hand: "Ampata," she said.

"Ampata," Ramos repeated with a smile. "Thank you," and with that, the pain in his head became unbearable once more and he lost consciousness again.

Part Three

Over the next few days, Ramos' strength began to gradually return and he began to move about as much as his hosts would allow him. Being the eternal scientist, Ramos applied his keen intelligence and powers of observation to the environment and people around him, but he was annoyed that his scientific equipment had not followed him to this strange place. He was evidently in a small, self-enclosed town, and from the occasional vibrations he felt through the ground, tectonically unstable: earthquakes and tremors seemed to hit the town every' couple or days, although the occupants didn't appear to be alarmed. Being a confirmed scientist, he decided to make the most of this unusual opportunity, and to find out what he could.

Once he was strong enough to take walks, the lady, Ampata, began to show him around the town. Her dress was strange, but very fine and ornate and by the way others treated her, Ramos was able to gather that Ampata was a leader, or noblewoman of some kind. The people in the town dressed lightly for the humid weather and gave Ramos clothing similar to their own which he gladly accepted. Everyone lived in simple, stone structures, which caused Ramos to surmise he was in some very, isolated village deep within the Amazon interior. However, the ethnicity of the people around him didn't seem consistent with his theory, as he knew the people in that part of the world generally had darker skin and a compact build. The people around him were generally tall and slender with a delicate olive complexion. Where was he?

Ramos was provided with food regularly in his dwelling, but always with a bodyguard stationed outside. His food was very simple, and lacking the spices that he was familiar with in South America, which added to his puzzle. At mealtimes the town appeared deserted, leaving Ramos to assume that the people here ate communally, perhaps in a central building. He tried to indicate his questions to Ampata, but he just couldn't make her understand. All she offered was a small smile at his unlimited curiosity for her home.

On the first few days of his wanderings, he looked around the middle section of the town, always with Ampata or a sullen bodyguard figure at his side. Ampata had indicated that he was to be accompanied at all times. He surmised that he was very much being kept in the central ring of the town, but was not allowed into the true center of town or the outskirts.

One day he spent several minutes painstakingly drawing a diagram in the dirt in his house to indicate that he wanted to see these restricted parts. Ampata seemed to reluctantly agree and took him to the edges of the fine stone buildings that everyone lived in. As she lead him towards the planting area, Ramos stopped dead in his tracks, stunned. Ahead of him were rows and rows of huge, irrigated fields filled with rows of what were obviously slaves: row upon row of men wearing only simple loincloths, being cruelly driven by muscular men, like Ampata's bodyguards with whips under a blazing sun.

Ramos was an excellent linguist, and in his short stay in this strange place had begun to pick up a basic understanding of these people's strange language. In hesitant, broken speech he asked: "What is this?"

Ampata's reply contained a distinct note of surprise at his question. From her reply, Ramos could gather that this beautiful woman thought nothing of using others in this way and he was shocked.

As quickly as he could, Ramos went back to his dwelling. He had suspected the truth almost from the time he�d seen the Egyptian hieroglyphics on the papyrus fragment Helen had brought, but he hadn't been able to accept it. In many ways he still couldn't, as his conclusions ran contrary to all of his scientific training and reasoning. Somehow he was in an Egyptian community in South America! The climate, flora, people's ethnicity, culture, dress and food all confirmed this, as did their obvious extensive use of slave labor. After taking stock, Ramos decided that even though this situation was completely impossible, he had to make the most of this inexplicable opportunity.

By this time the sun was high in the sky, and except for the slaves (who now Ramos that knew existed, he could see all around the town), everyone was inside partaking of a midday meal and rest. Ramos had gathered that the center of the town, where everyone went at this time of day, must contain some central meeting point, temple, or palace here, and he knew that he was one of the few solitary people during this rest period.

Without realizing it, the intense heat gradually overwhelmed the Aztec scientist and he dozed off, only waking when the sun was beginning to sink in the Western sky. Getting up from his sleeping palette he went to his door. For once no bodyguard was stationed outside. Deciding to make the most of this opportunity, he quickly left and headed towards the unknown.

Ramos worked his way down the familiar deserted paved streets, he passed the stone buildings bleached white in the tropical sun. As he began to reach unknown areas, he began to count turnings and, having an excellent memory, he knew that he would be able to rely on his count to get back safely. After walking this way for a few roads, he noticed small designs appearing on a few of the progressively grander buildings. His heartbeat thudded in his ears. They were undoubtedly hieroglyphics: many concerned with Ra. However inexplicable this situation was, events were taking a very interesting shape.

As he rounded the corner of a large two-story building, intent on deciphering a hieroglyphic panel that surrounded the building, Ramos drew in a deep breath in amazement. This building was probably some kind of repository of knowledge, as the mural appeared to tell the story of this group. Ramos' grasp of ancient hieroglyphs was excellent, and he had little trouble deciphering freshly hewn symbols, as opposed to the ancient worn samples he was used to.

It would appear that this isolated town did indeed belong to a lost tribe of Egyptians, a cult of Ra who had been expelled from their native land and who had traveled halfway across the world to uncharted lands. The journey had been great and many had died, but the group believed that Ra protected them and was guiding them to a land of the sun. They had apparently been guided here and dedicated their lives to worshipping the Egyptian sun god. They had exploited this section of the Amazon, much as their kindred had exploited the Nile, and had erected a huge temple on which they performed periodic sacrifices to Ra to ensure that the sun would return for the next season.

Ramos looked up from his intent study: no more buildings blocked his view. Instead a huge gold-covered pyramid structure rose up from the ground towards the heavens. It was almost blinding, even in the low sun, which was beginning to lengthen the shadows: the Temple of Ra! A huge crowd of all of the townspeople surrounded the structure, many on the ground apparently praying, but Ramos' attention soon passed beyond them to the top of the pyramid from which was suspended a huge stylized eye: the eye of Ra.

Suddenly a low, moaning began in the crowd, which gradually rose in pitch: a female figure gracefully processed through the crowd wearing a long white garment, flanked by six young girls in similar attire. The six walked to the base of the structure and stopped, but the solitary older figure began to walk slowly upwards: suddenly Ramos recognized the woman as Ampata and, in a shock of clarity, realized what was going to happen. Today was apparently one of the sacrifice days. The sun, which to these people must represent Ra, was disappearing from the sky for the day. These people were going to offer a sacrifice to Ra to ensure he would return.

Ampata was going to be the sacrifice!!!!

EPISODE THREE � DREAMS OF SICILIA

Part One

"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!"

Ramos' cry echoed around the temple: as the cry died on his lips the moaning stopped. Everyone turned to look at him, including Ampata, a look of profound shock and betrayal on her face. This exquisite moment was the supreme pinnacle of her existence. How dare someone rob her of her ultimate gift to Ra!

After a moment's paralysis, the crowd surged towards the Aztec scientist, rallied by the war cry of their indignant priests. Ramos knew he had to move, and move fast!

He took a few steps back and prepared to run, but after he had covered no more than a few meters, he lost his footing and fell face down in the dirt. The very earth beneath his feet was beginning to shake and an ominous rumbling was beginning to fill the air. All of a sudden, the angry yelling of the crowd was replaced by screams. Ramos turned his head and could seethe Ra worshipers heading back towards the temple, away from him. Their chase forgotten, the Egyptians fell prostrate once more at the foot of their temple shouting out fearful pleas to Ra to save them from the earthquake.

Ramos managed to get back onto his feet once more, disentangling himself from the sandy colored linen robe that he wore. He again took a few steps forward, but then hesitated and looked back at Ampata: a woman who he had grown immensely fond of in his time in this strange place.

The earthquake suddenly increased in intensity, the grumbling of the earth being replaced by a deafening roar and the terrifying crack of masonry. Suddenly, the building Ramos was standing by split from top to bottom, the ground thrusting upwards in the very center of the building, causing beautiful, ornate hieroglyph covered walls to crash into the dirt, lost to the world forever.

Changing his mind in a flash, Ramos turned and started to wade back through the terrified Egyptian crowd. Many were still lying prostrate, but more and more were getting to their feet and fleeing away from the temple to escape what could well be the cataclysmic destruction of their town. Ramos was pushed this way and that, finally arriving at the foot of he temple steps. During all this time Ampata was still standing, stiff and proud as the people ran amok beneath her.

Ramos quickly began to climb the huge steps, which had evidently been built for giants and not mere human beings. Suddenly he staggered as another tremor hit the village. He was only a few steps below Ampata now.

A delicate painted hand reached out to catch him and Ramos looked up into the face of the Egyptian noblewoman. Ramos could still see the sadness on her face, but also an obvious concern for him. She began to speak to him, quickly and urgently.

"Ramos, the most high god Ra has rejected me. He makes the earth shake and the buildings crash to stop me giving my life to him in the Ceremony of the Sun. I am not worthy of him."

"Come with me Ampata," pleaded Ramos. "Ra is not the true god. He only brings slavery and misery. We must leave quickly!"

Ampata shook her head. "No Ramos. I must stay with my people. Leave, my friend, and take my friendship... my love with you."

Before he could react, the proud Ampata had reached out to him once more and pushed him down the steps with more strength than he could have imagined her possessing. He fell back and tumbled down and down the steps, landing in an undignified heap at the bottom.

The exquisite palaces and buildings were breaking up rapidly now, and Ramos somehow knew that if he did not leave now he never would. Looking quickly up at the sun he let the symbol of Ra help him gauge his direction, and then he ran away from the temple, away from this strange life, and away from Ampata as quickly as he could.

Part Two

Ramos had just reached the opening to the slave grounds and fields when a huge, meaty hand fell like lead upon his shoulder. Ramos was whipped around to stare into the face of one of the largest men he had ever seen. A cold fear began to grow in his stomach. This was one of the cruel slavers he had seen the other day.

"You cannot leave," he said in a deep, booming voice. "No one leaves the city of Ra!"

Ramos hesitated and then, in a desperate move, used his smaller size to duck under the slavers arm, twisting so that the larger man would lose his hold. It worked, at least for a moment. A moment was all that Ramos needed, and he began to hare across the fields once more.

Finally out of breath, filthy and exhausted, Ramos arrived at the huge wall that surrounded the city. The walls were enormous and smooth. No foot holds to help him climb up.

Suddenly a fresh tremor hit. An ominous cracking filled the air and Ramos saw tiny hairline cracks beginning to form in the wall in front of him, which quickly turned into huge splits as he watched. He jumped back as pieces of stone began to rain down on him, and then he began to run back, weaving to avoid the larger debris

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Ramos saw a glimmer of green. He turned and saw that a huge section of wall had crumbled to dust. A way out!

Heading forward again, Ramos ducked his head down and ran towards the opening and freedom. A huge chunk of rock hit his arm. He cried out in pain but kept going. Another chunk grazed the back of his leg, but he knew he couldn't stop now. Finally, as he reached the gap in the wall he reached forward, groping wildly for a purchase on the crumbling rock, and began to pull himself through the hole. But, just as he was in the middle of the gap, with huge, thick rock walls on either side of him, another chunk of masonry fell down. It hit him square on the head, and Ramos knew no more.

Part Three

A warm ray of sunlight played across Ramos' face. He opened his eyes and looked up into the deep green canopy of the jungle overhead. He was lying on his back on top or some soft undergrowth that had the pungent smell of warm, moist earth. He tried to sit up and the world spun around him: his head was throbbing and as he reached up tenderly to his scalp, he found a huge bump. His hand came away warm and sticky with blood.

Ramos groaned and rolled over, struggling to get his bearings and getting caught up once more in his long robes. Over his right shoulder he could see a bundle of brown canvas. With a start he realized it was his back package. He was back to his campsite!

Putting a multitude of questions aside for the moment. Ramos struggled over to his campsite on all fours. He could see the climbing tools and Bartok Bendable Measuring Roll exactly where he had dropped them, who knew how long ago?

After scrabbling around in a daze he located the small first aid kit he had packed and began to bathe his wounds. Not only his head hurt, but his shoulder and leg were throbbing and bloody where the stones had hit him.

After a brief rest and a good drink of water, Ramos was feeling stronger and knew that he had to get some answers for the incredible experience he had gone through. He could not even begin to surmise a logical explanation for what had occurred, but his physical injuries and robe were proof enough that it had been real. He quickly changed into a spare shirt and pants and began to look around.

Within moments he spotted it. The large overgrown stone structure was just as large, just as ancient and just as mysterious as when he had first seen it. With his heart in his mouth, Ramos slowly made his way forward. The growth was still thick and there was no way to gauge the size of the structure, but slightly off to one side he spotted a gap, free of undergrowth that hadn't been there when he had first examined the structure. He crawled in and after just a sort distance he saw light ahead and emerged from the living tunnel of foliage into a huge broken down stone city that stank of age and death. He suddenly realized that the birds were silent. The myriad of almost subliminal sounds of the living forest were silent here.

Feeling like an intruder, Ramos began to search. Huge waves of deja vu nearly made him dizzy. Looking ahead he could see the hut where he had first woken up in, to his right were the caves where the slaves had lived and, now that much of the city was flattened, he could see what was left of the Temple of Ra dominating the horizon.

Without conscious intention Ramos found himself gravitating towards the monolith. Normally his scientific curiosity would have lead him to gather as many artefacts of this extraordinary place as he could, but today he touched nothing. There was but one thing he wanted to find.

Slowly making his way up the broken down steps of the temple, he picked his way over dangerous gaps and loose stones, finally arriving at a large opening which seemed to swallow up all the light around. He went in and began to crawl up the narrow passageway.

Finally, covered in thick layers of dust, he arrived in a tiny open space which must, he guessed, be right at the pinnacle of the building. There, in the center of the room, was a solitary object which he could just about make out by the feeble daylight that invaded this place through tiny chinks in the structure.

He crossed the room to look closer. There, in the center of the room, was a simple, elegant sarcophagus with the likeness of its inhabitant painted in the finest detail and with exquisite care. Ramos would never dream of opening this final resting place. One look at the lid confirmed who was inside anyway. A beautiful, haughty Egyptian face stared up at him with empty, painted eyes. It was Ampata.

Ramos sat down hard at the side of the coffin, trying to maintain as much scientific detachment as he could. The logical part of his mind dismissed the last few weeks (months?) as being impossible. He could never have traveled back to when this place had been inhabited, thousands of years ago, or interacted with the inhabitants of this extraordinary place and yet ...

Ramos looked at the sides of the sarcophagus and began to examine the hieroglyphics which, even after centuries of existence, were still bright and clear. They told the story of an Egyptian noblewoman of the City of Ra who died as a peace offering to the vengeful Ra who had made the earth of their city move and shake when a strange outsider had come. She had removed him from their dwellings and then gone through with the ceremony of sacrifice which the outsider had stopped, and had thus allowed the city to return to prosperity and wealth.

Deeply saddened, Ramos simply stood and left.

After making his way down from the temple. Ramos stood and looked at the deep blue sky. He pulled out the Bartok Long Distance Emergency Electrical Signal Transmitter from his pocket and pushed the button on the top of the device. As Bartok's device hissed and crackled with power as it sent an invisible signal far, far north. Ramos whispered "Come and get me Professor. I want to come home."

Epilogue

"Ramos, you're story is illogical, emotional and completely impossible,"said Bartok, sitting down on the chair in the laboratory.

As soon as they received the signal, Bartok and Pratt got down to Ramos as quickly as they could and had found him quietly camping in a clearing by, the majestic Amazon river. Physically he seemed a bit bruised and battered, but otherwise he was well.

Ramos had been reluctant to share any details of his apparent adventures with his two friends, but eventually they coaxed much of what had happened out of him. They had been incredulous, but upon seeing Ramos' robe, became intrigued and had decided to make a short reconnaissance flight over the area. Looking at the city from the air, all three marveled at the place, an archaeological treasure trove that had lain undiscovered for millennia.

Reluctantly, they had headed home after several days of preliminary examination, but Bartok was insistent that they share this stupendous find with Helen's archaeologist friends "for the good of all the world."

Despite the evidence of Ramos' injuries and robes however, nobody, not even his closest friends could accept his story of his being transported back in time to when the city had been inhabited. After Bartok's uncharacteristic outburst (for which the scientist quickly apologized) he conceded that something remarkable had certainly happened to his colleague.

"Remember," announced Pratt. "'There are more things in heaven and earth than we have even dreamed of,' to paraphrase the Bard."

Ramos gave him an exhausted smile as he sat across the other side of the room, sipping a cup of hot, strong tea. He shivered, still not fully re-acclimated to the frigid winter temperatures of Colorado after the heat of the Amazon.

"I don't know what happened down there," admitted Ramos, smiling wistfully."And I don't think I ever will."

"Perhaps," began Helen as she sat beside her beau, Professor Bartok,"you should not even try to understand it Ramos. You had a wonderful, exciting experience that gave you a unique insight into a lost culture. Whether you hallucinated much of it or not, your understanding and sympathy for these ancient people is going to enrich your life, and if you record it, that of many others."

"Yeah, Ramos," beamed Pratt. "Write a novel! I can get you a great deal. E.C. Allen isn't the greatest publisher in the world, but he loves a good story."

"Or," continued Helen, "you could write some articles for the Scientist, or even a reference work."

"I think," said Ramos with a small smile, "I shall stay here and continue to research with the Professor for now. I've neglected scientific research for too long. But, next summer, I think I will return to that lost city. So many questions are left unanswered, and there are so many stories to discover about that place."

"Miss Franklin, Mr. Pratt, once I have conducted more research on site I will give the whole experience a dramatized and a scientific treatment."

"Great, Ramos!" smiled Pratt. "But I must admit you've given me a great idea for my next novel. I think I'll call it Legend and the Temple of Doom!"

----Fin----

This story copyright 1999 Sarah O�Donoghue. As with everything else on the Steampunk Central Website no profit is derived from this work, and all contents are for entertainment and educational purposes only. See main index page for full disclaimer.

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