Chapter 6: The Tower of Babel
In the rented flat in Zamalek—the very same flat Simoon Gale always rented whenever he visited, since, obviously, his professional life revolved around anything to do with archaeological sites and Ancient Egypt—the air conditioning was panting away helplessly, blowing towards a table piled high with blank sheets, sketches, and Anemo’s open laptop. On the screen, dozens of tabs from Facebook groups like 'Tourists in Egypt' and 'The Zamalek Community' were already racking up comments on the desperate notice posted by the writer.
"Nothing!" came Anemo’s hopeless voice, his typing making a fast, clattering sound. "No one saw a white Angora cat last night on Shagaret El Dorr Street. Plenty of cats have been spotted, but not a single white one."
Simoon, who was no longer quite so calm, glanced over his son’s shoulder.
"Look at what this bloke is saying... Robin: 'I saw a pack of six or seven cats under the balcony...' That’s our balcony! Hang on a minute, this is interesting. A local kid, by the looks of him, was sitting cross-legged and looked like he was having a proper chat with the cats."
Daniel Frost—who had been mumbling gibberish under his breath the whole time while sitting on the sofa, scribbling frantically in his notepad and constantly showing his notes to his timid wife, Margo—suddenly jumped up and marched over to the two of them to see for himself.
"There’s something shifty going on there, I bet you!" he said. "Let’s get moving and put up some posters and ask around."
He grabbed the stack of posters from the cedarwood table and was just about to bolt out the door when the laptop started ringing.
"Aha! Mr Anemo, you’ve got a video call from... impossible..."
Of course, the screen showed that the one requesting a video chat was Remi, but we know that back in Ireland, a different team was eager to get in touch with them.
"Answer it then, man!" Trench snapped at Anemo. "Maybe we’re worrying over nothing and Miss Remi is perfectly fine, not trapped in a cat's body... like you two keep rambling on about!"
"It’s not Remi," Anemo said. "We know who it is... it’s my neighbour, Fleur, she’s looking after my tomcats," he added as he answered the call.
Fleur’s worried face, with her usual wild hair, popped up on the laptop screen immediately:
"Anemo, Professor Simoon, we’ve tried calling you a hundred times! Where is Miss Remi?"
Daniel Frost, who was pacing from one wall to the other with the heap of posters tucked under his arm, sighed heavily when he saw that the writer's face wasn't on the screen. Annoyed and completely baffled, he started talking over Anemo, creating a complete Babel of voices in the small room. It was as if the ancient curse of the Tower of Babel had suddenly hit the flat, mixing up English, Arabic, and internet slang until no one could understand a thing:
"Gentlemen, from a methodological point of view, what we are doing here is completely devoid of logic! In Clonee, on Ether Drive, I was called to investigate a missing person case. I collected a handbag, I checked emails where Remi Storm said she’d left in a hurry for research and was leaving the cat in your care... And now, in Cairo, you come and tell me it was all a massive blunder? That while I was filling out reports and looking for clues, Remi was actually purring away on the recliner chair in the body of a feline?"
Fleur recognised the voice instantly and, before she could help herself, blurted out through the speakers:
"Trench? Did I hear that right? Mr Anemo, what on earth is that man doing in Cairo? And more to the point, where is Miss Remi?"
Professor Simoon, the only man left who was halfway calm and rational, felt he had to step into the linguistic chaos.
"Hello Fleur. Er, yes, Inspector Frost is on holiday... here, and... we invited him over. Unfortunately, Remi missed the trans... er, the portal, and she’s still stuck in the cat's body."
In the background, the slam of the front door was heard, followed by the inspector's grumpy voice:
"You two do what you want, we’re off to make ourselves useful!"
The girl’s face showed a mix of surprise and sadness on the screen, but a sudden spark lit up in her hazel eyes.
"Professor, have you forgotten about the GPS collar? I reckon you can track her down with your phone... if not, we can help you from here, we’ve got Aeolus after all."
The Professor had completely forgotten that he had actually wanted to prevent a moment like this, and back home in Ireland, he had fastened exactly such a device around the white cat's neck.
"You’re brilliant, you clever, lovely girl! Sending you a big hug, but we really must run now!"
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