Author's introduction: My teaching colleagues often tease me about my love for, and my enthusiastic readiness to discuss my love of sci-fi and fantasy films and tv programmes. I particularly love Star Trek: The Next Generation. This is my version of a storyline that combines the plots of two Star Trek movies (the original ones! See if you can guess which two!)
As in all of my stories, all participants are at least eighteen years of age, and all sexual activity is consensual.
Please take time to score this story, and to comment on it. All authors appreciate their work being critiqued.
Tillbury Docks, England. Mid October, 1924
Howard Carter hurried his labourers down the gang plank, and stood before them on the dockside on a damp, grey Monday morning.
"Well men," he began, "enjoy your leave back in Blighty! You must come back here next Monday morning, when we'll be returning to the Valley of the Kings. We know where the tombs are now. We're through the outer walls and this short trip home is merely to re-stock and gather those tools that we will need to break through the inner walls. Then, gentlemen, the riches of Croesus will be ours to share!"
"Aye, believe that and you'll believe pigs can fly," muttered a voice from the back of the group. "All we are are bloody skivvies, labourers to do your hard work, and for what? Two shillings a day! Fuck that! I can get just as much down the pit back in my own village, and go home to my wife every night!"
Carter looked up, his face red with fury.
"I heard that, Idris Morgan!" he shouted. "I took you on because you are a skilled miner, but I don't need your insolent, socialist clap trap! Go home then! And take that idle Gypo who seems to be so fond of you with you! Don't bother coming back next Monday! Your services are no longer required!"
Carter and his private secretary stormed off, and the group of working class men mulled around for a while before breaking up into smaller groups and heading off in search of alcohol or sex. Both were in plentiful supply down in the docks.
Idris Morgan slapped the small brown skinned man beside him on the back, and grinned.
"Right then, Abdul," he said in his soft, lilting Welsh accent, "let's see about getting home, shall we? I feel a bit of a fool now. I've chucked a steady, regularly paid job all because I couldn't take to that smarmy bastard, Howard Carter. I said I could get a job back down the pit, but it's been a while since I did any mining. I hope Megan is still taking washing in. Otherwise we're going to be skint till payday!"
Abdul grinned, showing a set of strong, gleaming white teeth.
"No worries there, my friend," he said, taking a battered gunney sack off his shoulder. "Mr Carter never paid any of us native workers. When you asked me to come home with you, I took a couple of things in lieu of wages. Look."
He opened the bag and took out a couple of tightly wrapped bundles which were wrapped in sacking to prevent them from banging together. When the protective sacking was removed, Idris could see that they were two elaborately carved serving trays, and they were made from solid gold. They seemed to be able to be fitted together to make one large serving platter. Either that or they could be used separately, Idris reckoned.
"Arglwydd mawr!" he swore, reverting to his native tongue. "Bloody hell, Abdul, you're a bloody marvel! We can sell these and live like kings in the village. They must be worth a fortune!"
Arm in arm the two men made their way to the railway station. They had both been provided with travel passes by Howard Carter's organisation, so they were able to get on a train to south Wales easily and without having to buy a ticket. It was a long journey, but eventually they arrived in Idris's village, and they made their way to the row of tiny cottages that the mining company had built to house its workers.
Idris opened the front door.
"Megan?" he called, "I'm home, love. And I've brought a friend with me."
Megan appeared from the back kitchen, her sleeves rolled up and her hands and arms red raw from being constantly immersed in the wash tub.
"Idris!" she cried, falling into his arms. "You daft bugger! You never said you were coming home! I've got nothing ready. You'll have to make do with bread and dripping until I can rustle up some proper food for you both. Come on in, mun! The kettle's on the hob. I'll make us all a nice pot of tea."
"Oh, hello," she continued, having caught sight of Abdul behind her husband. "Who are you, then?"
"Megan this is Abdul," Idris said, pushing the young man forward. "He's been a good friend to me and, like me, he's fed up with being used by Carter and his crew as poorly paid labourers. We've chucked the job in Egypt, and we're both going to work down the pit again. I'll go and see Evans the Fixer as soon as we've had that cuppa you were talking about. Don't worry about anything to eat. We had a fry-up in the station cafe whilst we were waiting for the train home."
(Evans the Fixer was the link between the pit owners and the men employed to work there. It was his job to 'fix it' for men to do the dirty, dangerous work deep in the bowels of the earth.)
A few minutes later, Idris, Megan and Abdul were seated around the kitchen table, drinking tea. Megan was speaking.
"Evans the Fixer has been round here asking about you," she told Idris. "Men have been laid off in the pit because they're talking about forming a union. Evans said conditions underground are dreadful, and all the bosses are interested in is getting as much coal out as they can. Safety takes a back seat, according to Evans. The owners are desperate for experienced miners."
Idris considered what his wife was telling him. He grinned cheekily at her.
"If you're worried about me going back down the put," he told her, taking her rough skinned hand in his own, "there's no need. Abdul and I don't need to work, do we?"
He looked at his Egyptian friend, and Abdul shook his head.
"Idris looked after me on the dig," he told Megan, "so now it is my turn to look after him. And you, Megan, of course," he added.
He reached into his gunney sack and pulled out the two trays, which were once more wrapped in the protective sacking. He put them on the kitchen table and smiled at Megan.
"Open them," he suggested, and Megan picked up the nearest bundle.
"It's very heavy," she said, beginning to unwrap it. "What on earth is it?"
She screamed and dropped the tray onto the table. It gave a loud clang and Megan looked at Idris.
"It's gold!" she gasped. "Where the hell did you get it? Is it stolen? If so, I want it out of my house this instant! We may be poor, but we're not thieves! Get rid of it Idris, and if your friend Abdul has stolen it, get rid of him too! I'm not having a thief under my roof!"
She stood up and glared at the two astonished men. She seemed to have regained her composure.
"I mean it, Idris," she said calmly. "I'm not having stolen property in my house. You need to arrange for them to be sent back to Egypt. I don't care if you don't take them yourself, and yes, of course Abdul can lodge here whether you both get work down the pit or not. I've missed you whilst you've been away, and I'm glad that you're back. Now go and see Evans the Fixer and we'll talk about getting rid of those trays when you get back."
Idris knew when he was beaten. Wordlessly, he got to his feet, and Abdul followed suite.
"Come on, butty," Idris said quietly to his friend. "We'll go down to Evans's house and see if he's in. If the coal owners are so desperate for miners, we should have no trouble getting a job.
A couple of hours later, Idris and Abdul returned home. Megan was in the back garden, hanging wet washing on the clothes line. When she heard the front door slam, she came back into the house. She looked at Idris and smiled.
"Well?" she asked.
"All done," replied her husband. "Evans was delighted when I told him that I was looking for work, and when I introduced Abdul, he looked as if his Christmas and his birthday had both come at once!"
"We start tomorrow, at six o'clock," he continued, "so on the way back home, I called in the village Post Office. Evans the Stamps said that if I need to send something back to Egypt, it will have to be boxed up properly and left with him. He'll arrange for it to be sent down to Cardiff, and they'll take it up to London. It can go back to Egypt from there."
"How much will it cost?" asked Megan anxiously. "I know you've been sending money home, but we're a bit strapped for cash at the moment. And if..."
She looked at Abdul, and Idris stepped in to save his wife any embarrassment.
"Evans the Stamps said he'd let me know how much it'll cost to send them back," he said, taking his wife in his arms and cuddling her.
"The trays can stay here until I know how much it will cost to send them back. There's no need to worry about Abdul. We saw an advert on the notice board in the Post Office. Mrs. Evans, Miner's Row, is looking for a lodger. Evans the Stamps told us that her old man was killed down the pit a couple of months ago. She's not got any money coming in, so she's looking for a lodger to help out with the bills. We've been to see her, and Abdul can move in tonight."
"Aye, tragic it was," Megan said sadly, remembering the latest pit disaster in the area. "The roof fell in when Evans was working in the two foot seam. They managed to get his body out after a couple of days. The whole village turned out for the funeral."
Abdul spoke up for the first time since he and Idris had returned to the house.
"Megan, I'm sorry that I brought shame on your house," he said sincerely. "Yes, I stole those artifacts. But I worked like a dog for Carter, and he never paid me a penny. I thought I was only getting my own back, but I can see now that I was wrong. Whatever it costs to send them back home, I will pay from my mining wages. Idris is not at fault here. He shouldn't have to pay for my mistake. So don't worry. You won't have any expense over me. It seems that I can move into Mrs. Evans's house right away."
He grinned and looked at the astonished Megan.
