"Fart-a-xerxes? Seriously Aarmen," Lorenzo made a long face. Dunkin continued to wheeze out causing the ancient cart driver to look behind his back persistently to see what was wrong with him.

"Look, Artaxerxes was a Persian king, and I wasn't able to hunt for any Persian name at that moment." Aarmen sighed, "So I just renamed whatever name came to mind."

"Aarmen was really like, press F to pay respects." Dublin added, amused. We were trying to control our laugh because God knows if the cart driver would suspect us for having a jolly time amid an escape route.

"We can't use the existing names. That would damn alter the history. Don't you know this is a sensitive project where we have to keep incognito and not be a part of history in any way?" Aarmen said, fiddling with the AI book. He opened the thick diary, which was sent with us to write our travelogue.

"By the way, who is becoming who here?" Dunkin stabilised himself and leaned against the cart.

"Yeah, that's the major question. But... wait!" Realisation hit me at the blunder we had done.

"You have to change your identity at any cost Lorenzo," I deadpanned, causing everyone's eyes to fall on me including the driver's.

I have to get rid of this nag.

Wrapping my hands around one arm of Lorenzo, I lay my head against his shoulder and looked at him sheepishly.

Thankfully, he got the idea.

Cheryl did the same with his other arm and he leaned in to kiss her neck, then he kissed my cheek and narrowed his eyes to slits at the driver.

"Do we have some privacy!" his voice thundered in Persian causing the driver to yelp before permanently fixing his head to the front like his horses.

"Like I was saying," I continued in English, "Darius was very cruel to the ones who betrayed him. Remember? If we continue with this identity, what will we do if he finds and kills us?

"Don't forget, words travel like forest fires in here. You never know who is a spy hiding among them." I concluded.

"Wow Coretta. That's right." Lorenzo hummed. And soon, we all fell into our thoughts on how to resolve this identity crisis.

It was a necessity to get out of this jungle to start our work soon. Egypt seemed the most interesting stop to begin with.

I watched the laser pen, designed as a feather pen, move fluidly over the pages of Aarmen's AI book.

It was a specialised device-book where we had to write our accounts of the ancient times. Additionally, it had a box-like structure at the last page, invented by Dr Warton which used some coding to work. I had yet to figure it out.

From the inside-out, it looked as good as a rusty old book.

We slept through the night on the bumpy cart ride. The spring air made the approaching humid weather, bearable. Afternoon had arrived when the driver stopped to feed his horses. Noticing the sandy lanes and people roaming in linen attires, we knew we had reached our destination. After thanking the driver, we exited the forest and stepped into the Egyptian town.

I looked around, noticing two types of people. One Egyptian while the others looked... Greek, with the way they'd dressed. My body was bubbling with impending excitement. It was like dreaming in daylight.

"So, I hope everyone knows that now, we need to part ways." The leader, Aarmen exclaimed, and we all nodded, though a bit of nervousness was eating my insides.

It was necessary to go in different directions, as instructed by the department. That was the only way to write about varied themes and not be stuck at one.

"I will act as a disciple of Aristotle," Aarmen declared, calculating the years on his fingers, "He was born around 380 BCE so that's not a problem."

"What about you Donut in this identity crisis?" Lorenzo flicked Dunkin who had his eyes set on a faraway place.

He was staring at a pyramid. Looking equally amazed as me.

"You'd never know buddy, I have my plans," he grinned, "time to bid adieu. Don't worry about me 'kay, already got this bro," he kissed his wrist and went away to the area he had his eyes on.

I didn't understand why he was going to the bald linen-draped group of men standing near a pyramid.

"Good luck in finding your students or teacher," Lorenzo cheered.

"Time to pull on my scientific pants," Aarmen beamed before parting away.

It was lonely now, but we had to go in different paths. Moreover, the metal chip fixated below the artery of our wrists would always keep us connected to communicate.

"So you sticking with me, my lovely wives?" he taunted.

Cheryl was hopeful because her interest in men here had gone from hundred to zero.

"You don't have a kingdom here Lorenzo. Neither are you a king. No bragging rights here." I reasoned out. Cheryl frowned at my answer.

"There's little chance with bragging rights though," he took out the sword he had acquired on the way to the forest, "Fencing isn't just a passion, my ancestors were warriors sorta people so there's a tiny probability I can meet them," he smiled.

In the distance, a group of women were hooting.

Yeah, that was definitely odd.

Women hooting in the fourth century BCE.

"I'll go check if I can stick around with them," I said before looking back one last time, "and you two, depart in different ways alright," I ordered with narrowed eyes.

"Alexander must live in this century. He would be capturing parts of Egypt soon woohoo, and then I would…" Cheryl's excited voice faded as I modestly went to the group. The hot Egyptian winds blew across my face as I tried to block it with my linen.

"Booze! Lots and lots of booze ladies," The women jeered in Coptic Egyptian.

Did I hear wrong?

Although they were talking differently, I could only translate the word as booze or beer.

"We'll have a booze party!" another exclaimed.

"I will make karkade!" A woman wearing bright blue linen chipped in, "and not to forget our queen, ladies!"

I bit my lip, having an internal battle whether to approach them.