The Amulet of Power - Mike Resnick [52]
Omar and Gaafar both laughed.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“A man,” repeated Omar. “Hassam has seen to it that we now have eleven men on duty at the Arak. There is at least one on each floor, and two in the kitchen to make sure your food is not poisoned.”
“Are they all your cousins?”
“No,” he replied. “Some are Gaafar’s.”
“Now I know why you felt we’d be safe in the Arak,” said Lara.
“You are not safe anywhere,” Omar corrected her. “Remember Abdul—he is my cousin, too. You are merely in less danger here.”
She noticed Gaafar eyeing the fruit bowl and urged him to take one.
“They are for you,” he said.
“I’m not hungry.”
“But later you will be.”
“Then I’ll have room service bring more,” she replied. “I assume somebody’s cousin will deliver them, after someone else’s cousin makes sure they’re safe.”
“You are sure?”
“I’m sure. Now eat.” Then, suddenly, she hissed: “Stop!”
She pulled Gaafar’s knife from its sheath and plunged it into the fruit bowl. There was a crunching noise and she came away with a scorpion impaled on the blade.
She held the scorpion up and studied it. “This fellow is a Lemurus quinquestriatus—a Deathstalker scorpion. One sting and you’re dead inside of five minutes. He’s smaller than Pandinas imperator, the African emperor scorpion, but he’s much deadlier.”
“How do you know so much about scorpions?” asked Gaafar, clearly impressed.
“I spend a lot of time in the desert. If I didn’t know what was dangerous and what wasn’t, I couldn’t survive a week.” She returned Gaafar’s knife and turned to Omar. “I think you need to hire more cousins.”
“No,” answered Omar. “We need to eliminate at least one of the cousins we already have.” He turned to Gaafar. “You know what to do.”
Gaafar nodded and walked to the door.
“Whoever it is,” added Omar, “do not kill him so swiftly that he has no chance to name any confederates.”
Gaafar stepped out into the corridor and closed the door behind him.
“Why didn’t whoever placed the scorpion here simply walk up and shoot me?” mused Lara. “Why go to all this trouble? Not only did he take the chance that we’d spot it, but there was only a one-in-four chance that it would sting me instead of one of you.”
“He couldn’t walk up and kill all four of us before one of us killed him,” answered Omar. “This way he hides his identity. If the scorpion failed, as it did, he is still alive and able to make another attempt on your life.” He paused. “And never forget—killing you is important to the Mahdists, but it is not the ultimate goal. Their mission is to find the Amulet, so even if you are dead, the race for the Amulet continues, and it is to their advantage to have a spy in our midst.”
“Then we can expect more indirect attacks?”
“It depends exactly who is doing the attacking,” replied Omar. “If it is a known Mahdist, he has no reason to conceal his identity or work indirectly. If it is a traitor, he’ll do everything he can to conceal his identity. The Silent Ones, of course, may strike at any time.”
“That’s very reassuring,” said Lara.
“By the way, you can get out of the robes whenever you wish,” said Omar. “I had hoped we could keep your presence a secret for another day or two, but obviously our enemies already know you are here.”
“How do you suppose they found out so soon?” asked Lara, removing her robes. “We were just given this suite ten minutes ago.”
Omar shrugged. “Perhaps all the other rooms are full. Perhaps the traitor knew we would give an Englishwoman the Churchill Suite. Perhaps our enemies didn’t have to see through your disguise at all; perhaps they merely saw Gaafar and Hassam and myself with a slight stranger and drew the logical conclusion.”
“Should we change hotels?”
“I don’t think it would help,” said Omar. “They know you’re here; they’ll be watching us from now on. If we move to another hotel, they’ll know it instantly—and despite the scorpion, we can still provide better protection here. There is one traitor in our midst, but we have ten men working in the Arak who are willing to sacrifice themselves to