The Amulet of Power - Mike Resnick [59]
“The Al Bustan restaurant is close by,” suggested Hassam.
They made their way to the restaurant and were ushered to a small table, where the waiter took their orders.
“Where is Gaafar?” asked Lara. “Shouldn’t he have joined us by now?”
“Don’t worry about Gaafar,” replied Omar. “He is probably just questioning the Mahdist.”
“For two and a half hours?” said Mason.
“He asks very thorough questions,” said Omar with an amused smile.
The drinks came, and Lara gratefully accepted an iced tea from the waiter.
“I never did ask,” she said. “Did you come up with anything at the museum?”
“Not really,” he said. “You were in the Gordon exhibit. I just wandered the rest of the place, looking for . . . hell, for I don’t know what. For anything that might jog my mind into gear, give me a hint.”
“Gordon and the Mahdi were well matched,” said Lara. “They were born leaders, they were brilliant generals, and they each had the absolute knowledge that God was on their side. Under other circumstances, they might have been great friends, even brothers.”
“I doubt it,” said Mason. “I don’t think either of them could ever tolerate the fact that the other spoke directly to God.”
She chuckled in amusement. “You’re probably right.”
“Finish your drink,” said Omar. “If we hurry, you can get to the Ethnographical Museum and the library today, and tomorrow the search can begin.”
“You’re being a little too optimistic,” said Lara. “Right now the only thought I have is to search through the churches, and Kevin’s already done that. We probably won’t learn anything from the next museum, and whatever books and papers I find in the library may take days to go through before I know if they’re any use.”
“And if they are not?” asked Hassam.
“Then we’ll study more,” said Lara. “Omdurman isn’t very far across the Nile. If I can’t learn anything from where Gordon died, maybe I can learn something from where he defeated the Mahdi. After all, if he came into possession of the Amulet before the Battle of Omdurman, perhaps he never brought it back to Khartoum at all. Maybe it’s across the Nile somewhere.”
“Do you really think so?” asked Omar.
“I don’t know.”
“I know how much it means to you and how badly you want it,” said Mason to the two Sudanese men, “but never forget: If it was easy to find, someone would have found it already.”
Gaafar caught up to them on the street outside the restaurant.
“How did your morning go?” he asked as he joined them.
“About as expected,” replied Lara. “How did yours go?”
“We were aware that the Mahdists know you are in Khartoum,” said Gaafar. “But they also know why. I think it likely that they will leave you alone until you find the Amulet or lead them to it.”
“As we thought,” said Lara. “Maybe we can relax a little now.”
“Except for those tongueless killers you mentioned,” said Mason.
“I said, ‘a little,’ “ Lara said.
Just then, a bread truck careened crazily around the corner, jumped the curb, and bore down upon them.
21
Lara leaped to her left and reached for her pistols, but they were tangled in her robe. She saw Mason push Omar and Hassam out of the way, then almost elude the truck himself, but the passenger’s mirror, sticking out from the door, caught his shoulder and sent him hurtling into the middle of the street.
“Kevin!” she yelled. “Are you all right?”
“Don’t worry about me!” he grated. “Just watch yourself!”
Two women screamed as the truck remained on the sidewalk, plowing through carts and kiosks. Then it turned and headed back toward her.
Lara positioned herself in front of the concrete block wall of the building on the corner. There was an awning overhead, and as the truck raced toward her, she reached up to the awning’s crossbar and in an almost perfect gymnastic maneuver swung herself up to the top of it, avoiding the truck by less than a second.
This time the truck crunched into concrete and cement. The hood sprang open, and steam burst from the engine. The driver was momentarily