by Tom Hunter
“Yeah, I wouldn’t put too much stock in visions that come while you’re asleep,” added Josh. “There’s another word for that: dreams. If anything, it makes it even more important that we all get some proper rest, and maybe even a bite to eat. I’ll listen to any visions you have after that.”
“Okay. You win. We’ll have a break.” Against his better judgment, Samuel indicated for the turnoff to the inn, pulling into the parking lot close to reception.
Twenty-Seven
“Marhabaan, Wilkommen, bienvenue, howdy!”
A robotic server manned the reception of the inn, as the six adventurers entered the foyer. It bore only a crude resemblance to a human, its metal torso mounted on a pole that ended in caterpillar tracks. Its ‘face’ contained no moving parts, a speaker positioned where its mouth should be and two red lights acting as eyes. It looked in poor repair, with frayed wires visible on the back of its head.
Josh tutted at how badly it had been maintained. The state of the robot didn’t bode well for the rooms on offer.
“Apologies for the confusion over which language to use,” it said, using a confused mix of American and British accents. “My sensors detect a peculiar mix of nationalities among you. Is American English the most appropriate form or address or would you prefer something different? Arabic, perhaps?”
“American English is fine,” Samuel reassured the server. “We were hoping to take two twin rooms and a single for the next few hours. And if you could put an extra cot in one of the twin rooms, that would be great.”
“I’m sorry, sir. We don’t have banana pancakes.” The robot’s head juddered a little as it recalibrated. “I’m sorry, sir. We only have one twin room available. We have plenty of singles though.”
“I guess I’m putting this on the credit card, then,” sighed Josh, taking out his wallet. “I’m having my own room for this, though.”
“Rock, paper scissors to see who has to share?” suggested Samuel.
“It’s okay. I don’t mind sharing with someone,” offered Akhenaton. “I’m used to sleeping in a dorm. I actually find it harder to get to sleep when I’m on my own.”
“I’ll share as well,” said Waleed.
Josh did a double take.
“What?” protested Waleed. “Can’t I do something nice without people side-eying me?”
“Great. That’s settled.” Samuel didn’t have the patience to sit through yet another argument, so he spoke before Josh could make one of his snarky comments.
“Excellent,” intoned the robot. “That’s one beef Wellington and four risottos.”
“Excuse me?” Josh frowned.
“I said, one twin room and four singles,” replied the robot. “I believe you are paying by pink flamingo?”
“Credit card, that’s right,” Josh nodded slowly, starting to realize that what the robot meant and what it said were two different things.
He held his card out so the robot could scan it, as the others headed back out to the car to collect their gear. Spotting movement in the staff area behind the reception, Josh called out to the person lurking there.
“You need to get your robot serviced,” he said. “It’s confusing its words. I better not find you’ve charged me for any oversized birds when we check out!”
“So sorry, sir,” replied the woman in broken English, looking up briefly from her tablet. “Robot help you.”
“Whatever,” huffed Josh, as the woman vanished into the depths of the staff area, frantically tapping away at the device in her hands.
“Here’s your bag, Josh.” Samuel burst through the doors to the reception, walking backwards to push them open with his body because his hands were full. “Just because you’re paying for the room doesn’t mean I’m going to take your things up for you.”
“Slacker,” huffed Josh, taking his gear from Samuel.
“I hope the water here’s hot,” remarked Basile, as they walked up the stairs to their rooms. “I’m desperate for a good shower.”
“Give me a bath any time,” Waleed told him. “You can’t really beat relaxing in the suds.”
“Ugh!” Basile shook his head. “Soaking in your own filth? I don’t think so!”
Samuel chuckled at the banter between his friends, as he unlocked the door to his room. Dumping his bags by the door he went and flopped onto the bed, too tired to even think about taking a shower. Closing his eyes, he moaned as he sank into the soft mattress.
This sure beat falling asleep in the driver’s seat of an automobile.
As he curled up to get comfortable, he heard the familiar click of a door opening. A smile spread across his face at the thought of a welcome visitor.
“Hey, Shafira,” he beamed. “I thought you said you were tired? Not that I’m complaining, mind. You know I’m always happy to enjoy your company. Did you need me for anything?”
The only reply was a strange rustling.
“Shafira?” Samuel sat up and opened his eyes.
His blood ran cold when he saw who his visitor really was. The robotic doorman threw itself at Samuel, clamping its hand pincers around his throat so he couldn’t yell for help.
Twenty-Eight
Stars flashed across Samuel’s vision as the robot tightened its chokehold on him. He scrabbled at its pincers, but there was no chance of forcing the machine to loosen its grip. Its red eyes drilled mercilessly into Samuel’s soul, the robot caring about nothing else but carrying out its mission. Clearly, someone had overridden its core programming.
Samuel kicked out at the robot’s torso, trying to prize it off, but he only succeeded in hurting his foot. The robot’s pincers tightened. Black dots formed at the edge of Samuel’s vision, and quickly worked their way inwards.
He reached out in desperation for the scepter poking out from his bag. Much as the archaeologist in him felt it sacrilegious to use such a precious artifact as a weapon, he didn’t have a choice.
Samuel stretched out, his fingertips tantalizingly brushing against the tip of the scepter. He tried again and again, desperately wriggling his body around to try and lengthen his reach, but the robot had him pinned.
There was nothing he could do.
Samuel’s heart leaped in hope when he heard the sound of his door opening.
“Shafira,” he croaked. “Get help!”
He turned his head to see if she’d heard him, but instead of his friend, he saw the woman he’d seen behind the reception desk. Now that he could get a better look at her, he realized she was Korean.
All the hope his heart had held dissolved into fear. They’d been too slow. The Bruard had found them, even in an out of the way inn like this one.
If only he’d listened to his vision. They should never have stopped here.
The Bruard agent smiled cruelly at the sight of Samuel writhing around in the robot’s grip, before looking around. Her grin widened when she saw the scepter in Samuel’s bag, and she strode towards it.
“This is it, Samuel,” he thought to himself. “Now or never. Do something, or the Bruard will have the scepter and you’ll be strangled to death.”
“No!” he grunted. “This is not how my story ends.”
A surge of adrenaline pumped through him as he grabbed the robot’s arm in both hands. With what was intended to be a large roar came out as more of a strangled squeak. With renewed strength, Samuel pried the machine’s pincer grip off his neck, and rolled to one side in the direction of the scepter to pull it with him. The robot crashed onto the bed.
Samuel wielded the scepter, and rammed the end into the robot’s chest, aiming directly for the control panel. It took a few blows, but at last, the cover fell off. Samuel randomly mashed at buttons, making the robot wildly flail around.
Seeing what he was trying to do, the woman threw herself at Samuel, but the out-of-control robot knocked her away.
“Do you wish for room service?” the machine intoned, righting itself and trundling back into the middle of the room.
&nb
sp; Samuel would have laughed if his throat hadn’t been so sore, but he had no time to relax. The Bruard agent swung her foot at him in a roundhouse kick that narrowly missed his head.
Tightening his grip on the scepter, Samuel dropped into his regular boxer’s stance, except for still gripping the scepter, muscle memory taking over to keep him safe, despite his injuries. In return, the woman took up a tae kwon do pose, lightly dancing on her feet as she assessed Samuel’s weaknesses.
Realizing he had to take the initiative in this fight, Samuel swung the scepter like a bat, forcing the woman to dodge backwards to avoid it.
“Meongcheonghan salam. Bruardleul mulli chil su-issneun huimang-i eobs-seubnida,” she snapped.
“I have no idea what you’re saying lady, but it doesn’t matter,” Samuel replied. “I’m not giving you the scepter!”
He raced at her, wildly windmilling the scepter to cut off any chance of the woman being able to hit him. The ferocity of his attack forced her to go backwards towards the window at the front of his room, staggering, and almost falling.
“Leave me and my friends alone!” yelled Samuel, ramming the scepter into her stomach with such force that she fell through the window. She hit the ground two stories below with a thud.
“All breakages must be paid for,” slurred the robot. “You will incur a charge for the cost of replacing the window.”
“Are you kidding me?” Samuel stared incredulously at the AI machine.
“I will now refer myself for servicing,” the robot intoned. “Any damages to this unit will also be charged to this room.”
It turned and rolled out into the corridor.
“Of course it will,” muttered Samuel. “Josh is going to kill me if I max his card.”
He looked out of the window to see the woman who’d attacked him staggering to her feet. She glanced up, their eyes meeting. She grinned despite her injuries, wiggling her fingers at him in a mocking wave, before running away.
“Dammit,” swore Samuel. It grated to know she had got away and was free to cause them even more trouble, but he couldn’t risk going after her, not with the scepter so exposed.
He bundled the artifact up in his clothes again and headed off to find Akhenaton.
Twenty-Nine
Samuel went past a couple of rooms before coming to a halt in front of the door to Akhenaton’s room. He pressed his ear up to it, hearing the sound of gentle snores.
Samuel grimaced, knowing how rare it was for Akhenaton to allow himself to completely relax into sleep. “Sorry, big guy,” he whispered before knocking to let Akhenaton know that he wanted to see him.
Immediately, the snoring stopped and a moment later, Akhenaton opened the door. He looked at Samuel’s face, down at the concealed scepter and back to Samuel’s expression again.
“What’s happened?” he asked.
“The Bruard have found us,” replied Samuel grimly.
“I wish I could say I’m surprised, but I’m not,” sighed Akhenaton.
“They programmed the robot receptionist to attack me,” Samuel told him, pulling aside the collar to his shirt to show the bruises that were already beginning to develop. “While I was fighting with it, a female Bruard agent slipped into my room, apparently to steal the scepter. Luckily, I managed to fight them both off, but she got away, and I have no idea where she’s gone. I didn’t want to give chase in case I exposed the scepter or myself to another attack, and I couldn’t leave you guys behind either. However, we can’t stay here any longer. She could be gathering reinforcements right now to make sure she doesn’t fail a second time. We need to be gone before she returns.”
“Then tonight we camp in the desert,” smiled Akhenaton. “It wouldn’t be the first time and while we might be open to an attack from all sides, it’ll be easier for us to hide, and at least no one can sneak up on us. Good thing we kept the desert survival gear instead of ditching it, even if Waleed is going to complain about having to carry it again.”
“Actually, I think we’re better off taking the car and driving into the desert,” Samuel told him. “In these winds, the sand will cover our tracks pretty quickly, and we can turn the heat on once we’ve parked to stay warm. If we lay all the seats flat and bed down together, we can share body warmth. One night’s not going to kill us. I think it’ll be safer that way and it gives us the best chance of catching a few more Zs before we get to Dougga. And hey-comfy seats in the car!”
“You’re spoiling us, Samuel,” joked Akhenaton. “But, think you’re probably right. Waleed would whine with every step and combine that with Basile’s moaning. I think I’d rather take my chances with the Bruard!”
“It’s settled then,” nodded Samuel. “You go get the others and we’ll meet in the parking lot in five minutes.”
Thirty
Valentina stood next to Khalil, the pair of them looking out across the ancient ruins in Dougga.
“I envy you working here,” sighed Valentina. “The views are truly spectacular. It really feels as though you’ve stepped back in time. I can close my eyes and imagine the Romans bustling about the place. I would find it hard to keep my focus on the job at hand with so many interesting things around.”
She waved her hand, indicating the remains of antiquated settlements sprawling before them. The outlines of temples to forgotten gods stood proudly alongside barracks and the skeletons of settlements. An old amphitheater, in surprisingly good condition, spoke of battles to the death in the name of pure entertainment.
History oozed out of every stone of the city.
“I must admit that one of the perks of working in Dougga is the ability to relax and unwind in these incredible surroundings,” Khalil agreed. “Even after spending practically my entire life here, I never get tired of it. There’s always some new discovery to uncover, a new insight into our past. It’s no wonder the Bruard target places like this.”
“Indeed,” nodded Valentina. “Thank goodness we got here in time to protect you. My men are assessing your security as we speak. By the time we’re done, you’ll be protected by the best the Tunisian military has to offer.”
“It is very reassuring to know they’ve send someone like you to increase the safety of the site,” Khalil told her. “With the Bruard’s history of selling relics on the black market, it was only a matter of time before Dougga became a target and I’m glad the government is taking this threat seriously. Fortunately for us, I have no doubt that the Bruard doesn’t stand a chance against your capable hands.”
“You flatter me.” Valentina laughed, lightly touching Khalil’s arm. “Something tells me you’re more than capable of protecting yourself. You work out, don’t you?”
“I do try and keep in shape,” Khalil confirmed. “We’re trained to fight. You never know when there’ll be a terrorist attack, Bruard or otherwise.”
Pin couldn’t prevent the look of disgust crossing his face as Valentina continued to flirt with Khalil.
“Typical woman,” he spat, as he pried off the panel concealing the controls to the communication system. “Can’t prevent herself from giving into her baser instincts. Once we-I mean, you-are in charge, such decadence will no longer be tolerated. There are far more dignified ways of getting what you want.”
“While I commend your dedication to our ideals and principles, you can’t argue with results,” Pae chided gently. “You might disagree with her methods, but there’s no denying they work. That man is putty in her hands. The infidel is paying less and less attention to what we’re doing, so let’s take full advantage of his distraction. Hurry up and get the work done. Valentina’s charms might be ample, but eventually he’ll tire of them.”
Pin referred to the circuit diagram that had been prepared for them to remind himself of what he needed to do. Poking around in the wires in front of him, he soon located the white wire he needed.
“Pass me the device,” he ordered Pae.
Pae frowned at Pin’s rudeness, but he let the insolence pass-for no
w-not wanting to break their cover as ordinary soldiers. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small box containing the tiny device that would spoof signals coming to and from the site. He passed it to Pin, who opened it up. Using a tiny pair of tweezers, he picked up the microchip, clipping it to the back of the wire. It would take someone with eagle eyes to spot it, but Pin hid the wire behind a bundle of others to make it even harder to detect. It was highly unlikely anyone would be able to find it, even if they knew it was there.
“There.” He nodded in satisfaction as he replaced the cover to the control panel, screwing it back in place. “Now we have complete control over any correspondence coming through Dougga. If they receive any messages about McCarthy and company, we’ll know about it straight away. Everything is in place for the final stage of our plan.”
He tightening the last screw in place, and scrambled to his feet.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, ma’am,” he said, deliberately talking just as Valentina was about to reveal the punchline to a witty, but completely false, anecdote about her time in military maneuvers in Jerusalem. “But I thought you might like to know we’ve finished the assessment. We’ve had to make a few minor adjustments to the setup to tighten the site’s defenses, but it should be completely secure now.”
Khalil frowned. “That was quick,” he remarked. “I didn’t realize you were so efficient. Had I known, I would have paid more attention to what you were doing, so I could learn a few tricks for future reference. Would it be possible to review the changes you’ve made?”
“Unfortunately, that won’t be possible.” Valentina shook her head apologetically. “We can’t have you stealing military secrets, can we?” She tapped Khalil lightly on the nose, making him laugh. “Besides, we’re all working to push those bastard Bruard agents out of our land, are we not?”