The Amulet of Power by Mike Resnick Read Free Book Online

sure of that.”
    “The only thing I’m sure of is that we’re going over the side in seven hours,” said Lara. “We’ll play it by ear from that point on.”
    “You’re taking a lot of the decision-making upon yourself,” he said, trying not to sound petulant.
    “Why not?” she shot back. “I’m the one they’re after.”
    He was about to reply, then changed his mind. “What the hell,” he said. “When you’re right, you’re right.” He checked his watch. “It’s almost five o’clock. I’ll see you at midnight.”
    “Don’t oversleep.”
    “I’m not recovering from a concussion,” he said with a smile. “Don’t
you
oversleep.”
    “I’ve had enough sleep the past two days,” Lara assured him. “I won’t be sleeping at all.”
    “I’ll see you then,” he said, walking off to the cabin next to hers. He pushed the door open, entered, and closed the door behind him.
    Lara decided she was getting hungry again, and walked over to the small restaurant. There were six tables. Three of them were occupied by eight men, all wearing robes of varying types. They stared at her silently as she entered and approached the farthest table. There were half a dozen insects fighting over some crumbs that were left over from lunchtime, and she quickly chose a different table.
    A small man with a drooping black mustache emerged from the kitchen and crossed over to her.
    “What have you got?” she asked him.
    “We do not serve unescorted ladies,” said the man.
    An instant later he found himself staring down the barrels of her Black Demon .32s.
    “Allow me to introduce my escorts,” said Lara.
    “Those are fine escorts,” he said quickly as his knees started to shake.
    “I repeat: What’s on the menu?”
    “Lamb.”
    “What else?”
    “The rest of the lamb.”
    “That being the case, I’ll have lamb,” said Lara. “What’s to drink?”
    “Water.”
    “Bring me some water.”
    “Yes, ma’am,” said the waiter, turning to leave.
    “Just a moment,” she said sharply. He froze in his tracks, then turned to her. “I know better than to drink from the Nile if there’s any alternative. I want you to boil the water, then pour some in a cup and put a tea bag in it.”
    “We don’t have any tea bags.”
    She cocked the pistol. “You’ll find one.”
    He gulped. “I will find one.”
    “How very thoughtful of you,” she said, twirling the gun and replacing it in her holsters.
    The waiter scurried off to the kitchen, and Lara turned to look at the men who had been observing the little scene. Six of them glared at her with undisguised contempt. The two at the table nearest the door, a pair of big burly men, seemed amused. “How’s the lamb?” she asked.
    “The best that can be said for it is that it is dead,” replied one of the burly men.
    “Probably,” added the other.
    “It’s probably dead, or that’s probably the best that can be said for it?” she asked with a smile.
    “Yes,” he said, returning her smile.
    She laughed, and then the waiter returned with an unappetizing piece of meat on a dirty plate.
    “I’m glad to see you didn’t risk getting burned,” she said dryly.
    “I do not understand,” said the waiter.
    “I like my meat cooked,” she said. “Take it back and cook it properly.”
    “It
is
cooked.”
    “Are we going to go through all this again?” she said with a weary sigh. Suddenly he was facing her pistols again. “Take it back and cook it.”
    “I will take it back and cook it!” he shouted, practically running back into the kitchen.
    One of the bearded men uttered an offended curse, got up, and stalked out of the restaurant.
    “Pay no attention,” said the larger of the two men who had spoken to her. “He was finished anyway.”
    “Then I guess I won’t have to suffer from the guilt after all,” she replied. This time neither man laughed, and she assumed that their English and her wry humor didn’t quite mesh.
    The waiter returned and