The Amulet of Power by Mike Resnick Read Free Book Online Page B

we’re not coming back.”
    “Then what?”
    “That ought to be enough time. You’ve already paid our way to the Sudan. Do you really think the captain is going to divert the
Amenhotep
simply to recover a broken-down lifeboat?”
    Mason uttered a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m an archaeologist. I’m all right in a fight, I suppose, but I’m not very good at doping out this hugger-mugger, cloak-and-dagger stuff.”
    “You were good enough at it to save my life,” she said. “That’s more than sufficient for me.”
    They came to Elephantine Island half an hour later, and pulled the boat onto the shore.
    “Thank goodness!” said Mason. “I’m going to be pulling slivers out of my hands for the next week.”
    “Maybe longer,” said Lara. “It all depends on whether we can find a speedboat.”
    He looked up and down the shore. “Where do you suppose we’re likely to find one?”
    She put her hands on her hips and peered into the darkness. “See that building about five hundred yards away, with the single light in the window?”
    “Yes.”
    “If there’s a light on, it means there’s someone there. Maybe a guard, maybe some other employee. It stands to reason if he’s got a boat he wouldn’t leave it too far away. Besides,” she added, “the island’s only a little more than a mile long. If we just walk in that direction along the shore, we’re bound to come to a boat sooner or later. Let’s just hope that it’s not a rowboat or a
felluca
.”
    They walked along the damp shore that was half sand and half mud, and after a quarter mile Mason felt Lara’s hand reach out and squeeze his arm.
    “There it is!” she whispered.
    He looked where she was pointing and saw a small boat, floating in the water and tethered to a palm tree.
    “I don’t see a mast or any oars!” he whispered excitedly. “I think we’ve hit paydirt!”
    They raced up to the boat and saw the moonlight glint off the outboard motor.
    “Let’s hope it has petrol,” said Mason.
    “Of course it does,” said Lara. “There isn’t any fueling station on the island. Whoever owns the boat plans to get home, so its tanks won’t be empty.”
    She began working on the rope, untying the knot that held the boat to the tree in a matter of seconds, then looked around for a long stick. She found one and stuck it into the sand right next to the boat.
    “What are you doing?” asked Mason.
    “Thanking our benefactor,” she whispered, pulling out some British pounds and impaling them on the spear. “Now climb in.”
    Mason waded out a few feet, then clambered into the boat and sat by the motor.
    “Get in yourself,” he said, “and I’ll start the engine.”
    “No!” she said quickly. “We’ll drift downstream and
then
start it. Why let whoever’s in the building know we’re stealing his boat?”
    “He’ll hear it when we go past the island.”
    “Boats go past the island all night,” said Lara. “We just don’t want him to hear us starting the motor right here.”
    “I’m sorry,” said Mason, looking embarrassed, “As I told you, I’m not used to thinking along these lines.”
    “Stop apologizing.”
    “I’m . . .” He caught himself. “Right.”
    They floated downstream in silence for almost a mile. Then she nodded, he started the engine, and soon they were speeding past the island. In another five minutes they reached Aswan.
    “We’ll reach the First Cataract any minute now,” said Lara, “and even if we get past it, we still have to negotiate those channels west of the Old Dam and behind the High Dam.”
    “I don’t like it,” said Mason. “There are too many people near the dams. We’ll have Mahdists looking for you, and if the guy back on the island didn’t want to sell, or thinks you didn’t leave enough cash, we’ll also have officials, and maybe even the military, looking for the boat.”
    “I agree. That means we’ll have to portage.”
    “We can’t carry