ALFONSO'S EYES SLAMMED OPEN. For the first few seconds, he had no idea where he was. He lay on a narrow bed, in a small concrete room with a rickety ceiling fan wobbling overhead. This place seems familiar, thought Alfonso. Then it came back to him. He was back in his hotel room, at the Three Sphinxes Hotel.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Someone was knocking on the door—loudly.
Alfonso looked around quickly and, to his great relief, he saw that all of his possessions were in plain sight: his backpack, money, books, passport, and blue sphere. There was also a small rosewood box and, as soon as Alfonso saw this, recent events came back to him: the trip to the cliffs, the Sleeping Sphinx, the dive into the sea, the cave, and then the awful battle with the taxi driver.
But how had he gotten back to his hotel room?
The last thing he recalled was climbing up the bronze handrails leading up the side of the crypt. Everything after this was a blank, which meant, of course, that Alfonso must have dozed off and his sleeping-self had taken over.
Alfonso glanced at his watch and, judging by the time and date, he quickly calculated that it had been almost thirty-six hours since he had left the hotel.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The door to the hallway reverberated under heavy knocking.
"One second!" Alfonso yelled.
"Mr. Perplexon, are you in there?" came a woman's voice from the other side of the door. Her voice had a strange, bird-like sound to it.
Alfonso threw on his clothes and crammed all of his possessions into his backpack. Everything except his sphere. He held this in his right hand, ready for whatever came through the door.
"I have an urgent message for Master Alfonso Perplexon," said the woman. "It is from a friend."
Alfonso walked across the room to the door. He put his hand on the doorknob and hesitated.
"Who are you?" he shouted.
"I am the servant of a friend of yours," said the voice. "Please, we must converse immediately."
"I don't have any friends in Alexandria," said Alfonso.
"This friend is not from Alexandria," replied the voice. "His home is in Barsh-yin-Binder."
This was most unexpected. Barsh-yin-Binder was a city on the edge of the Urals, a dreary place inhabited by Dragoonya, mercenaries, and smugglers. Alfonso and his uncle Hill had passed through there on their way to Somnos.
"Barsh-yin-Binder?" inquired Alfonso.
"That's correct," said the voice. "He has come at the request of Judy, your mother."
Alfonso opened the door. Standing in the doorway was a tall woman with long gray hair, dressed in khaki pants, a tight black shirt, and a snappy Panama hat. She appeared to be middle-aged, but it was hard to know. Her thin, delicate face was deeply tanned. She had a rather long nose and a pointy chin. Alfonso was happy to see that the woman's eyes were not white, but shone a light emerald green.
"Allow me to introduce myself," she said with a slight bow. "My name is Snej Duhamel. I am a pilot by vocation, based out of Persia normally, but in recent time I have been employed by a man who travels quite frequently. You are hereby requested to accompany me to an airship on the outskirts of this town."
"Are you kidding?" Alfonso asked.
"I do not jest," replied Snej.
"But I have to call my mom," Alfonso said.
"Later," replied Snej. "The street is buzzing with the news of an American boy who has killed a local taxi driver and stolen his car. The man's body was found in the desert near the Three Sphinxes and his taxi was found just blocks from here."
"Killed?" replied Alfonso. "Are you sure he's..."
"Dead," finished Snej. She nodded.
I have killed a man. This thought lodged into Alfonso's brain like a meteor that had just made impact.
"Come," said Snej. "We have no time to waste."
Alfonso grabbed his backpack and quickly followed Snej. Outside, a white Rolls-Royce idled at the curb. It was in pristine condition, without a scratch or even a trace of mud. It had attracted a crowd of amazed Alexandrians, including the innkeeper. At the first sight of Alfonso, the innkeeper pointed his finger accusingly and shouted loudly in Arabic: "That's the American boy! He must have snuck in!" There were several angry shouts from the crowd.
Snej shoved Alfonso into the back seat of the Rolls-Royce. She then reached into the driver's seat, pulled out a rifle, and pointed it directly at the innkeeper. "Sukat!" she growled. The innkeeper immediately went quiet. Snej slid into the driver's seat and closed the door. Fists pounded on the windows, but the glass was bulletproof, and hence far too sturdy to buckle under such pressure. Snej pressed her foot on the accelerator and the Rolls-Royce's motor uttered a deep-throated roar. The crowd shrank back. Snej took advantage of their fear, threw the car into gear, and sped away.
After several hairpin turns, the Rolls-Royce left the old city and entered the desert. About thirty minutes later, they arrived at the top of a narrow canyon. Snej threw the Rolls-Royce into its lowest gear and crept down a steep, makeshift road. At the bottom of the canyon they came upon a small airstrip several hundred feet in length. A twin turboprop plane sat on the edge of the runway nearest them. Snej explained that it was a de Havilland Twin Otter, known for its ability to operate in the polar winter as well as take off and land on virtually any surface. The Twin Otter had no visible markings and was as white as the Rolls-Royce. One of its large propellers turned lazily in the wind.
"If you please, kind sir, my employer waits for you aboard," she said. "After securing the Rolls-Royce under a camouflage tarp, I will join you with all due speed." She pointed at the airplane's stairs. The banisters gleamed with inlaid wood, and the stairs were covered with a thick carpet. One thing was certain. Whoever waited for Alfonso aboard the Twin Otter was wealthy beyond any reasonable measure.
Alfonso grabbed his backpack and walked slowly toward the plane. With some reluctance, he began climbing the stairs. Halfway up he became aware of someone at the doorway of the plane. Alfonso looked up and at first was only aware of the person's massive size.
He was a giant, muscular fellow dressed in a white suit and a sharp red tie. In one hand he held a cane emblazoned with rubies. His long black hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. He wore dark glasses. After a moment of shock, Alfonso recognized him.
Bilblox.