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Authors: Theophilus Axxe
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hotel after daylight had faded. Their giggles were drowned in the bedlam of the evening. Smells of people, food, garbage filled their noses; the crowd in the street was thicker, even noisier than during daytime.
Jenus's attention snapped to alert when he noticed, still far away, a man wearing an incongruous business suit next to their aircar. Mr. Suit appeared to be waiting for them.
"Jaya!" Jenus said, prodding her with an awkward elbow.
She responded with a silent look of surprise.
"Trouble's awaiting. Look." He pointed to the man next to their vehicle and dragged her into a corner.
"Of course, Jenus. The best way to ambush a fugitive is to park a watchman next to his chariot. They want to talk."
"How did they find us so fast?"
"Well, you made yourself mighty enemies."
"So we should talk."
"That was the pla'an," she chanted.
"You wait here. Come if I call you. They might not know that we're together."
"Oh, get off your high horse."
Jenus wished for an icy head wash and a magic brush to scrub his skull from the inside. Walking through the crowd toward the odd man, he stopped a few paces away from him.
"Hey," Jenus said and gestured.
The watchman looked perplexed: "Who are you? Did you bring this vehicle here?"
"Maybe. Did I get a parking ticket?"
"Wait a minute." The watchman pulled a phone from his coat, talked into it. "Are you alone?" he said.
"You can see for yourself."
"Your name is Jenus Dorato."
"My turn to ask questions: How did you know I was here? What do you want from me?"
"If you are Jenus Dorato, I have a message for you. Otherwise, stay out of this. Do you want the message?"
"It depends on the message–try me."
"We can do something to help you and your girlfriend." He pulled a paper from his pocket. He showed the note to Jenus, and then stuck it on the body of the aircar. "Be here in 24 hours"–he tapped the note–"and wait for the phone to ring. Don't ask questions. Don't follow me." The watchman turned and walked off into the crowd.
Jenus fought the urge to run after him; instead he snatched the note. It was a street address in Mexico City, with the words: "Be ready to relocate according to phone instructions."
He returned to Janet, showed her the paper. "Here in 24 hours, honeybunch. Do or die."
"So they did talk. Plans?"
"Be there."
"That simple?"
"I don't think so," Jenus said. "But we have time."
"Not much."
"No. Let's go to sleep. And call work, Jaya, tell them you won't be there for a few days. Tomorrow is Monday at home. Everybody seems to know where we are, so don't worry about traces."
"You want me in Mexico City?"
"I don't want you at home."
"And you plan to sleep now," Janet said, looking at him.
"Yes." He thought it over. "Or maybe not right away. Let's go." He winked. "We'll think about tomorrow when tomorrow gets here."
"If it weren't dangerous, this could be fun," she said to nobody in particular, her enunciation a bit slurred.
When they crossed the lobby of the hotel, the woman at the desk looked at them and turned away. Jenus supposed that someone, maybe the watchman, had asked her too many questions. In front of their room Jenus dialed the code, opened the door, felt for the light switch in the dark but never reached it: Powerful arms emerged from inside grabbed him, hit him. He yielded to surprise, pain and darkness. Perhaps Janet shrieked.
*
When he woke up, his hotel room was dim in the penumbra from the shaded window. He pulled himself to his feet and flexed. Nothing broken. His head was sore: searching revealed an aching bruise. After he reached for the switch, soft light flooded the room showing his searching hand stained with dry blood. He squinted. How long have I been out? he thought, looking around the room; his head throbbed.
"Jaya?" The room was silent.
"Jaya!" he called. He looked under the bed. In the closet,
Jenus's attention snapped to alert when he noticed, still far away, a man wearing an incongruous business suit next to their aircar. Mr. Suit appeared to be waiting for them.
"Jaya!" Jenus said, prodding her with an awkward elbow.
She responded with a silent look of surprise.
"Trouble's awaiting. Look." He pointed to the man next to their vehicle and dragged her into a corner.
"Of course, Jenus. The best way to ambush a fugitive is to park a watchman next to his chariot. They want to talk."
"How did they find us so fast?"
"Well, you made yourself mighty enemies."
"So we should talk."
"That was the pla'an," she chanted.
"You wait here. Come if I call you. They might not know that we're together."
"Oh, get off your high horse."
Jenus wished for an icy head wash and a magic brush to scrub his skull from the inside. Walking through the crowd toward the odd man, he stopped a few paces away from him.
"Hey," Jenus said and gestured.
The watchman looked perplexed: "Who are you? Did you bring this vehicle here?"
"Maybe. Did I get a parking ticket?"
"Wait a minute." The watchman pulled a phone from his coat, talked into it. "Are you alone?" he said.
"You can see for yourself."
"Your name is Jenus Dorato."
"My turn to ask questions: How did you know I was here? What do you want from me?"
"If you are Jenus Dorato, I have a message for you. Otherwise, stay out of this. Do you want the message?"
"It depends on the message–try me."
"We can do something to help you and your girlfriend." He pulled a paper from his pocket. He showed the note to Jenus, and then stuck it on the body of the aircar. "Be here in 24 hours"–he tapped the note–"and wait for the phone to ring. Don't ask questions. Don't follow me." The watchman turned and walked off into the crowd.
Jenus fought the urge to run after him; instead he snatched the note. It was a street address in Mexico City, with the words: "Be ready to relocate according to phone instructions."
He returned to Janet, showed her the paper. "Here in 24 hours, honeybunch. Do or die."
"So they did talk. Plans?"
"Be there."
"That simple?"
"I don't think so," Jenus said. "But we have time."
"Not much."
"No. Let's go to sleep. And call work, Jaya, tell them you won't be there for a few days. Tomorrow is Monday at home. Everybody seems to know where we are, so don't worry about traces."
"You want me in Mexico City?"
"I don't want you at home."
"And you plan to sleep now," Janet said, looking at him.
"Yes." He thought it over. "Or maybe not right away. Let's go." He winked. "We'll think about tomorrow when tomorrow gets here."
"If it weren't dangerous, this could be fun," she said to nobody in particular, her enunciation a bit slurred.
When they crossed the lobby of the hotel, the woman at the desk looked at them and turned away. Jenus supposed that someone, maybe the watchman, had asked her too many questions. In front of their room Jenus dialed the code, opened the door, felt for the light switch in the dark but never reached it: Powerful arms emerged from inside grabbed him, hit him. He yielded to surprise, pain and darkness. Perhaps Janet shrieked.
*
When he woke up, his hotel room was dim in the penumbra from the shaded window. He pulled himself to his feet and flexed. Nothing broken. His head was sore: searching revealed an aching bruise. After he reached for the switch, soft light flooded the room showing his searching hand stained with dry blood. He squinted. How long have I been out? he thought, looking around the room; his head throbbed.
"Jaya?" The room was silent.
"Jaya!" he called. He looked under the bed. In the closet,
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