Read Online In the Palace of the Khans by Peter Dickinson - Free Book Online

there, half-lounging in the strip of shade below the wall while he chatted to a young woman, presumably one of the palace servants. He had a piggy, pleased-with-himself face. When Nigel offered him his pass he just glanced sidelong at him and waved it aside and opened the door, making no attempt to search him, and gestured to him to go on in. He grunted something that probably meant “Wait” and returned to the girl.
    Nigel went in and waited. He’d forgotten to have a pee before he left the embassy and was beginning to notice the fact. Several minutes passed. He was already late. The need to pee was becoming urgent. The hell with it, he thought, and keyed in the code. The lift doors opened, and closed behind him as soon as he pressed the 2 button.
    The lift went down, not up, and stopped with a jolt. The lights went out. Close by outside an alarm bell clanged alive. His heart hammered. It’s all right, he himself kept telling himself. Just a lift malfunction. They’ll come and get me out.
    After a while he settled down into a corner, stuffed his thumbs against he his ears to damp down the headachy clamour of the bell and played through his game against the President in his head to fight the urge to pee.
    The bell stopped as suddenly as it had begun. He took his thumbs out of his ears and rose. He could hear a man’s voice, close outside, giving orders by the sound of it. The doors sighed open and he was bathed in glaring light.
    He staggered back, blinded. Rough hands grabbed him, hustled him out and flung him on the floor. A man shouted an order, urgent.
    â€œI’m English!” he croaked, just managing not to wet himself. “I can’t speak Dirzhani. No Dirzhani.”
    Silence. Hesitation. The glare vanished, replaced by ordinary electric light. Blinking, he made out soldiers standing above him, staring down. Two guns were pointing at him. He began to reach for the pass in his pocket, but was instantly grabbed again, and hoicked to his feet. One of the men felt in the pocket, found the pass, looked at it and handed it to the man who seemed to be in command.
    He too looked at it, unclipped a handset from his belt and tapped in a number. When it was answered he spoke for a while, answered a question, waited, spoke again, and passed the handset to Nigel.
    â€œMr. Rizhouell?”
    â€œMr. Dikhtar? Yes, me. I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t realise …”
    â€œPlease tell me what happened. Your driver reports that he left you at the door and passed you over to the guard on duty there.”
    â€œThat’s right …”
    Nigel started to explain in detail.
    â€œYou knew the code for the lift door.”
    â€œThe guard let me see him tapping it in yesterday. 9876. It was so simple I couldn’t help noticing.”
    â€œUnderstood. Please pass me back to the guard sergeant.”
    The guard sergeant listened to the handset briefly, switched it off and clipped it back on his belt. He gestured to Nigel to go into the lift, then started giving orders to the other men.
    Nigel waited shuddering with released tension and desperate by now for a pee. His headache got worse. To distract himself he tried to work out what must have happened. The simple security code was a trap. There must have been something the guard did yesterday after the door had closed. Yes, that buzzer, signalling that everything was in order. Without that the lift would have gone down, like today, trapping whoever was inside it safely in the basement.
    So it looked as if the guard was going to be in serious trouble, and the poor servant-girl too, probably. It really didn’t seem fair, especially on her. But if there’d been two assassination attempts in the last eighteen months …
    At last the guard sergeant came in, closed the door, took the lift up a floor, opened the door, pressed the 2 button, and nipped out before the door closed. The buzzer sounded overhead and the lift rose,