In the Land of Giants by Gabi Martinez

Author:Gabi Martinez
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: TRV003040, TRU000000, SPO029000, SOC011000, LCO015000
Publisher: Scribe Publications
Published: 2017-04-13T04:00:00+00:00

In Chitral, the temperature was higher still, and both Jordi and Fjord suffered a physical collapse. The Malamute got sick from the heat again. It was horrible, that powerlessness, enough to make you despair. Why were they so bad at tolerating high temperatures? He settled close to the dog in the coolest part of the house to recover his strength, studying the progress of his weakness, how vulnerable he was under these circumstances. How would he react if someone were to harass him during one of his collapses? Then he looked at Fjord. What a dog. Their bond had led to their falling ill together. He felt the dog was a part of him.

He heard voices at the front door, then Claire’s voice calling out to him.

‘Jordi! They’re asking for you.’

He inhaled a big mouthful of air, and got to his feet. He walked slowly over to the threshold, and recognised the young Pashtun lad waiting for him.

‘What do you want?’ he asked in the middle of the living room.

‘Major Zahïd wants to see you,’ he said.

‘Who’s Major Zahïd?’ asked Claire.

‘The head of the secret police,’ replied the boy.

‘The Gestapo,’ added Jordi, barely audible. And addressing the emissary: ‘Tell him I haven’t got time today — I’ll go some other day.’

If Zahïd thought his orders, threats, and pressure were going to get him anywhere, he had another think coming. Jordi turned his back on the kid and, aching and proud, retreated in search of some cool. He wanted to laugh at his haughtiness in such circumstances, but he no longer had the strength. Whatever did that uniformed vulture think? Did he believe Jordi was going to respond to his calls like a dog? I’m not afraid of you, Zahïd. Let that be absolutely clear. He acknowledged that when he was put under certain pressures it triggered a response that was really on the very fringes of what was reasonable, but the truth was that those seemingly mad impulses continued to be of use to him, marking out his space and getting himself respected, including by the authorities.

The young man left.

‘What could he want?’ asked Claire.

Jordi shrugged. There was no way to shake off that damn bloodhound who was intent on blaming him for who knew what. Zahïd had not given up tracking Jordi, despite that conciliatory gesture of giving him the tip-off for the barmanu.

They let a day go by. Jordi made the most of it to make the faintest recovery, and the following day he and his friend showed up at Zahïd’s office. Claire thought the policeman quite young, friendly, hospitable.

‘Weren’t you people interested in tracking down the barmanu?’ he asked from his seat behind the desk. ‘So why would you now be working on archaeological missions for which you don’t have a permit?’

When Claire gave some scientific justification for her interest, Zahïd sent them to the upper floor to talk to the police superintendent. Jordi climbed the stairs, cursing.

‘Don’t talk so much, it’ll tire you out more quickly,’ said Claire.

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