Alex Mitchell - The 13th Tablet

‘Mina?’ Jack said.

‘Yes?’ she answered, dreamily.

‘How sure are we that it will happen?’

‘Oh,’ she said, a little disappointed that Jack had not opted for a more romantic sentiment. ‘We can’t know for sure, but Daniel’s calculations have confirmed that past disasters were predicted by the authors of the tablet.’

‘So what are we really talking about?’ asked Jack, matter-of-factly.

‘I hope nothing will happen, but if something does it will probably be an earthquake.’

‘Can’t you give me a more educated guess?’

‘OK. The tablets describe events to come, as well as how to forecast them. Unfortunately the Mosul tablet was only partly preserved and the Jerusalem one… basically we don’t know how they forecasted the events, but my personal feeling…’ she broke off.

‘Yes?’

‘… The events described are incremental in magnitude and destructive power.’

‘You mean they get worse over time?’

‘Yes, they make me think of warnings.’

‘Of what?’

‘Of worse things to come.’

‘And I thought you weren’t religious.’

‘I don’t feel like joking, Jack. What time is it?’

‘Almost time to get back to the airport to catch our flight. We’re getting off at the next pier.’

Jack’s mind drifted back to his time in Iraq. He wondered how the qanat work had progressed, if the villagers had followed his notes conscientiously and been successful in channelling the water. Since the fateful day he had met Mina, he had pursued an ancient tablet in four countries and come up against Wheatley and Shobai, possibly the deadliest foes he had ever faced. ‘Some month,’ he thought to himself.

Phuket airport.

Mina watched over their luggage as Jack bought two Thai SIM cards for their mobile phones. She looked around her, welcoming the warm and windy weather. ‘A good thing Jack didn’t send his mother on a skiing holiday,’ she thought. Jack returned half an hour later.

‘Let’s get to Patong beach as soon as possible. We should make it for Christmas dinner as planned.’

As they walked out of the small airport to the taxi rank Jack noticed two men who seemed to be scrutinising the arrivals. The men’s faces lit up when an old woman appeared at the gate. They were evidently greeting their mother. ‘I’m becoming totally paranoid,’ Jack sighed inwardly.

‘Here’s a tuktuk,’ Jack said, hailing one of the strange looking motorised versions of traditional rickshaws. Their young driver greeted them, with the ubiquitous wai gesture, bringing both hands to his chest and bending his head slightly towards his hands. He then picked up their bags and stowed them behind their seats. He jump-started his engine and with a loud popping noise, the tuktuk was on the road.

‘They’re funny things aren’t they?’ Jack said, ‘Tuktuks aren’t as manoeuvrable as motorbikes, but they’re really useful in areas where traffic congestion is a problem, like Bangkok. Here it’s a bit for show, as it’s a holiday destination and in fact there’s hardly any traffic.’

Mina rolled her eyes. ‘Boys and their toys,’ she thought to herself.

‘It may be tacky, but it’s a lot of fun to feel the wind in your hair!’ she retorted.

‘I thought you’d enjoy it. Still, the journey will take roughly half an hour, just enough time to be covered from head to toe with dust. You’ll definitely want to freshen up at the hotel after it.’

‘I’m sure you will too, Jack. You seem to forget I don’t spend all my time in libraries. You don’t want to know what I look like after a three week excavation campaign.’

He smiled at her. The sun was radiant and the sea breeze cool and pleasant. He loved seeing Mina’s evident excitement at being in Thailand. This was her first trip to South East Asia and Jack promised himself he would return with her another time, just the two of them. He knew some remote and majestic islands on the other side of the peninsula that would be perfect. He could not tear his eyes away from her striking profile, as she gazed at the landscape unfolding on either side of the open-air vehicle.

Twenty minutes into their trip and the driver turned around briefly. ‘Here Hat Surin,’ he yelled over the buzz of the tuktuk, pointing to a beach on his right, ‘then we go Laem Sing, Hat Kamala and Hat Patong.’

Mina did not register any of the strange sounding names the driver had called out. She was just enjoying the ride.

Patong beach. Hotel

Jack spoke with the hotel manager who confirmed that his relatives had received his message, but that they were off on a boat tour. They would be back in an hour. The contrast between the hotel’s lobby and Patong beach’s rowdy atmosphere was stark. Mina was overwhelmed by a tourist industry brought to its paroxysm. It was as bad as the infamous Pat-Pong quarter in Bangkok: noisy mopeds, techno and pop music blaring out from all sides, billboards sprouting in every language under the sky — advertising everything from go-go girls to smoothies and Singha beer. She was glad to have escaped to the relative peace of this hotel. After a while a porter came by to pick up their luggage. She followed him out of the hotel to a row of discrete bungalows. She savoured the warmth of the air on her skin, and was looking forward to swimming in the sea, only fifty metres away from the bungalows, which were built right on the beach. They reached their bungalow, hidden from prying eyes by wild tufts of bamboo and large, overhanging palm trees. It had a large porch and a beautiful view of the seafront. As soon as the porter left the room, she undressed and walked into the bathroom. It was a large room with stone flooring and tiled walls. With great relish, she lathered her entire body with soap and stood still under the powerful flow of the shower. Then, she sat on a flat rock, still under the shower and felt so relaxed she almost fell asleep. Jack entered the bathroom, got undressed and filled two wooden buckets with warm water. He turned off Mina’s shower and told her to remain seated on the rock and close her eyes. He then poured the warm water from the buckets gently over her. He refilled the buckets and repeated this a few times.

‘Mmm. That felt so good.’

‘You’re welcome,’ he said, kissing her shoulder. ‘I’ll take a quick shower and then we can meet up with my mum and sister in the reception area.’

‘Didn’t I say you were worrying for nothing?’

Mina felt her hands shake ever so slightly when she saw Jack’s mother and sister waiting for them at the reception. She adjusted her dress again. Was it too short, too long?

‘Hi mum, Jen,’ said Jack giving them both a hug. ‘Jen, my Mum, Maureen, Mina Osman, my girlfriend.’

Jen was a plain girl in her late twenties, with mid-length straw blond hair. She was very tall and her body moved slightly awkwardly as she approached Mina. Jack’s mother, in her mid-sixties was a plump brunette with piercing blue eyes. She stood there, a little hesitantly and Mina saw straight away that they had thought Jack was coming alone. Mina could not decide whether she wanted to kiss Jack for confirming that they were a couple or punch him on the jaw for not telling his mother that she’d be coming. In the end she did neither and shook hands with Jen and Maureen.

‘I’m delighted to meet you both,’ she said.

‘Same here,’ answered Jack’s smiling mother and pulled Mina into a big hug.

Jen gave Mina a hug as well and before Jack could understand what was going on, everyone was hugging each other.

‘I’m so happy to meet you,’ Jack’s mother kept saying to Mina.

Jack couldn’t take much more of the hugging, so he disengaged himself from his tearful but smiling sister, ‘Right. Let’s go for dinner.’