“Can you keep a secret?” he says.

“No! Not this secret!” I say.

He’s got his back against the secret door at the back of the tomb. On the other side, crafted from sand and bronze, animal bones and dung, is an automated man, jackal-headed, with accusing glass eyes.

“Keep your voice down,” he gets out through grinding teeth. The secret door thuds.

“It wants out!” I yell. “It knows we’re here. How do you figure we can keep this a secret? Why would we even do that!?”

“I, uh, sort of promised it I would.”

“The hell is the matter with you?”

“Four-thousand-year old machine man made a demand. I—”

“Then why does it want out?”

“Why do you think? He hears you and knows you’re untrustworthy. And, uh,” he releases his weight, steps forward. “I’m sorry, man.”

The door is swinging open.

“No. No, no. You’re siding with—”

“Call this a special case. I mean, I know you won’t kill me. But he —”

“Think he can outrun me?”

“Yes.”

“Then, Dave?”

“Yeah?”

“I am going to haunt the shit out of you.”