She sounded to Mariam like she was furious inside.

Sharif lowered the box onto the floor and opened it.

Inside, the golden man lay in repose.

Mariam stared. The old robot really was made new. Its metal shone. Its body was whole again, pristine.

The jackal howled wordlessly.

Saleh said, “What is that?”

“This is the other job,” Mukhtar said. “It’s just another relic.”

The boy stared in fascination at the golden man and the jackal pushed his head under the boy’s arm.

“I don’t . . . like it,” Anubis said.

“Does it work?” Saleh said.

“I don’t know,” Mukhtar said. He handed the statis bomb canister to Sharif, who now only looked even more furious.

“Where did you get that!” she demanded.

“This boy brought it in. He found it,” Mukhtar said.

“Found it! And it’s loaded?” Sharif said.

“It seems to be,” Mukhtar said. “Yes.”

“And you are all right with that? And you don’t think it’s weird?” Sharif said.

Mukhtar considered her questions.

“Weird?” he said. “Yes, of course it’s weird. But this is Neom. Am I all right with it? Well, it’s my job. Neither of us is getting paid unless this thing works.”

“Oh, I’m getting paid, Mukhtar,” Sharif said, a dangerous edge in her voice. “Whether it works or not, I get paid. And then I’m right out of this town before it blows to bits like New Punt did. She is behind it. Nasu’s back.”

“Yes,” a new voice said. Mariam turned, and she was not entirely surprised to see the robot had come in quietly while they were distracted. She was sure she’d left the door locked. But then the robot wasn’t the sort to let something as simple as a lock get in its way when it wanted to go somewhere.

“I believe you are right,” the robot said quietly. “She does have a way of announcing herself.”

“You’re the client?” Sharif said. “I heard of you.”

“And I, of you,” the robot said.

They stared at each other dubiously.

“I had nothing to do with New Punt,” Sharif said.

“You helped her make it.”

“Your precious golden idol!” Sharif exploded. “I did not! It has nothing to do with me what you—what you all—”

“You were her apprentice. Do not deny it. What do you think will happen now, when it’s alive again?”

“Nothing,” Sharif said. “I think it’s an old, useless relic. I always thought it was. Second-rate work, not like Sandoval’s Earthrise. And this was before my time!”

“Give it back its heart,” the robot said. “And I will give it back its soul.”

Sharif muttered under her breath, then shrugged.

“It’s just what Nasu wants,” she said.

“It’s what I want,” the robot said.