BRYCE GOT OFF IN THE Central Square of the medina.
On foot, he followed the bright blue light indicator on the iPhone through a maze of narrow, winding streets and steps. Then, it was still, suggesting that G was now stationary.
Bryce looked around. It was impossible to tell from the stack of houses, piled one on top of each other like a jigsaw puzzle, where G was exactly. But he couldn’t stick around like a sore thumb; he had to find cover.
He saw a boy of Rajo’s age. He smiled.
Mistaking Bryce for a native, the boy started yapping in Arabic. He shook his head.
The boy tried French; he shook his head.
‘English?’
Bryce nodded.
The boy with the friendly, dancing eyes smiled, closed the gap between them and whispered conspiratorially, ‘Can I help you?’
Bryce laughed.
‘Yes, you can.
