by G. S. Fields
The first boat reached the pier. I watched as the crew handed pieces of helojumper to the people on the pier. Suddenly a woman on the pier screamed and dropped whatever she was holding. A man came over and picked it up. I squinted and saw that it was an arm.
It was hard to make out everything that was unloaded. But occasionally, I saw things that made my skin crawl, things like an upper torso without arms, legs, or a head.
Viyaja ran to where they were unloading the boats. He started yelling at the men and women on the dock. A middle-aged woman took off running into the jungle. The others frantically created two smaller piles from the one big pile they had started…body parts in one, everything else in the other.
A few minutes later, the woman who had taken off had returned with a bloodstained sheet. She must have borrowed it from one of the corpses up by the hut. I was sure that the corpse didn’t mind, but it seemed to really bother Viyaja. He threw the sheet into the harbor, slapped the woman, and continued screaming. He was out of control.
I don’t know why I walked over there, but I did. Others from the beach followed me. When I got within a few feet of Viyaja, I said, “Settle down. They’re doing the best they can.”
Wild eyed and visibly shaking, he turned on me and yelled, “Don’t you tell me to settle down! They killed the leader of the Maldives!”
“What are you talking about? Nobody here killed anybody.”
“Yes they did, yes they did. They did it!” He pointed at the crowd that had gathered to watch the spectacle. “One of them must have planted a bomb on the helojumper. How else do you explain what happened?”
“Look, you’re upset and you’re not thinking straight.”
“Don’t you tell me I am not thinking straight!” he yelled. He looked out at the crowd and asked, “Which one of you did this? Tell me!”
Everyone began to back away. I wanted to slap him. I didn’t think that it would calm him down, but it’d make me feel better. Just as I was about to try, the high-pitched whine of twin electric engines filled the air.
Everyone turned and watched an MDF patrol boat made a high-speed entrance into the harbor. I recognized the hull number. It was the same one that I saw on the satellite photo that Jin took. The engines slammed into reverse and the boat skidded sideways up to the pier.
Uniformed men with their guns drawn jumped onto the dock. I turned and saw Michio and Mohamed in the crowd. I worked my way over.
“We’ve gotta get out of here,” I said as I reached them.
“What is the matter, Aron?” Mohamed asked.
I pointed at the boat without looking, “That’s the boat, the one in the satellite photo.”
Michio looked at me and said, “There is no place to go. They can chase down any boat here. Besides, if we flee it will look like we are guilty.”
I looked back over my shoulder and saw an MDF officer talking with Viyaja. Two other men stood behind him.
“Aron,” Michio said. “If they came here to harm us, wouldn’t they have done it by now?”
“I don’t know. I guess. But there are dozens of MDF patrol boats in the fleet. What are the odds that the one in that photo would arrive here first?”
“Pirates!” Mohamed said. “You think they are—”
“Shhh.” I put my hand up to Mohamed’s face. “Keep your voice down. I didn’t say they were pirates. Just give me a minute to think.”
Michio was probably right. If they were here to kill us, they would have opened up the heavy machine guns that were mounted on their boat. From this distance and with the aid of their auto targeting system, they could wipe out ninety-nine percent of the crowd in a few seconds. But I didn’t think they were here to kill everyone...just me.
I looked back and saw Viyaja pointing at me. Yup, I was right. The MDF officer nodded, called for a couple of his men, and they headed straight towards me. The two smaller guards held their rifles across their chests at the ready. The officer kept his pistol in his holster, but hand hovered next to it. He didn’t look like he needed a weapon.
The officer was as big as a sumo wrestler, only with less of a gut. At first I thought he might be Samoan, but his facial features weren’t right.
Hanging from his wide black belt was a short, curved sword with a silver ornamental handle. It was a Khukuri. I’d seen them in India. Son of a bitch…he was a Gurkha!
I’d heard way too many stories about Gurkha exploits, how they went berserk in battle and how they could kill twenty men at a time. I’m sure some of it was overblown hype, legends, myths. But standing there in front of him, I suddenly believed every story I’d ever heard. This wasn’t going to be a fair fight. He had a Khukuri. I had a data mat.
I stepped out in front of Michio and Mohamed and faced them. My legs shook. I tried to convince myself that it was the adrenaline pouring into my bloodstream. Of course, that wouldn’t explain why I needed to piss…fear would.
They stopped in front of me. He was even bigger than I had thought. He stared down at me through his large, dark eyes.
Holding his stare as best I could, I waited for him to pull out his sword and disembowel me. But he didn’t move. The sound of Viyaja’s voice broke the trance.
“I know that you had something to do with the helojumper. Save us all the trouble of a trial and confess.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” I said, looking over a Viyaja, who now stood next to the Gurkha. “I was right there with you and Ahmed from the time you landed to the time that thing took off. I never stepped near it. Do you think I made a bomb out of thin air and magically put it on the helojumper?”
If I could do that, I’d have a grenade in my hand right now.
“You may not have done it yourself,” Viyaja said, “Perhaps you had one of your friends here do it while you distracted me.”
I glared at him. Gurkha or no Gurkha, I was ready to slug that son of a bitch. I took a deep breath to calm down. “If you want to come after me for something I didn’t do…fine.” I took a step towards him and said, “But keep my friends out of this.”
The Gurkha stepped in front of Viyaja and pulled his sword out of his belt. I took two steps back.
“So what are you going to do, Viyaja?” I asked “Huh? Have your bodyguard execute me right here in front of all these people without a trial?”
I pointed at the sword and addressed the Gurkha whose expression was still a steely mask. “Well…what are you waiting for? Go ahead, tough guy.” I’d heard that every time a Gurkha draws his sword that he must feed it with blood. I figured it was just a fairytale to scare young children. I was wrong. Young children weren’t the only ones scared by the tale.
I looked around and raised my voice so everyone who had gathered around could hear me. “When word of this gets to the captain of the Mars ship, he might have second thoughts about this being the last civilized human settlement on the planet. He might have to make his own list.”
I saw the conflict in Viyaja’s face, but it was short lived. He smiled and said, “You will get your fair trial, but it will be after the ship departs.”
Then, addressing the Gurkha he said, “Escort Mr. Atherton and his friends to Lohifushi. Stay with him…as his guest.” His smile widened and he continued. “And be sure to inform the MDF patrols that Mr. Atherton is not to step foot on Male until after the last shuttle for the Mars ship leaves. Do you understand?”
The Gurkha nodded. Viyaja turned to leave but stopped, looked back at the Gurkha and said, “Feed your Khukuri.”
The Gurkha raised his sword, the morning sun reflected off of it and blinded me. I tensed in for the blow. But I wasn’t on the sword’s menu. The Gurkha held out his other hand and sliced the palm wide open. Blood oozed from the wound onto the sand, forming small red craters.
***
The MDF patrol boat followed us back. I couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t like we could go anywhere, not with the goddammed Gurkha onboard. Mohamed, Kamish, and I didn’t say a word on the way back.
The Gurkha just stared at us. I avoided looking at him by staring out at the ocean, and soon my thoughts drifted to Shannon.
I wondered if she were alive or dead. The pain of not knowing brought back memories of the days after the storm when I had wondered the same thing about Kelly and the girls. Part of me hoped that she had died, because the thought of what those bastards would do to her if they took her was almost too much to bear.
Just before twelve o’clock, we reached Lohifushi. As we entered the harbor, I turned in my seat and faced the Gurkha. His eyes were glued to me.
“So…what do I call you?”
Nothing. Just the stare.
“Come on. Viyaja said that you are my guest. What kind of host would I be if I didn’t know the name of my guests?”
“Captain Pun Narbahadur, Maldivian Defense Force,” he said.
“Alright if I call you Pun?"
No response. Just the stare.
“Pun it is,” I said. “So look, my place is a bit crowded. I’m sharing my hut with a kid. His name is William. So the first of the guest rules that we should talk about is that you don’t look at, talk to, or in any way upset him. His father died a few weeks back and a few days ago his mother passed away. So leave him out of this. Got it?”
Silence. But this time I saw an almost imperceptible nod. It could have been from the rocking of the boat, but I decided to take it as an agreement to the rule.
“Good. The second rule is that you have to figure out where you will stay. There are plenty of open huts. I’ll have Helen help you find one if you’d like.”
And we’re back to staring. Great.
We pulled up along the pier and for once, William wasn’t there to meet me. I felt relief. I didn’t want to explain what was going on, not out here.
As I stepped off the boat, I felt a few raindrops on my arm. I looked up; the partly cloudy skies that had covered us during most of the trip back had turned into black rainclouds.
By the time I reached my hut, the rain was coming down in sheets. Dripping wet, I pushed open the door and turned to face Pun.
“Sorry. As you can see, the inn is full. Give me a few minutes and I’ll send Helen a message so we can find you some place to dry off.
Water cascaded down his granite face. He looked at me and didn’t say a word.
I shrugged and closed the door.
Dropping my bag to the floor, I shook the water from my hair and clothes. If only I could shake off the feeling of doom about tonight’s raid this easily.
“Hey, quit it!” William said. “You’re getting water all over my screen.”
I looked over to find William in his familiar position, cross-legged on the bed and huddled over his data mat.
“So what? They’re waterproof.”
“It makes the screen look all weird.” He wiped his data mat against his t-shirt, examined it, and repeated the process until it seemed to meet his approval. “Who’s that?” he asked.
“He’s going to be with us for a few days.”
“Why?”
“It’s a long story. But in a nutshell, somebody thinks that I blew up a helojumper.”
William looked up, eyes wide. “Did you?”
“Come on,” I said. “You know me well enough to know I wouldn’t do something like that. I don’t know what happened to that helojumper.”
He seemed to relax a little.
“But until I can clear it up, our friend out there will hanging around.”
“That’s creepy.”
“Tell me about it,” I said.
I peeled off my wet clothes and dropped them onto the floor. Then I rummaged through the small dresser for something dry to wear. When I finished changing, I sent Helen a message asking her about which hut she would recommend for our guest. She sent back two recommendations that were nearby.
I opened the door and faced the back of a very wet Gurkha. He turned and looked at me.
“There are two huts nearby. One is just three huts down. I can take you there now if you want.”
“I will remain here,” he said.
“I can tell this rain isn’t going to let up for a while. Are you sure? I promise I won’t go anywhere without letting you know first.”
He just stared at me and then did an about face. I shrugged and closed the door. Looking at William, I said, “He must like the view from the front deck.”
William shrugged without looking up from his data mat.
I walked over and leaned over his shoulder to see what he was working on.
“Is that what it looks like?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. What do you think it looks like?”
“Like a decryption algorithm. More specifically, like the decryption algorithm that I told you about yesterday before I left. How the hell did you figure out how to code one?” I snatched the data mat from his hands.
“It’s not as hard as you made it sound.” He grabbed the data mat back . “It reminded me of an app that I saw my dad use. I it on his data mat and copied it onto mine. Then I started playing around with it.”
Shit, I forgot about that tool. When we were still in the early stages of designing the network, Rick had built a quick-n-dirty utility to decrypt test messages so we could see if they showed up on the distant end properly.
“But that tool only works if you have both sets of encryption keys,” I said.
He looked up at me as if I was an idiot, and to be honest, I was beginning to feel like one.
“What I meant was,” I said, “how did you figure out how to write a quantum decryption algorithm?”
“I didn’t,” he said. “See?” He pointed to a section in the code. “I stubbed out a place for it. You said you knew quantum programming. Besides, I had to leave something for you to do.” He smiled.
“Very funny.” I said, “And don’t be putting words into my mouth. I didn’t say that I knew quantum programming. I said that I took a class once. If you keep up with the wise cracks I'll let you figure that part out too.”
We ended up working on the code together while the storm raged outside. Struggling to remember quantum coding actually helped keep my mind off Shannon and the raid tonight. Twice, I got up to check on our guest. He hadn’t moved an inch.
By dinnertime, we had completed the first version of the decryption algorithm. Now the only problem was testing it. But to test it, we first had to establish a connection with the Chinese computer through the satellite. There was no way we’d be able to connect now, not with these storm clouds. We decided to take a break and headed over to the dining hut. Pun followed. I couldn’t wait to introduce him to Helen.
***
“Hey Helen, any food left?”
William and I entered the kitchen followed by a rain-soaked Gurkha. Helen turned and I watched her cheerful smile dissolve.
“Who’s this then?” She asked.
“This is Pun, he’s the guest that I mentioned in the message.”
She looked from me to Pun to me and then back to Pun again. Her hands rested on her hips and she said, “Bless me, you’re soaking wet…Pun is it?”
He didn’t respond. He just stood there.
“Well, I can see that Aron didn’t do a very good job of caring for his guest. Let’s get you some towels.” She went over to a cabinet, opened the door, and pulled out a stack of towels.
“I tried,” I said. “But he preferred hanging out in the rain.”
“Nonsense,” Helen said bringing the towels to the Gurkha. “Here, dry yourself off before you catch a cold.”
I looked at Pun. He stared at Helen and then at the towels. He seemed conflicted.
“Come on. Start drying off or I’ll dry you off myself. I can do it. I had six boys you know, all of them bigger than you.” She pushed the towels into his arms.
He took them, but didn’t move. So Helen grabbed the towel on the top of the stack and started to dry his face. “Honestly,” she said. “A grown man like you acting like a child.”
He reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. The stack of towels wobbled in his other hand. I looked around the kitchen. My eyes fell on the meat cleaver hanging on the side of the butcher’s block. I was just about to make a move for it when Pun said, “Thank you, miss. It is very kind of you, but I will dry myself.” He took the towel from her and started to mop his face.
I took several breaths to calm myself.
“That’s a good boy,” Helen said, giving me a sideways glance. “And I’ll go pour a nice cup of soup for each of you. That’s the trick for a rainy day…hot soup.”
We ate at the small table in the kitchen. I tried telling myself that he was just following orders, but it was hard...especially with him staring at me all the time.
Helen did most of the talking. We listened. Helen asked Pub a few questions. At first he didn’t talk, but he was smart enough to answer when she repeated her questions. Helen was a force of nature equal to or greater than the mountain of a man sitting next to her.
She got him to tell her where he was from. I was right. He was from Malaysia. He’d been a Gurkha since he was in his twenties. He was part of an elite team that protected a Sri Lankan government minister. He came to the Maldives with the group of refugees that had settled on Hanikada. The minister died and so Pun joined the MDF and took a vow to protect the inhabitants of the Maldives. That was pretty much all the information she got out of him.
When we finished our meal, we thanked Helen and walked back to the hut. Pun transformed back into his old quiet self. We passed one of the empty huts that Helen had recommended for Pun. I pointed it out, but he followed us back to my hut. William and I went inside. Pun took his post in front of the door.
***
I checked my watch. It read 8:00 p.m. Michio would be here soon. I had to figure out some way to ditch Pun. It would come to me. But until it did, William and I kept trying to connect to the Chinese satellite.
The storm had subsided, but the clouds were still pretty thick. Even if the clouds weren’t blocking our signal, there was no guarantee that we could connect to the computer. It was a long shot at best.