Decrypted (Encrypted #2)

by Lindsay Buroker

  Tikaya swallowed. She’d had a feeling some ancestor of hers would come into the story eventually.

  “We can’t know for certain what conversations went on all those years ago,” Tosii said, “but a woman, Eolila Mokkos, kept a journal that has survived.”

  “Mokkos, as in some ancestor of the president’s?”

  “Yes. We also believe the Turgonians kept records.” Tosii’s gaze dropped to the deck, perhaps indicating the wreck and what they believed it held—had held. “Through Mrs. Mokkos’s journal, we know that our ancestors decided they weren’t leaving. Some felt we had to attack, to strike first and drive the Turgonians away. Others said they were tired of fighting and pointed out that they’d left their homeland to seek peace. Some noted how many weapons the Turgonians had brought with them and the way they practiced with swords in their daily lives. They pointed out that it’d be ludicrous to pick a fight with a warrior society. While all this discussion was going on, a small group of people decided to solve the problem on their own. A botanist had brought seeds and samples from home, wanting to bring some of their old life to their new habitat, and apparently there was also a sample of the organisms that caused the plague. The botanist had thought to study the species and find a cure. Regardless, this group of people took the sample, sneaked into the Turgonian town, and spread it around.”

  Tikaya shuddered. Even though she’d known something like this must have happened, it disturbed her anew to think that her people could have, in a calculating, premeditated manner, chosen murder. It was a strong word, but she couldn’t bring herself to use a less condemning one.

  “The Turgonians were decimated, but they were a hardy folk and more people survived than was expected. At that point, our ancestors believed they were forced to attack, to finish the job that an unauthorized few had started. If not… the Turgonians would have no doubt as to who’d caused all these deaths. So, our people charged in and attacked, using hunting bows and boar spears against swords and harpoon launchers. The Turgonians had superior weapons and training, but their numbers were few. Our people were winning, but a few Turgonians slipped away during the night with their most prized possessions, and, we assume, records of the events. They boarded their ship and used darkness to cover their escape. Almost.”

  “We didn’t see what sank the ship,” Tikaya said. “The wreck was as pristine as something that’d spent centuries at the bottom of the sea could be.”

  “Our journalist, Mrs. Mokkos, wasn’t amongst the attackers and only recorded that our people destroyed it without warning, to ensure no reinforcements could be brought. They proceeded to kill everyone in the settlement as well. Many were against it, but their choice had been made for them. To let anyone survive would be to risk the annihilation of our people when word reached the remaining Turgonians. And those original colonists… if they hadn’t survived, our entire people, our culture and all we’ve accomplished in science and the mental sciences would never have existed.”

  Justification, Tikaya thought. “History is full of atrocities, though I suppose it’s different when it’s your own people who committed them. Easier to lord over those warlike Nurians and Turgonians when we have the luxury now to live a peaceful lifestyle. We’ve done a good job of portraying a pure image to the world, haven’t we?”

  “It’s not our image we’re worried about,” Jikaymar said. “The Turgonians already want our islands. This would give them an excuse to marshal their entire force and take them. No other country would come to our aid, not if it came out that the Turgonians were here first and we slew them to take the islands for ourselves.” He gave Tosii an exasperated look, as if to say he’d known Tikaya wouldn’t understand and ask why she’d bothered to share the story.

  Tosii was gazing at Tikaya through hooded eyes. “It was a small group of people who made a decision the rest of the colonists had to live with. And which their descendants must, per force, live with also. According to Mrs. Mokkos, the rest of the colonists were outraged, but we know the names of those who participated in the group that sailed over to unleash the plague spores. Their descendants have extremely large, fertile parcels of land on the main island, close to the harbor.”

  Suggesting they’d been rewarded, not ostracized. And, from the way Tosii continued to stare at her, she must want Tikaya to think of her own family. “I assume the Komitopis who served as translator was also in this party,” Tikaya said.

  “He was.”

  That made Tikaya wonder if her father had been strong-armed at all. Had he chosen to go along with the high ministers, to ensure the family’s secrets remained buried? “Well, I’d already learned about the adulteress in my bloodlines. Apparently we weren’t all wholesome plantation workers after all.”

  Tosii blinked. Had she expected Tikaya to be more upset? To jump to join their side because of this revelation?

  “The Turgonians already want me dead for my role in the war,” Tikaya said. “What are they going to do? Kill me twice?”

  Jikaymar frowned at Tosii. “This was a waste of time.”

  “Let’s get back to discussing Rias and his terms,” Tikaya said. “I doubt very much that he wants to see the Kyatt Islands ravaged or our people annihilated over something that happened seven centuries ago.”

  Jikaymar snorted. “Why not? He was the one who tried to make those things happen three years ago.”

  “All he wanted was an outpost here, for more convenient monitoring of the Nurians. As I understand it, he came here openly, hoping to negotiate for it. You must have been privy to that.” Belatedly, she realized she had only Rias’s word as to those events. She didn’t doubt him, but if these two ministers hadn’t been involved, they’d have no reason to believe it.

  “Yes, he came,” Jikaymar said, “and I said no. To give the Turgonians a base would have been, in the Nurians’ eyes, to ally with the empire.”

  I? Jikaymar had been the one to veto the outpost? Had the president been consulted? Rias, she recalled, had never met the president. One of the first things he’d asked her, back when he’d been Prisoner Five, was if the president was a good man.

  “In response,” Jikaymar said, “they sent a fleet to utterly destroy us.”

  “By the emperor’s orders, not Rias’s,” Tikaya said. “He respected us for fighting back. He even respected—” me, she thought, but changed it to, “—our cryptanalysts for deciphering their codes. He’s an honorable man who appreciates an honorable battle. He refused to help the assassin the emperor sent to kill the president.”

  “The what?” Jikaymar looked at Tosii, but she only shrugged and said, “If that’s true, that might explain why the president hasn’t been as quick to see him as an enemy. Perhaps we should have…” She glanced at Tikaya and shut her mouth.

  “You’ve mentioned his terms multiple times,” Jikaymar told Tikaya. “What does he want? More specifically, what is it going to take to keep him silent on this matter?”

  “He’s not willing to remain silent,” Tikaya said.

  Jikaymar gave her the sort of look one gives to an ill-prepared squid dish with the rubbery texture of a bicycle tire. “That’s your opening move? That’s obviously going to be unacceptable to us.”

  “He believes that as long as he’s the only one outside of your inner cadre to know this secret, his life will be at risk. At any point, someone may decide it’s safer if he’s simply not around to drop the coconuts.”

  “We’re not assassins,” Jikaymar said.

  Tikaya intertwined her fingers on the table and gave him her best is-that-a-fact stare. Out loud, she said, “He’s unwilling to risk that, given the events that have take place over the last couple of weeks. He proposes, instead, that the information be made publicly available to the entire world and—”

  Jikaymar’s sputtering interrupted her. Tosii dropped her forehead into her hand.

  “In exchange,” Tikaya continued, “Rias is willing to act as a military adviser should any nations sail into Kyattese wa
ters with hostile intent.”

  “Oh, sure,” Jikaymar said, “he’s going to take our side against the Turgonians. You expect us to believe that? What reason does he have to defend the Kyatt Islands?”

  “Me, you dolt.” Tikaya caught herself rolling her eyes at him, but stopped. Negotiators probably weren’t supposed to do such things. Before Jikaymar could deliver an insulting comment on the value of her worth, she added, “He proposed to me. And I would have accepted by now if you folks hadn’t been so busy trying to blow us up.”

  For the first time in the meeting, neither Jikaymar nor Tosii could come up with a response. Tosii must not have been browsing in that particular pasture in Tikaya’s mind, for she seemed even more shocked than Jikaymar.

  “In addition to his council, Rias is willing to share the schematics for his submarine with our people.” All right, he hadn’t said that, but Tikaya believed he would if she negotiated for it. He was giving the plans to the Nurians after all. “And he will assist with building a small fleet of research submarines as well.” Hm, maybe she should have checked with him on that one. How did marriage customs work in Turgonia? Did the bride give a gift to the husband’s family or was it the other way around? The Kyattese used to have a bride price. Goats, pigs, and sometimes canoes, as she recalled. Rias could be the first one to offer a bride’s father submarines.

  “Research submarines?” Jikaymar asked.

  “He’s Turgonian. If the prototype is anything to go on, they’ll have torpedoes and deployable mines. I’m sure these submarines could be invaluable in defending the islands, should that ever be necessary.”

  “That prototype has certainly vexed the rum out of our barrels,” Tosii said. “Even with the Science, it’s difficult to judge where it is when it’s submerged. The Turgonians don’t even study the mental sciences, so they’d be doubly clueless in finding a craft like that.”

  Though surprised by the support, Tikaya gave the other woman a quick nod.

  Jikaymar rubbed his chin. “With underwater attack vessels—”

  “Research submarines,” Tikaya said.

  “—available to protect against sailing fleets, I imagine we’d be able to fight off far greater forces. They’d learn to consider the Kyattese seas akin to a mine field.”

  “Undoubtedly,” Tikaya said. “And Rias has quite the reputation in Turgonia. His people would think twice before launching an attack if they knew he was an honored and valued adviser to our government, an adviser who walks freely about the islands without being harassed by its citizens.”

  Tosii snorted. “Is that one of his terms?”

  “No, that’s my term.” Tikaya didn’t want her future… husband—she blushed at the thought—to be forced to wear ridiculous clam diggers and sun-colored floral shirts because he was worried he had to appear unthreatening here.

  Shouts sounded on the deck above. A second later, knocks struck the door with enough force to rattle the planks. “High ministers?” came the accompanying shout.

  “Yes, what?” Jikaymar called.

  The door flew open, and an earnest cabin boy clutched his hat to his chest. “Pardon, sir, ma’am, but there’s a ship. It’s swung out of the shipping lane and is approaching our position. It’s the Eagle’s Perch.”

  It wasn’t until Jikaymar and Tosii exchanged knowing glances that the significance of the name emerged from Tikaya’s memory. “That’s the president’s ship, isn’t it?”

  “He did say he’d be returning this week,” Jikaymar said.

  “There’s more, sir,” the cabin boy said. “The black monster? It’s on the surface and is approaching the Perch.”

  “What?” Jikaymar stood so quickly, he knocked his chair over.

  Tosii stood as well, but ran straight past the cabin boy and out the door.

  Jikaymar spun toward Tikaya. “Starcrest won’t attack the president, will he?”

  It took Tikaya a second to realize “black monster” had to be their name for the submarine. “No, of course not. He probably thinks he can get further circumventing you and approaching the president directly.” Tikaya hoped that was all Rias had in mind. In addition to everything else, he might be worried about her at this point. She had been on the ship for some time. It wasn’t surprising that he’d know who sailed around in the Eagle’s Perch, but he didn’t mean to force a resolution in a… martial manner, did he?

  Jikaymar may have been thinking along the same path, for he grabbed her arm and jerked his head toward the door. “We’re going up top.”

  Tikaya twisted free from his grip before they reached the stairs and jogged up of her own accord. She rushed to a railing that was already lined with people. The president’s large catamaran could reputedly make great speed, but they had brought down its sails and it was gliding to a stop. The Freedom, its form indeed nearly black compared to the twin white hulls of the Perch, bobbed alongside it. It was close enough that Rias could have hopped out and climb aboard the president’s ship.

  Tikaya cleaned her spectacles and squinted. The hatch was open. Maybe Rias had already boarded. What was he up to? He’d given up his advantage by coming to the surface—Tosii or another practitioner could easily target the submarine now. Rias hadn’t known if the president was aware of the assassination attempt he’d stopped or not, so he couldn’t be certain he’d receive a friendly reception on the Perch. For all he knew, he’d be shot if he stepped aboard.

  “What’s he about?” Tikaya murmured.

  Tosii walked up to stand at Jikaymar’s elbow. She whispered something in his ear. Pointing out that the submarine was on the surface and therefore vulnerable? They wouldn’t fire with the president’s ship next to it. What if they missed? Of course, a weapon guided by the mental sciences might be trusted not to miss.

  “Yosis, come here,” Jikaymar barked.

  Before the practitioner could obey, a young sailor scrambled down from the crow’s nest, almost tripping over his bare feet as he ran up to Jikaymar. “Sir, we can’t fire at the black monster. The president went aboard.” His voice squeaked with excitement—or intense alarm—on the last word.

  “What? What’s he thinking?” Jikaymar flung out an arm. “Take us over there.”

  Tikaya blew out a slow breath.

  “Did he go aboard of his own will?” Tosii asked.

  The young sailor nodded. “The crew of the Perch was terribly concerned when the black monster popped up in front of them, and men were scurrying all about on deck, but the Scourge popped right out and started talking to folks. It wasn’t long before the president himself came out. Don’t know what they were telling each other, but he climbed overboard with one of his men and they disappeared inside.”

  Jikaymar’s ship glided closer as the conversation progressed. They’d be alongside the Perch in a moment. Full daylight had come, so Tikaya could see the nervous expressions on the faces of the sailors pacing the Perch’s deck. Watching the president disappear into the strange craft had to be nerve-wracking, especially for those who knew exactly who Rias was.

  Everyone on both decks halted their pacing when a head rose from the Freedom’s hatchway, and Tikaya imagined she heard collective exhales of relief. The president’s short sandy hair was more gray than blond these days, but, with a clean-shaven face and a slender build, he appeared similar to the last time she had seen him. Rias climbed out behind him. They were still too far away for Tikaya to hear words spoken, but the president must have invited Rias aboard, for they clambered up onto the Perch. Leaving the Freedom unguarded? Mee Nar wasn’t in sight, but he wouldn’t know how to take the submarine under if someone tried to board it.

  “Mister President,” Jikaymar called.

  The president squinted into the rising sun at them. “Yes, yes, come aboard, high ministers.” He didn’t sound that pleased with his right-and left-hand people. Good. “You too, Ms. Komitopis.”

  Hm, he didn’t sound that pleased with her either.

  CHAPTER 22

  Once
aboard the Eagle’s Perch, Tikaya found herself sitting at a fancy full-slab wooden table with Rias to her left and the president to her right. Jikaymar, Tosii, and a couple of other officials that hadn’t been introduced sat across from them. Rias had given Tikaya a reassuring pat on the shoulder before they sat down, whatever that meant. She wanted to tug him to the side and brief him on her discussion with the high ministers, but there’d been no opportunity.

  Once everyone had settled into their seats, the president rested his hands on the table, fingers steepled, and met each person’s eyes. “I understand there are no secrets left in this room.”

  Tikaya glanced at Rias, still wondering what he knew. His face gave away nothing, not even to her.

  “And,” the president went on after a glance at Tosii, “I understand we have an offer on the table.”

  The president was also, Tikaya recalled, a telepath. But Tosii had seemed as surprised as anyone at the appearance of the president’s ship, so they couldn’t have been in communication for long. A single hasty exchange perhaps?

  “And that there’s been a marriage proposal.” The president didn’t smile exactly, but the creases at the corners of his blue eyes deepened.

  Several faces swung toward Tikaya, and she blushed. Rias, too, regarded her, as if to ask what had prompted her to include that tidbit in the negotiations.

  “Yes.” Tikaya cleared her throat and faced the president. “Is that pertinent to this discussion?”

  The president spread his hands. “It may be. What Admiral Starcrest wishes to reveal to the world… Well, once the octopus is released from the trap, one does not shove it back in.”

  Tikaya kept herself from wincing at the mention of an octopus.

  “Thus it is, with our… checkered history,” the president went on. He liked to make those dramatic pauses, Tikaya noticed. Maybe he was simply guarding his words carefully before letting them fall. “Admiral Starcrest, on the other hand, can only prove his willingness to keep his word over time. In short, he is asking much from us with nothing tangible that can be given immediately, to ensure his future cooperation.”