“You’re not looking at them,” Gali snapped. “I imagine that’ll make the translation difficult.”
“I’m ruminating,” Tikaya said.
“On how to escape, I know.” Gali slapped the pistol across her palm. “Ruminate on getting through that door.”
Tikaya held the goggles before her spectacles and peered through the magnifying lenses. The symbols grew crisper, the nuances easier to make out. They were numbers. Four rows of four, each different. She only recognized a few, but she could look up the others with the sphere if she could find a private place to take it out.
She pushed the tool from her mind. Better these people did not know about it.
With the enhanced vision, she examined the rest of the weapons chamber. A cuboid contraption hung from a ceiling and was attached to a large pipe disappearing into the cavern depths far above. Some kind of fan or ventilation system to suck away fumes if there was a break or accident? Probably not fast enough to save the life of the person inside, but if the door shut and that fan activated perhaps destroying the weapons would not prove deadly for everyone down here.
“What does one do with the symbols?” Tikaya asked. “Push them?”
“I wasn’t there,” Gali said, “but I heard Atner stood down here and moved them around with telekinetics.”
Gali stretched a hand toward the butte. One of the numbers indented and glowed red. She twitched her fingers, and it slid one place to the right. The number on the right edge disappeared and reappeared on the left.
“How’d you do that?” Tikaya asked.
“A bit of sideways pressure. The runes glide around naturally, as if they’ve been greased. Atner fiddled around for days and finally got lucky. But he only got in once and the symbols changed after that.”
“But he got a rocket out. How was he able to get it down without the web destroying it in midair?”
Gali shrugged. “The web didn’t attack it.”
“So, the defense system won’t attack what it’s supposed to defend?” Tikaya wondered if there was anything else it would not attack.
The symbol winked off, though it did not return to its original slot. Three red beams lanced out of the clear door. Tikaya jumped, nearly dropping the goggles. The beams scoured the air in front of the door. After a moment, they cut off.
“I guess if you don’t punch in the correct code while you’re standing up there, you get incinerated.” She chewed on the side of her mouth. “Your telekinesis does offer a workaround the original builders probably didn’t consider. If they were here as long ago as I suspect, humans wouldn’t have had the skill yet. Relatively speaking, our command of the mental sciences is a recent development in civilization. It’s not something that started appearing until after we developed agriculture and became more agrarian rather than hunter-gatherer. More free time, creation of a leisure class, and—”
“We didn’t bring you here for a lecture,” Gali snapped. “Figure out how to get in before your cursed Turgonian lover gets here.”
Tikaya turned her attention back to the numbers. The ones she recognized were prime: three, five, seven, eleven, thirteen, seventeen, nineteen. Could the whole series just be the first sixteen primes? She had not learned numbers beyond twenty yet, so she would have to look them up. Presumably, the sixteen digits had to be arranged in a specific order to open the door. If Atner Lancecrest had pushed them randomly, he truly had gotten ‘lucky.’ Rias could no doubt give her the exact odds of guessing correctly, but what she remembered of studying permutations in school suggested a ridiculously high number of combinations.
She did not have time for guessing. If the code changed regularly, it was probably a puzzle of some sort. If one knew the goal, one had a better chance of solving it. Could it be as simple as placing them in order? No, too obvious to someone who spoke the language, and the scientists who had built this place had surely had their own people in mind as potential trespassers, not the cave-dwelling humans who had occupied the world at the time.
There had to be more to it. Tikaya dug a sheet of paper out and copied the numbers for later perusal.
A distant clanking started up. She cocked an ear, trying to identify it. The noise had a muffled quality and did not sound like it came from within the cavern. A few men ran out of the camp and into a tunnel.
“I want to take rubbings of the panels too,” Tikaya said.
“Whatever,” Gali said.
Relieved, Tikaya pretended no more than vague scientific curiosity as she copied the panels—and the schematic on the inside of the cube cabinet.
“Can you work those?” Gali asked suspiciously.
“No.” Tikaya closed the cabinet and tucked the rubbings into her pocket along with the numbers.
“Tikaya?”
She turned to find Parkonis standing a few feet away. The remaining marines and relic raiders carried bows or firearms. Parkonis had nothing more offensive than a utility knife. The last year had apparently not turned him into a fighter.
Gali backed away a few paces, giving them a semblance of privacy.
“Parkonis,” Tikaya said, not sure what else to say.
He pushed a tangle of curly hair out of his eyes. “I’m sorry I ran off.”
“Earlier today?” she asked. “Or a year ago?”
He grimaced.
“What happened out there, Par? You obviously got off your ship, but why couldn’t you come home?”
“The Turgonians sunk us, just as you heard, but Atner Lancecrest happened by and rescued those left alive. There were only four of us. He showed us the runes from this place, and I was intrigued, of course. He swore us to secrecy before telling us anything about them, then asked if we wanted to join his team, to travel to the source and work on translating a previously undiscovered language. He was leaving right away to recruit others from Nuria and the islands. There was no time to come home. It was a dream opportunity, Tikaya. I couldn’t refuse.”
“You don’t find it suspicious that he just ‘happened by’ right after the Turgonians attacked you? He was Turgonian himself. Maybe he wanted to appear a benevolent rescuer, but actually set up the whole thing. Maybe he had a deal with the captain of the ship that sank yours. All so he could get his hands on a handful of grateful archaeologists. Are you sure you had a choice about coming?”
“That’s far-fetched, Tikaya. Atner wasn’t a bad fellow.”
“Wasn’t a—he killed everyone in that fort out there. In a ghastly way. And those were his countrymen!”
Parkonis winced. “He was desperate at that point. We didn’t… I didn’t have anything to do with that. I swear. I didn’t know about the weapons when I agreed to come. We were just looking for relics, and in truth I only cared about the language.”
Yes, Tikaya could understand that temptation. She stepped toward him and softened her voice. “Even if you joined voluntarily—especially if you joined voluntarily—why didn’t you write, Par? How could you let us believe, for a whole year… We had your funeral. I stood next to your weeping sister and parents. This devastated them. And me too. I spent months trying to get over…” Her voice broke. She was still struggling to resolve this new reality with her memories.
Parkonis avoided her eyes. The distant clanking continued, like metal beating against rock.
“I should have written,” he said. “I just didn’t know how to without explaining everything. I was heading off to Turgonian territory, and I knew it’d be dangerous. I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Worry! I thought you were dead. How could worrying for your safety be worse than believing you dead?”
“I know, I realize that now. I was a fool. You were always the smart one. You weren’t going to marry me for my brains, were you?” He grinned, a disarmingly boyish grin that she knew well. And she knew when he was using it to cover something.
She folded her arms over her chest. “Did you not want me to worry or did you not want me to find out about the language?” She watched his ey
es as she spoke, waiting for—yes, there was a wince. “Colonel Lancecrest said his brother wanted me on the team from the beginning. Are you the one who talked him out of recruiting me?”
Parkonis looked away. “I told him you wouldn’t work for relic raiders, yes.”
“You wouldn’t either, at least I didn’t think so. But we do funny things for a chance at history, don’t we? I’ll wager you wanted to be the first to translate this new language, something you wouldn’t be able to lay claim to, not solely, if I came along and helped.”
He opened and closed his mouth several times, and she knew she was right.
“I didn’t think we’d be gone that long,” he finally whispered. “I thought, when we got back, we could pick up where we left off…”
“I understand.” Tikaya sighed. And she did. Hadn’t she been enticed by that language too?
“You do?” Hope widened his eyes.
“I understand, but I wouldn’t have made that choice. I would have wanted you to come along, to be a partner in the translating, even if it meant you got the credit.”
“But I wouldn’t have gotten credit. You were always first.” He shrugged helplessly. “It was always you.”
She rubbed her face and wondered if that clanking was in her skull. He was missing the point. Or she was. Maybe she couldn’t truly understand what he felt, always being second best. Either way, she was beginning to think it would have been too much between them, even if Rias had never come along. She thought of him, of all he had lost, and of the temptation Sicarius had laid at his feet. So much more than accolades. But he had rejected it because of her. At least, he had before Parkonis showed up and kidnapped her. What if Rias believed he had lost her? Would he no longer have a reason to say no to that temptation?
“Tikaya?” Parkonis asked.
She tried to focus on him, though a new urgency fueled her intent. She had to escape and find Rias before he made a choice he would regret.
“Whatever happens here…” She squeezed Parkonis’s arm. “I want you to know that I love you, and I’m beyond relieved that you’re alive, but I can’t go home with you. I can’t marry you.”
“What?” He reeled back. “Because of that Turgonian?”
“No.” She did not want to get into that now, but Parkonis grabbed her arm before she could step away.
“Don’t be a fool, Tikaya. You don’t love that monster. How could you? It’s a clear case of captive complex. No matter how badly you’re treated, you start sympathizing with your captors, even wanting to please them, because you’re grateful they’re not killing you.”
“I know what the term means, and that isn’t the case.” If anyone had captive complex, it was he. Even after hearing how he had come to be here, she could hardly believe Parkonis would be a party to this weapons-selling scheme.
“It’s not your fault. I forgive you. You were just trying to stay alive. Who knows what that monster would have done if you’d fought him?”
“He’s not a monster. I know our people have no reason to like him, and you even less, but he did save your life from that assassin. We can trust him. He disobeyed orders two years ago, and he refused to have our president assassinated. He’s been exiled since.”
“Exile?” Parkonis snorted. “Is that what they told you?”
“He’s only here because of his familiarity with these tunnels—he was part of the original mission that found them. He’s been as much a prisoner as I. He was the only ally I had.”
“Tikaya, don’t you see? It’s all an act. That man outranks a captain. If he’s been pretending to be a prisoner, it’s only been to fool you, to win your sympathy. He’s insidious, they all are. They’ve been tricking you.”
“I’m not a fool, Parkonis.”
“It’s not your fault. They say he’s a genius. He’s probably a master of manipulation.”
Tikaya groaned and dropped her forehead in her hand. Why couldn’t he just be jealous? Instead, he thought she was an idiot who had been brainwashed. This was a glimpse of what going home would be like. Torture. Her heart cringed at the idea of never seeing her family again, but maybe her notion of sailing off to some obscure port with Rias was a better idea than she realized.
“You have to come back with me, Tikaya. We’ll take you to see a doctor, someone who can heal your mind. You just need distance, some time to return to your old life. If—”
The lighting flickered and went out.
Tikaya whirled, but blackness swallowed everything. As with the marines, the raiders had been relying on the alien lighting and nobody had lanterns lit. Timorous voices called out questions while others cursed in irritation. The symbols at the weapons door and on the panels still glowed, but they did not provide enough illumination to diminish the darkness.
“Tikaya?” Parkonis’s hand bumped her chest, then found her arm.
She gripped him back. With the light gone, she abruptly grew aware of how many thousands of feet of earth lay above their heads. Since she had been unconscious for the trip to the raiders’ cavern, she did not know the way back. Half a dozen tunnels exited this place, so one could wander forever in the darkness.
A distant roar sounded. Or one could wander until one was eaten.
“Not them again,” Parkonis whispered.
She recognized it too. The humanoid creatures they had fought the first day.
Parkonis’s grip tightened. It did nothing to reassure her, not like Rias’s would have. She started. Could Rias have manufactured this? As a distraction?
Light appeared at the edge of the camp. Lancecrest strode toward them carrying a lantern, and she felt silly for her panicked concerns about not finding a way out. Of course, the raiders would have kerosene and lanterns, just as the marines did. Enough to last many days, she was sure. The roar came again. Closer this time.
“Come.” Lancecrest waved an arm. “Return to camp until we figure out what’s going on.”
“Gladly,” Parkonis muttered.
Tikaya glanced over her shoulder. She could no longer see the tunnel Lancecrest had said led to labs, but she wondered if this might be her opportunity to disappear. Had Rias created this for her sake? Or did he think she wanted to be here, with Parkonis?
Gali stepped out of the shadows, her pistol aimed at Tikaya.
Right. It would take more of a distraction to escape, and sprinting into dark monster-filled tunnels without a lantern and a means of defense would be unwise.
Inside the camp, more lanterns had been lit. People hustled about, grabbing weapons. An unclaimed bow and quiver rested on a crate, and she weaved through the clutter toward it. If those creatures were coming, maybe Lancecrest would not object to arming her.
A heavy hand landed on her shoulder.
“You’re sitting here out of trouble,” Lancecrest said.
Before she could protest, he grabbed her arms and drew them behind her back.
“Wait,” she said. “I can help fight. I know how to use a bow.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
A moment later, Tikaya knelt with her wrists tied behind her. She endured it with no more than a sigh until his hands fumbled at her ears.
“No!” She ducked her head.
Too late. Lancecrest removed her spectacles. Everything more than a few feet away grew fuzzy.
“I doubt you’ll wander far without these.”
Tikaya craned her neck, trying to see where he was putting them. He stuffed them in a pocket without any concern for protecting the lenses.
“Bastard,” she growled.
A shot fired, echoing from the closest tunnel. Everyone in camp dropped behind cover, but no squad of marines burst into the cavern. Three more shots followed, along with a distant angry yell. Still, no one entered. The raiders shifted uneasily.
Tikaya could not imagine the Turgonians tipping their hand before attacking, but maybe they had run into the creatures. Or Lancecrest’s traps.
She could not stay here and wait for som
ething to happen. A nearby lantern gave her enough light to see, and the white and green fletching on the arrows in the quiver caught her eye. She edged closer. Maybe if she could filch an arrow, she could use the head to cut her bonds. That would be easier if her hands were in front of her, but she had to try.
Something fluttered above the tunnel entrance. It was too far away for her to identify, but someone fired. Black powder smoke wafted into the air.
“That was a bat, you lummox,” Lancecrest said. “And you just confirmed to the Turgonians that we’re in here.”
“Sorry.”
“Scientists with guns,” Lancecrest muttered. “What was my brother thinking?”
As the smoke rose higher, slowly dissipating, a faint white beam appeared in the haze. Tikaya blinked, wondering if she imagined the light. But, no, even with her spectacles off, she could see a beam. It reminded her of those emitted by the cleaning machines. Maybe that was all the “web” was, a pattern of beams crisscrossing the cavern, invisible under regular illumination. But if smoke revealed them, one might avoid them.
Ideas percolated in her mind. But first, escape.
Staying low, she crawled toward the crate. Though men and women crouched all around her, their focus was outward. Why worry about the tied, half-blind philologist?
A couple more feet brought her to the quiver. Gali glanced at her and frowned, a what-are-you-doing expression stamping her face.
Tikaya attempted what she hoped appeared a guileless smile. “Can you help me find my spectacles?”
The woman scowled.
“Incoming!” someone barked.
All eyes turned toward the closest tunnel. Tikaya rose, turned, and slipped an arrow out of the quiver.
No one noticed. She dropped to her knees, putting her back to the crate. She found the sharp metal head and maneuvered it until the edge slipped between her wrists. Careful not to cut skin, she eased it up and down against the rope. The awkward position made it impossible to apply much pressure. She held back a scowl, knowing this would take a while.
Forgotten Ages (The Complete Series) Page 29