“Put out that dreadful thing,” Yosis growled, speaking for the first time all evening.
“Dreadful?” Ell lifted his cigarette. “My proprietary blend of vanilla-spiced tobacco is most certainly not dreadful. It’s—” He crinkled his nose. An acrid, smoky scent had drifted into the courtyard. “That’s not me.”
“Fire?” Rias released Tikaya’s hand and snapped into an alert posture.
“It smells worse than a wood fire,” Tikaya said.
A surprised yell came from inside the house, or perhaps the lanai on the far side. Rias must have thought it originated outside, for he ran to the back of the courtyard and raced around the corner of the house.
Yosis cursed and fumbled to snap his journal shut.
Tikaya gripped his arm before he could think of stopping Rias with that ghastly device. “I’m sure he’s going to help.”
But the rest of her family might not appreciate his “help.” Tikaya released Yosis and ran after Rias.
Since she’d changed back into sandals, her footwear slapped against the flagstones as she raced around the house. As much as she’d loathed that Turgonian uniform, the boots had been more practical for active pursuits. She didn’t need to run far before a startling sight brought her to a halt so quickly she almost tripped.
The front lawn was on fire.
It wasn’t some random bonfire, but three lines of… Tikaya squinted. Letters? Words? From her angle, she couldn’t read them.
Her kin were pouring out of the house to stand on the lanai and gape. Tikaya searched about for Rias. When she didn’t see him on the lanai or lawn, a hunch drew her gaze upward. He stood on the roof, looking down at the flames, his face grim. She thought about shouting up to him, asking for a translation, but decided to climb up instead.
Using the corner lanai post for support, she clambered up the railing and pulled herself onto the roof without any particular grace. Unlike her brother, she’d never been one to sneak out from the second-story bedrooms to run off with friends or lovers, so she lacked practice. She made it up, though, and joined Rias. From the elevated perch, the flaming words were easy to make out. Unfortunately.
Go home, joratt. Death awaits you here.
“I suppose you can read that,” Tikaya said, groping for a way to make light of the situation, though worry weighed upon her heart. And anger as well. What bastard would have come onto her family’s property to do such a thing? Though a hint of the mental sciences lingered in the air and was doubtlessly responsible for the perfect outlines of those letters in flames, any fire had the potential to get out of hand. What if sparks landed on the thatch roof of the house?
“My vocabulary has many holes in it, but those are words I knew long before I met you, yes.”
“I’m sorry, Rias. I’m sure it’s just one angry person who’s misguided and not thinking. Or…” She stopped. She didn’t want to justify the actions of whatever idiot had done this.
“As I was saying, it’ll be best if I leave tonight.” Rias touched her back gently and maneuvered past her to hop off the roof.
Feeling numb, Tikaya watched the flames until her father’s bellow echoed up from the lanai below. “Everyone stop standing around. Get down here to put out this fire!”
By the time Tikaya climbed down, Rias and Yosis were gone.
CHAPTER 6
“It’s fascinating,” Professor Liusus said, her face so close to the black sphere, she kept bumping it with her nose. Her chin clunked the bamboo table on which the artifact sat more than once. She didn’t notice. She held her spectacles in one hand and, with the other, kept shoving back gray strands of hair that fell into her eyes as she examined the artifact from every angle. It’d been at least ten minutes since she’d said anything to Tikaya or acknowledged her presence in the room.
Tikaya didn’t mind. She knew Liusus had a passion as strong as her own, though her specialty was maritime archaeology rather than philology. They’d had occasion to work together often, and Tikaya considered Liusus a friend and mentor.
Tikaya leaned forward and touched a series of symbols on the outside of the object. A spherical projection formed in the air above the device, depicting one of the race’s languages, the last thing she had been studying. Liusus stumbled back, hand to her chest, eyes wide. She bumped her chair, upturning it with a loud thunk that echoed through the library alcove, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“That’s not an artifact,” she said, giving the word the special accent to refer to a practitioner-crafted device rather than an archeological find. “There’s no sense of—”
“I know,” Tikaya said. “It’s all technology-based.”
“Technology…” Liusus started to lean back over the table again, but her foot caught on the leg of the fallen chair. She stared at it for a moment, as if perplexed as to why a piece of furniture might be lying down there, then straightened it with an exasperated grunt. “Have you showed this to anyone else yet?”
Liusus eyed the surrounding shelves full of scrolls and textbooks, as if she feared some spy might be watching from behind the stacks.
“Yes, the police searched my bags when I returned, and the artifacts were flagged and sent over to Dean Teailat. He, his staff, and I had quite the discussion about them this morning.” Tikaya had relayed the same story that she’d shared with her family, though there’d been far more questions related to the tunnels, language, artifacts, and ancient people. She’d given accurate accounts of everything. Someone had to know the truth about what the relic raiders and the Turgonians had been up to, and how dangerous the technology was, as she wasn’t comfortable holding all that information to herself, though she did hope she could trust her colleagues to remain tightlipped about everything.
“And they let you have them back?” Liusus asked.
“Sort of. I’m to keep them at the Polytechnic and only study them here until the department heads have met and discussed the situation. I’m still trying to arrange communication with the president. He definitely needs to know about all this, and I need his help with another matter as well.”
“Yes.” Liusus reclaimed her seat. “I understand your other matter is the talk of the island.”
Tikaya grimaced. Her colleague had never married, nor, in the years Tikaya had known her, shown interest in physical relations; she’d hoped Liusus would be too fascinated with the artifacts to care about rumors concerning Rias. In the less than twenty-four hours that she’d been home, Tikaya had already received enough advice on that matter and had no wish to discuss it again.
“The fire in your yard must have been alarming,” Liusus said, her tone sympathetic.
“Yes… Who have you been hearing all the details from?” Tikaya wondered which of her family members was blabbing to the world. Everyone might know about Rias, but what happened on their plantation ought not be fodder for the island gossip mills.
“It was in the morning newspaper.”
“I didn’t think you read the news. It’s too recent, you’ve said on many occasions.”
“That’s correct,” Liusus said, “but everyone was discussing it in the staff lounge this morning.”
Tikaya sighed. “Wonderful.”
“If it cheers you up, only one in three of your colleagues thinks the Turgonian has brainwashed you into bringing him here so he can spy while perpetrating the ruse of being your lover.”
“Wonderful,” Tikaya repeated. “What do the other two thirds think?” Why, she wondered, am I asking when the answer will only irritate me?
“Mixed reactions. A few outliers think you may be knowingly colluding with him, rather than being brainwashed—”
Tikaya rolled her eyes. Was that supposed to be an improvement?
“—but those were people who aren’t aware of what your work in the war entailed. A couple of optimistic sorts who are aware of your cryptography contributions—and admire them very much—think you’re working for the president and, under his orders, seduced the admiral in o
rder to extract information for our people’s benefit.”
Tikaya snorted. That was new. And even more ridiculous than the rest. As if she could seduce someone. “Does anyone think we were thrust into an adventure together, against our wishes, and happened to fall in love along the way?”
Liusus scratched her jaw thoughtfully. “I don’t recall that version. Not enough intrigue to capture people’s fancies, I imagine.”
No, of course not. “So, how are you doing? Is anything new happening in the world of marine archaeology? I haven’t talked to you much this last year.” Tikaya would have wanted to catch up with her colleague anyway, but she’d specifically sought Liusus out because of Rias’s message.
“Yes, I’ve been busy looking over wreckage from a Danmesk Empire shipyard that was unearthed on the Bratar Coast, a good four hundred miles south of what was previously believed to be the southern most border of the empire. We believe volcanic activity buried a significant coastal colony there nearly two thousand years ago.” Liusus took a breath, signifying that she was warming up to a lengthy lecture on the topic.
“Nothing closer to home?” Tikaya felt rude for cutting her friend off, and, in different circumstances, would have enjoyed hearing about the new dig, but she was quite certain that a civilization that had been dead for over fifteen hundred years wouldn’t have a problem with Rias building a submarine.
“What do you mean?” Liusus asked.
“Around the islands. Our islands.”
“Our history is well documented, given that our people were writing and keeping records when we first colonized the islands seven hundred years ago. The maritime museum even has one of the original settlers’ ships on display, along with examples of dress, tools, and housing from the time period.” Liusus tilted her head. “But you’ve been to the museum, surely, and know all of that.”
“Yes, I was just wondering…” Tikaya removed her spectacles and took a moment to clean the lenses while considering if she should tell her colleague about Rias’s suspicions. She believed she could trust Liusus, but she didn’t even know what to ask. All she had to go on was Rias’s hunch. “Rias sketched out plans for a submarine while we were on our way over here, and, out of all the items he had that might have given the authorities cause for alarm, it was those sketches that drew Jikaymar’s attention.”
“Jikaymar? The high minister in charge of foreign relations?”
“Yes.”
Liusus spread her arms. “I imagine he sees a submarine as a craft that could be used to spy upon our people. You can’t blame him for being alarmed. Was there anything unusual about the design?”
“Only that Rias believed he could make it work for long voyages. He said his people haven’t been able to do more than putter around on the bottoms of ponds, because there’s no way to create a viable underwater propulsion system with wood or coal as the fuel. He thought to acquire a Made power source from a local craftsman.”
“Well, there you go. Can you imagine the potential power of a craft that married our Science with imperial metallurgy and engineering technology? The Turgonians may be warlike and brutal by our standards, but nobody would call them dumb. They have the best ships in the world. When it comes to the mental sciences, they’re as superstitious as children in a graveyard on All Spirits Day, but that’s a good thing as far as the rest of the world is concerned. I’m sure the high minister is horrified by the idea of Turgonian submarines that use Kyattese power sources. What if your admiral is designing a prototype, and he intends it to be the first of dozens or even hundreds that their military builds? Can you imagine what sort of advantage that would provide in naval warfare? They could be ready to take on the Nurians again by the end of the decade. And where would that leave our little islands? In the line of fire again.”
Though Tikaya had been shaking her head all through the latter half of the speech, it took a lot to stop Liusus once her taro pot started bubbling over. “He’s only interested in building it for us,” Tikaya said. “Him and me. So we can work on intriguing puzzles and digs from the world of eld and then disappear beneath the sea if his past enemies catch up with us.” As much as Tikaya had always considered herself a homebody, the idea of such explorations had grown on her, and she smiled as she explained it, not realizing until she finished that Liusus was watching her with a frank gaze.
“You were never this hopelessly quixotic when you were engaged to Parkonis.”
At least she hadn’t called Tikaya naive. Yet. “No, we were a very… practical couple. But Parkonis never gave me a reason to adore him… Rias is very…”
“Yes, I’ve seen the tintype.”
Tikaya blushed. Was she the only one on the island who wouldn’t have recognized him at first glance? “I was going to say supportive. He makes you feel bigger than you are instead of smaller.”
“He’s certainly bigger than average.” Liusus’s eyes glinted behind her spectacles. “I suppose all his body parts are proportional.”
Tikaya’s blush grew so fierce it threatened to singe her cheeks from the inside out. “I never knew you had such a wicked mind, Liusus.” Figuring she’d best change the subject before she burst into flames, Tikaya switched back to the original topic. “If I wanted to research Kyattese maritime archaeology, where would be a good place to start? The Oceanography Wing of the library?”
Liusus studied Tikaya for a long moment before answering. “Yes.”
“Thank you.” Tikaya picked up the sphere and took a step toward the door, but Liusus’s words halted her.
“There are detailed bathymetrical maps of the waters around the Kyatt Islands in there. I trust… they won’t be used against our people.”
Such as by a spy in a submarine? Tikaya sighed. “He’s not working for the empire any more, Liusus. The emperor treated him like grimbal droppings, and he’s no longer interested in obeying imperial orders. And my kidnapping certainly didn’t cause me to develop a fondness for Turgonians. Quite the opposite, I assure you. I have no interest in those maps.”
“What are you looking for then?”
Good question. “I’m hoping I’ll know it when I see it.”
Liusus didn’t look suspicious exactly, but she did appear concerned. Tikaya groped for a way to lessen that concern before leaving.
“Who was it that thought I could actually seduce a man?” she asked.
Liusus blinked a few times. “Professors Iolas and Koaneoa.”
“Ah, one man blind and the other eighty years old. That explains much.” Tikaya smiled and waved.
This time she made it to the doorway before Liusus’s words made her pause.
“You’re not homely, Tikaya. You’re just tall.”
“Yes, well, it’s good that I found someone who’s… proportional, eh?”
Tikaya left Liusus making choking noises that might have indicated surprise or laughter or both. She strode through the sprawling Polytechnic library, a three-story building of volcanic stone walls and banyan tree wood. Though the Kyattese generally preferred symmetry and logic when it came to construction, the library was one of the oldest structures on the island and had grown and evolved over the centuries, leaving it something of a maze to newcomers. Tikaya knew it well though and found her way to the northern wing on the second floor. A sign on the Oceanography room door made her pause.
Closed for repairs.
“Repairs?” Tikaya tried the door and found it locked. “What kind of repairs could a library possibly need?”
Nobody was around to answer her question.
• • • • •
As Tikaya strode up the cracked walkway of the Pernicious Miasma, lizards, rats, and other verminous creatures skittered in and out of the overgrown clumps of grass on either side. Stuck in the middle of a shallow basin, the inn was not the benefactor of any tropical breezes, so the smells of the nearby harbor—seaweed, fish, and the burning coal from someone’s steamer—hung in the air. Warehouses arose on all sides, further hemming in the
one-story building. A driftwood sign, half hidden by the tall grass, proclaimed it the Pragmatic Mate, but someone had painted Pernicious Miasma across the front in bold red letters. A piece of paper tacked to the side read, “Turgonians welcome” in the imperial tongue, though the nightly and weekly rates listed at the bottom were twice the normal prices.
When Tikaya grasped the doorknob, something sticky licked at her palm. She yanked her hand away with a grimace, wiping it on her dress. If the world were fair, the proprietor would be paying Rias to stay there.
A potted plant with more brown fronds than green nearly thwacked her in the face when she walked inside. Rusty iron bars covered a window to the left of the narrow hallway. Nobody sat at the desk inside the cubby, so she picked up a metal wand and rang a triangle dangling from one of the cross bars. Three lizards scurried across the floor and disappeared into cracks in the wall.
Several moments passed before a curly-haired blond man limped into the hallway, leaning on a staff as he walked. “Help you, ma’am?” he asked.
“Yes, did a Turgonian named Rias check in here last night?”
“Along with an older Kyattese practitioner? Yes. Most unlikely pair I’ve ever seen. We don’t discriminate, but I didn’t know whether to give them the local rate, the Turgonian rate, or the hourly rate.”
It took Tikaya a moment to get past the image his words birthed, then come up with a response. “What rate do you charge the lizards?”
“They eat the flies and crickets, so they stay for free.”
“I see. What room is Rias in?”
“Three, but I don’t think they’re in. They left early this morning. Surprising since they were out so late at the gambling hall.”
“The gambling hall?” Tikaya hadn’t known there were gambling halls on the island—the Book of Akahe frowned upon such vices—though she supposed the waterfront businesses thrived by catering to visiting foreigners.
“Yes, after the big man asked for directions, they were gone for hours last night.”
“Any idea where they went this morning?” Tikaya asked.
Forgotten Ages (The Complete Series) Page 45