“You’re welcome to suggest that to them when we return.”
Footsteps clanged on the deck behind them.
“Find the wreck yet?” Mee Nar asked.
“Looking now,” Rias said.
“You see those fish out there? Those are the ugliest, strangest I don’t even know whats.”
“Any sign of explosives from our friends above?” Rias asked.
“I haven’t sensed any, or seen any signs that they’ve exploded down here.”
“Maybe the pressure crushed them before they could reach the ocean floor?” Tikaya suggested.
“It seems as if your people would be smart enough to compensate for that,” Rias said. “We—wait, got something. There’s a big change in the ridge topography ahead.” He checked his gauges, then peered through the viewport.
Tikaya pressed her shoulder against his, eager for a glimpse of the wreck. After all these weeks of sneaking about, searching through elusive—and missing—archives, and fighting against invisible foes, she couldn’t wait to see the source of all their troubles.
What glided into view, however, was not a ship. It was a crater. Almost hidden by a cloud of silty dirt, a huge concave gap marred the ridge. All the plant life was obliterated, and countless dead fish, squid, and other creatures Tikaya couldn’t identify floated about the area. Rocks and pebbles trickled down the sides, leaving little doubt that the crater had just been created.
“I was wondering how powerful those spheres were,” Rias muttered.
Tikaya pulled back, sickened by the view. How could her people, people who prided themselves on pursuing peaceful methods, both with other nations and with nature, make this choice? She could imagine Turgonians blowing up swaths of the countryside to test new weapons, but not the Kyattese. Her people didn’t do such things. They just… didn’t. She sat down hard.
Rias had paused the submarine long enough to pull out a scrap of paper. He scribbled an equation on it, then plugged in a few numbers.
“Are you calculating whether one of those spheres would blow us down to the South Pole if it hit?” Tikaya asked.
“Given the dampening effect the water’s pressure would have, the explosive potential is… Impressive. I didn’t think your people had any weapons like that. They didn’t hurl anything with that power at us during the war, unless you made advances during the last year when I was in exile.”
Tikaya was sure he didn’t mean to condemn her with that “you,” but it made her wince anyway. As if she’d been a part of this… “Apparently, my people are making progress.”
“Or are only willing to kill sea life and nosy intruders, not attack enemy warships with everything they’ve got.” Rias set aside his paper and took the controls in hand again. “Mee Nar, you’re still keeping a magic-seeing eye out for those spheres, right?”
“Yes,” Mee Nar said from behind Tikaya. “Your leak must be keeping them busy. I haven’t sensed anything new being dropped.”
“Good, though we can’t count on that lasting long.” Rias had nudged the submarine into motion again and was watching the echo ranging display. “Something else is coming up.”
This time, Tikaya didn’t lean in for a better look. She was afraid they’d find crater upon crater down there.
“I sense something,” Mee Nar said.
Rias’s hand froze on the control lever. “Dropping from above?”
“It’s… No.” Mee Nar stood with his eyes closed, chin drooped to his chest. “It’s already at our level, and I think… Yes, I’m positive. It’s not moving.”
“A dud?” Tikaya wondered. “That dropped down but didn’t explode?”
“Are we in danger of running into it?” Rias asked.
“I don’t think so,” Mee Nar said. “It’s on the ridge. Or on something on the ridge. Oh, that actually might be what you’re looking for.”
Tikaya frowned. What did that mean? She poked Rias. “Get closer.”
“Weren’t you the one telling me to go back up a moment ago?” Rias asked as he guided the submarine farther along the ridge.
“That was at least five moments ago, and you didn’t take the opportunity when you had the chance. It’s been rescinded.”
A deep moan emanated from the hull, and Tikaya’s humor disappeared. Mee Nar shifted uneasily too.
“We’ve reached the end of the ridge,” Rias said. “But there’s something… Yes, there it is.”
Outside of the porthole, a lumpy shape had come into view, its form so covered in centuries of mud and silt that Tikaya wouldn’t have identified it, if not for the masts. Even they were obscured by seaweed growing up around them. The ancient ship lay on its side, no holes obvious in its hull, at least not on the half she could see. Unlike modern Turgonian ships, it lacked portholes and spaces through which cannons could fire as well. If there were oar holes—and there should be on a vessel that age—grime had long since covered them up.
Shedding light upon the ship was a six-inch-wide glowing red sphere. It perched on one of the few sections of railing that weren’t broken, waiting to explode.
CHAPTER 19
Tikaya stared at the orb. She couldn’t believe it had landed so precariously without falling off the railing. Or exploding. Yet.
“I hope it is a dud,” Rias said. “Or it’s going to be inconvenient.”
Inconvenient? Tikaya thought of the crater they’d passed, and shuddered.
“I wouldn’t touch it,” Mee Nar said. “It’s emitting a lot of power.”
“It couldn’t have been made to explode on impact.” Rias guided the submarine along the wreck, showing them more of the ancient structure, the wood impressively preserved despite all the grime and growth on and around it. “Or it would have done so when it touched down. And then there are the ones above that exploded early in their descent.”
“Maybe it’s random,” Mee Nar said.
Rias took them up and over the ridge so they could see the back side of the wreck. “Is it possible someone is up there controlling when they explode?”
Mee Nar shook his head. “That would take a great deal of concentration, concentration that would have been difficult to maintain given the leak and other excitement that must be going on up above.”
“We’ll just do our best to avoid it then.”
While the men spoke, Tikaya was scouring the wreck with her eyes, searching for the clues that had prompted the treasure hunters to pen letters to the Turgonian military. “There aren’t any holes in the hull or on what we can see of the deck. The masts aren’t even broken. What caused it to sink?”
“A good question,” Rias said. “It shows little damage from the landing too. No debris field around it. That would have been different if it’d landed on top of the ridge, but it looks like it sank into plenty of mud on the side instead.” He pointed to the bottom of the hull. “It’s about ten feet deep.”
“I assume there’s no way for us to step outside of this vessel without being crushed,” Mee Nar said. “How are we going to get in to look around?”
Rias waved to the back. “The cutting tool wasn’t completely destroyed by the shark attack. We should be able to bore a hole in the hull.”
“One wide enough for us to pass through?” Tikaya asked. “Would that even be possible? This ship looks to be in better shape than the two-year-old ones in the harbor.”
“Yes, from what we’ve seen so far, it’s in pristine condition.” Rias slowed the submarine to a stop—they’d circled the wreck and come back to the sphere, which glowed ominously at them, like a guard dog growling at the gate of a junkyard.
Tikaya gave a short laugh. “Are we sure it’s the right ship?”
“Oh, yes,” Rias said. “That’s a colonial era penteconter. I had a model of one as a boy. The oars must be around somewhere, buried under the silt perhaps.”
“Time,” Mee Nar said.
“You sense something?” Tikaya asked.
“The Kyattese ship is heading back to its p
osition above the wreck.”
And above us, Tikaya thought.
“Let’s cut into the hull.” Rias closed his eyes for a moment. “If my model was historically accurate, the captain’s cabin would be forward, on the port side.”
“Who’s going to do the cutting?” Tikaya feared she already knew the answer to her question, and she eyed the sphere warily.
“You have as much experience as I do at this point,” Rias said.
“And rather less experience navigating.” Tikaya sighed and headed for the science station again. “Mee Nar, let me know… Give me a warning if you can.” She feared that if the sphere fell off the railing, or randomly decided it’d found the right moment to explode, there wouldn’t be time for a warning.
“I’ll try.” Mee Nar sounded even less optimistic than she felt.
Tikaya hesitated before maneuvering the claw and cutter out of whatever storage slots Rias had built into the hull. She remembered that he’d been able to get the mine from inside to outside but doubted that would be safe at these depths. “Are you sure these cutters will work down here? Can I grab something with the claw?” Would there even be anything in there to grab? What if the pressure had destroyed whatever evidence existed inside that hull?
“The tools should work—I had my helper make them sturdy, and we didn’t use anything that’ll contract or expand,” Rias called back. “But don’t open that hatch to bring anything inside. There’s an airlock, and it should technically work, but if you find something just hold onto it with the pincer, and we’ll go back to the surface to—”
Mee Nar interrupted him. Tikaya couldn’t hear what he said, but she could guess. The Kyattese ship was up to something.
She slid the cutting tool out of its cubbyhole. It took more effort to move it through the sluggish water down there, and the shark’s attack had left it with a wobble, but she managed to get the saw to the ancient hull. She held her breath when she started it up, but the sharp blade bored into the wood. Wood and centuries’ worth of ocean gunk. The saw’s bites stirred up a grayish-brown cloud, and soon Tikaya couldn’t see a thing outside the porthole.
“Great,” she said. “I couldn’t cut a decent circle even when I could see what I was doing.”
“Easy,” Rias warned. “The sphere is wobbling.”
Tikaya gulped and slowed down. They’d attributed randomness to the timing of those explosives, but maybe they weren’t granting those practitioners up there enough skill. What if that one had been sent down and placed precisely there to act as a booby trap? Disturb it and…
She shook her head and focused on her work. It was slow going. There was no way she could cut a hole large enough for the submarine to float through, especially not with that sphere poised to fall. She could only hope that they’d be able to find something helpful when they opened up the hull. If nothing else, she could cut a few smaller holes, and they could check various spots.
The hull of the Freedom moaned again. Tikaya eyed the walls warily. She told herself they were level, not going any deeper, so nothing should snap now. Despite the chilly air, she caught herself wiping sweat off her brow.
“Your progress?” Mee Nar asked from the hatchway.
“Hard to say. I can’t see much. Tell Rias to make a saw that can suck up the dust it makes next time.”
Mee Nar grunted and withdrew.
Abruptly, the resistance vanished, and she was cutting through air. Had she succeeded in slicing out a circle?
Tikaya pulled the tool out and squinted, trying to see through the haze. Guessing as to the outline of her cutaway, she gave the hull a poke with the saw. A ragged oval fell inward. A cloud of sediment and debris shot up, and Tikaya winced. She should have grabbed the cutout with the claw, not pushed it in.
Something dark shot out, bumping into her porthole. She stumbled back, fearing some new attack, but it was only one of those misshapen fish. It righted itself and flitted away.
Tikaya found the directional controls for the lamp, and angled the light into the hole. Rias had guessed right; it was a cabin, though she had no way to tell if it had belonged to the captain. It did seem to be on the larger side, though she couldn’t see from wall to wall. She wished they could get closer, but with that booby trap waiting to fall, they dared not bump the craft.
A few dark humps were all that remained of the cabin’s furnishings. Mollusks or other creatures that ate wood must have devoured them over time. Her hopes of finding anything useful faded.
“What’s the hull made from?” Tikaya called. Now that she’d seen the lack of furnishings, she was surprised the outer shell of the ship remained intact. Perhaps the paint or whatever varnish they’d used back then had protected it.
“Teak was abundant in Nuria,” Rias responded. “That’d be my guess. Is there anything left in the cabin?”
Tikaya extended the claw tool to its maximum reach and probed around at deck level on either side of the hole. Since she couldn’t change her position to see more of the interior, blind groping was the best she could manage. The claw did bump against things on either side. She fumbled about, trying to find a grip so she could drag one of the items into view. Though Rias had failed to adorn the science station with a clock, Tikaya was aware of the seconds ticking past.
When she succeeded in hooking something, she pulled it out carefully. And warily. She thought of the bones in the cave and had visions of dragging out a seven-hundred-year-old skeleton. But, no, there was too much life about down here for that. Something would have eaten the human remains long ago. Not exactly a comforting thought.
Tikaya eased her find into the light and discovered it was… a ceramic wine amphora.
“Wonderful,” she muttered.
She couldn’t work up any archaeological interest in the artifact; she’d seen dozens, if not hundreds, of similar amphoras, so unless ancient secrets were etched on the sides, somewhere beneath the centuries of gathered grime, she doubted they’d found anything useful. She set it down and probed for something else.
Three amphoras later, her groans were loud enough to reach the navigation cabin.
“Problem?” Rias called.
“Unless this colonial captain was an utter lush, I think we’ve opened the wrong cabin.”
“It might be a steward’s cabin. I’ll move us forward.”
As Tikaya retracted the claw, she heard Mee Nar’s snort and utterance of, “If this ship is full of wine, then I’m sure it’s Turgonian.”
“Ceramic just happens to withstand the centuries well,” Tikaya said. “I’m sure there were other things in the room as well.”
“Like kegs of mead?” Mee Nar asked.
“Tikaya,” Rias said, “you were right. I believe my side trip to fetch this Nurian was in error.”
“At least I’m not the one foolish enough to contemplate firing a torpedo at some Maker’s exploding artifact.”
Tikaya sat up straighter. “What?”
“I wasn’t seriously contemplating it,” Rias said.
“I should hope not,” Tikaya said.
“Unless I could modify the torpedoes to shoot at a much greater speed, thus to carry the sphere out of range of the wreck before exploding.”
“Rias?”
“A joke,” he said. “I wouldn’t fire them at this depth anyway.”
Tikaya shook her head. “I’m ready for you to move the submarine forward.”
“Understood,” Rias said, soberness returning to his tone.
The hole she’d opened up slipped from view, and the Freedom stopped ten feet farther along the hull.
“Just so you know,” Rias said, “you’re directly under the sphere now.”
“How lovely.” Tikaya started sawing again. At least if the sphere dropped and exploded, she wouldn’t have time to know what was happening before it was over. “So comforting.”
“They’re right over us,” Mee Nar said. “They must be tracking us. Or the wreck. Or their orb.”
“It
doesn’t really matter which,” Rias said. “Let me know if they start dropping more explosives.”
“If the creator is up there and figures out this one is sitting down here, waiting to be detonated,” Mee Nar said, “then they won’t need to drop more.”
Tikaya pulled out a hole in the hull, this one even more ragged than the first. She slipped the claw inside and fished about, hoping for something more useful than wine. A chest full of journals perhaps, though she admitted a book wouldn’t have likely survived the water, unless it had been sealed in something air-and watertight. She groaned when she pulled out another ceramic container.
“More wine?” Rias asked.
“This might be your mead. Or food. I don’t know.” Whatever it was, she didn’t think it’d be worth grabbing as their one item that they could haul to the surface.
“They’ve dropped a round of spheres,” Mee Nar said.
Tikaya thumped her fist on the console. “Cursed banyan sprites, I don’t have anything.”
“Go in again,” Rias said. “It’ll take a moment for them to fall down here.”
“Not that long of a moment,” Mee Nar said.
“Just let me know when I have thirty seconds.”
“They’re falling fast.”
Tikaya jammed the claw back into the hole, barely remembering not to knock hard against anything—not with one sphere already down there with them. She patted about on the slanted deck, wishing she could feel what the pincers touched, not simply sense that they were bumping against things.
“Now,” Mee Nar said.
“Tikaya?” Rias asked.
She grabbed the closest thing. It scraped and bumped along the deck slowly. Either the claw tool wasn’t working as well, or this was something heavy. Hope arose within her. Then it caught against something. She cursed.
“Tikaya, we need to go,” Rias said, his voice steady but underlain with contained urgency. “Is it safe to pull out?”
“One second…”
Forgotten Ages (The Complete Series) Page 68