Sticking closely behind their impromptu guide, Benson thought he’d seen the rough parts of the Native Quarter. He was wrong.
“It no far.” Sco’Val ducked zer head under a laundry line as they cruised down the alley at a brisk pace. “Another fullhand bluks,” ze said in the common Atlantian mispronunciation of “blocks.” Apparently, “bluks” were a type of semi-precious gemstone used in ceremonial beadwork back in Atlantis, and most of the adults who came over as refugees couldn’t really pick up the subtle difference in pronunciation anyway.
“Benson,” Kexx whispered from behind him, “this place feels like walking through halo trees.”
His truth-digger friend referred to the rings of thick, bramble-like trees that surrounded the villages of the road network across the ocean. Vines packed with explosive seed pods waiting to prey on the clumsy or unwary. Looking around, Benson could appreciate the parallels.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“I don’t understand this forest, Benson.”
“It’s just like G’tel’s halo trees, except instead of seedpods that throw baseballs, they’re people with rocks and knives.”
“That, I can understand.”
“Just don’t forget that the rocks here can come from five stories up. Watch your head.”
Behind his friend, Sakiko and her brooding pet ulik stalked along the street. Benson wasn’t sure which of them looked more menacing.
<You’ve got a spare mag for that cannon in your pack, right?> he sent to Korolev through their private link.
<Three mags. One in the gun, two in reserve. Standard load out.>
<Isn’t that a little overkill for patrol duty?>
Korolev waved an exasperated arm around at their surroundings. <Does it look like overkill?>
Benson’s favorite cornerback had a point. The buildings in this part of the quarter hadn’t exactly been built to code. The adobe structures had benefitted from human construction techniques, internally reinforced with a lattice of woven branches in place of rebar. It had allowed their mudstone formers to grow them well beyond their traditional three-story height, some of the more ambitious engineers pushing them to six and even seven stories. Atlantian stories, which were each at least half a meter taller than comparable human structures to account for the average Atlantian’s taller frame.
But they’d been built slapdash, unplanned. Extra floors were added after the fact to give extra space to growing families living in the same home. They looked like stacked sandcastles, and were only marginally more structurally sound. There had been several collapses already. External bracing had been hastily manufactured and slapped in place by human engineers to stabilize the tallest of the structures, but it still felt like a stroll through a forest in a heavy windstorm while you waited for something to come crashing down on your head.
Benson had grown up around much taller buildings. Hell, the tallest buildings in Avalon module reached six hundred meters, more than halfway to the central axle a kilometer above ground level. No, what was foreign here was the claustrophobia. Buildings in the Ark’s habitat modules were surprisingly well-spaced, considering how many people had packed inside them.
Here in the Quarter, however, the dwellings had not only grown up, but out, until the narrowest alleyways could scarcely accommodate two people abreast. This densest part of the Quarter was a veritable maze of corridors, dead ends, overhangs, and even tunnels carved through the foundations of the buildings themselves. Blind alleys, sunken doorways, and balconies were all potential ambush points for the unwary.
Benson marveled at the complexity of it all even as his paranoia ratcheted up another notch. He could scarcely believe all this had been built in just the last fifteen years, yet there he was, walking smack through the nexus of it all towards God-only-knew what.
<Now that you mention it, no, definitely not overkill.>
<We should call for backup,> Theresa said. <This is only a few blocks away from where Miles and Gallant got jumped two weeks ago.>
<Miles is a rookie and Gallant is a casual racist asshole,> Korolev said. <You can’t walk around calling Atlantian kids ‘Calamari’ in their own neighborhood and not expect to get your head kicked in sooner or later.>
<He’s right about that,> Benson said. <Besides, Pavel has a machine gun, Kexx is a breath away from being a venerated elder, Sakiko brought her own personal woodchipper, and I’m a folk hero, remember?>
Theresa sighed audibly. <Who’s Chief again? Is it me? Because I could swear it’s me.>
<It’s totally you, baby.>
<Good, so listen, coach. A lot of these street kids have taken to running in gangs, half of them are high on bak’ri, and the other half either can’t tell humans apart, or don’t bother making distinctions between rulemen of either species. So heads on a swivel, you testosterone-saturated idiots, OK? Things have gotten weird around here.>
<Yes, dear,> Benson said with a smirk. His wife might act annoyed by their bravado, but there was a reason she’d married a sports legend. Theresa liked her men strong and a touch arrogant. Anyone would need to be to keep up with her, even at fifty. Ahead of them, the alley arrived at a dead end. But instead of stopping or turning around, Sco’Val deftly grabbed a pallet with the adhesive suckers on zer toes, set it aside, and fell through a hole in the street.
“What the fuck?” Benson said aloud before he could catch himself.
Theresa looked at Korolev. “Did you know they had tunnels?”
Korolev shook his head vigorously. “News to me, boss.”
“Get your light in there, Pavel, but take it off your rifle. We don’t need to shove a muzzle in anyone’s face.”
“Not yet, at least,” Korolev muttered.
Benson fell back to have a quiet word with Kexx. “What do you make of this? A Temple of Xis?”
Kexx shook zer head. “I do not believe so. There has to be a divine archway marking the passage between Xis’s womb and the world above. Just a hole in the ground would be very disrespectful. Blasphemous, even.”
“Shit, I’d hoped we were walking into a holy place with its lay-off-with-the-fighting policy.”
“Sorry to disappoint, my friend.”
Benson glanced over at Sakiko, who had been uncharacteristically quiet since they’d exited the tram, but remained as stalwart-looking as ever. “I think your apprentice should stay up here and serve as lookout.”
“The hell I will,” she said flatly.
Kexx cleared zer throat. “That is not language to speak towards an elder.”
“Humans don’t have elders. He’s just old.”
Benson stuffed a finger in her face. “That’s right, I’m old, kiddo. And I’m the kind of crafty that only comes with getting old. You’re not there yet. And if something goes wrong in that hole, I don’t want to have to tell your mother that I couldn’t protect you. It would break her heart, and I can’t stand the thought of seeing her in that kind of pain. So you and your weird dog go stand at the junction over there, scream your lungs out if a mob suddenly appears to ram itself up our backsides, then run like a scalded dux’ah in the other direction. Understood?”
Sakiko spat at the dirt by her feet. “If a wave of native quarter rats come down that hole, a few seconds of warning isn’t going to do you jackshit. You’ll need knives with experience fighting in close quarters. When was the last time you fought Atlantians underground? Because I fought a fullhand of raiders in an abandoned Dweller tunnel last month.”
Kexx put a firm hand on her shoulder, but Sakiko shrugged it off.
“I apologize for my student,” Kexx said sternly.
Benson waved zer off. “It’s fine, Kexx. She’s worried about Benexx. You think ze’s down there, don’t you Sakiko?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re not going to listen to reason, no matter if it comes from your Uncle Bryan or your elder Kexx, are you?”
“No chance.”
“Well then, come along, little one.” Benson extended a hand toward the hole with Theresa and Korolev probing the darkness below with a flashlight. Sakiko walked up to join them. “And bring your hound. We might want its nose.”
“You should not encourage zer rebelliousness, Bryan,” Kexx said in a low voice to avoid being overheard.
Benson snorted. “She’s almost eighteen, Kexx. Human kids don’t need any encouragement to rebel at her age.”
“I’ve noticed.” Kexx sounded tired, exasperated even. “It’s truly amazing how Xis granted zer all the knowledge it took me a lifetime to acquire with none of the experience. An incredible creature, the human teenager.”
“Yeah, well Benexx hasn’t been a peach lately either. Theresa wanted me to talk to you about it, actually. But it can wait. What do you think we’re walking into here? Should we be worried?”
“There is always danger underground.”
“Well that’s reassuring. Did Sakiko really fight off eight raiders in a Dweller tunnel?”
“Ze neglected to mention ze had some help, but yes. That thrice-damned ulik of zers didn’t hurt matters either.”
“I expect not. C’mon, let’s see where this goes.”
The drop to the floor of the tunnel was almost four meters. There was no ladder; Atlantians were such naturally adept climbers they needed none. The quartet of humans trying to reach the bottom were less well equipped. Of them, Sakiko had the most climbing and spelunking experience, not to mention the youngest and most lithe body. She reached the floor in scarcely more time than their guide had taken. Her pet followed quickly after, splaying out its four limbs in a way that would have dislocated the joints of any Earth quadruped.
“Your turn, Pavel,” Benson said. “Show that little spider monkey how it’s done.”
“Oh no, coach.” Korolev patted his rifle. “I have to cover your ingress.”
“Fine, whatever.” Benson turned to his wife. “Ladies first.”
Theresa batted her eyelashes. “You mean you won’t be down there to catch me if I fall?”
“Ugh, fine.” Benson leaned across the mouth of the tunnel and let his feet dangle over the edge before turning around and supporting his weight on his hands. Which was a mistake. Even in a brace, his sprained wrist stabbed at him painfully.
“What do you see down there, Sakiko?”
“Nothing, uncle.”
“You mean there’s nothing to see, or you can’t see anything?”
Sakiko snorted. “Relax, old man. I can see fine. There’s nothing dangerous down here, other than me and Gamera.”
“OK, fine. But if I get a spear up my ass as I’m climbing down, I’m going to be very disappointed.”
“You safe, truth-digger,” Sco’Val shouted back. “Under protection.”
“Didn’t realize I needed protection in my own city,” Benson muttered to himself as his left foot found purchase, but he realized the elder had called him “truth-digger,” not “ruleman.” That was something. The hole was narrow enough that his arms and legs could touch each wall face with relative ease, so Benson sort of chimney climbed down, muscles burning and joints popping the entire way, especially his wrist which was still tender from the bad landing he’d taken after the bombing.
The air at the bottom of the hole was stale, loamy. It had the slightly salty bite of a freshly tilled yulka field. So, no ventilation down here, Benson thought. Atlantians could tolerate significantly lower levels of oxygen than humans could, owing to both their cooler metabolism and to their semi-permeable skin acting like one big passive lung. Human kids learned quickly not to bother getting into breath-holding contests with their Atlantian peers. As long as they were down here, Benson would have to keep an eye out for signs of hypoxia, because if any nasty gasses were leaking in from the soil, or a colony of oxygen-scavenging bacteria had been busy, the humans would be the canaries in this particular coal mine.
However, other than the stale air, the tunnel was indeed clear of obvious threats, which Benson could only confirm thanks to the blue-green light radiating from Sco’Val’s skin, far more than the Atlantian needed in order to see down here with zer excellent low-light vision. Ze’d cranked up zer bioluminescence as high as it would go so Benson could scan the scene for himself. He recognized it for the courtesy it was and nodded his thanks to the elder.
“C’mon down, love. We’re secure.”
Theresa made her way down with only a couple of slips. Before long, Korolev and Kexx joined them.
“OK, Sco’Val…” Benson motioned down the tunnel, “…lead the way.”
Ze turned and walked briskly, skin still shining bright. Atlantians couldn’t beat humans in a flat sprint because of their omnidirectional joints, but the gait granted them by their long limbs made up for it by walking at a pace that forced most people to break into a slow jog to keep up. It quickly became clear that this wasn’t just a lone tunnel leading to a hidden chamber, but an entrance to a network, growing bigger with each branching intersection they turned down and level they climbed into. Benson tried to keep track in his head in case they had to make a quick retreat – left, left, right, down a level, right, left – but it wasn’t long before he lost the thread entirely. He was about to say something to Kexx when he noticed Sakiko making small marks in the packed clay and dirt in between the wooden supports in the walls with each turn.
“What are you doing?” he whispered.
“Dropping yulka.”
“Is that like ‘leaving breadcrumbs’?”
“I guess so.”
“Roger that.”
“Roger who?”
“Nevermind.”
Sakiko scoffed. “Ugh. You’re so ooold.”
“I know. I should really get it looked at.”
She shook her head and moved on. Benson smiled. Apart from the angle of her eyelids, Sakiko was the spitting image of her mother. Mei had been a couple years younger than Sakiko was now when Benson first met her in the derelict basement levels of Shangri-La module, and already several months pregnant with her future daughter.
Mei had been demure back then, out of necessity. Being an underage prostitute for an underground Messiah cult didn’t encourage asserting much individualism. But she was the first to see through David Kimura’s mask, and she was the first to turn on him and sound the alarm, saving what sliver of humanity remained in the process, twice. Once Kimura’s influence had been… forcibly removed, Mei came out of her shell and never looked back. The same defiance shone like a beacon in Sakiko.
“What are you staring at?” Sakiko said nervously. Gamera chirped, echoing zer master’s sudden change in mood.
Benson smiled warmly, as if looking at his own child. “An old friend’s good work. What do you say, kid? Shall we kick over some rocks and see what tries to run away?”
“Works for me.”
The walls of the tunnel changed sharply. Instead of packed clay and wooden staves, the surface transitioned into mudstone, the native analogue to concrete. The surfaces were smooth and level, expertly formed by craftsmen who knew their jobs well. After a few paces, ornate organic patterns emerged, sculpted into the mudstone before it set completely.
“Just like our tour of the Dweller caves before Black Bridge, hmm?” Kexx said from behind his shoulder.
“Don’t jinx it. As I remember, we did a lot of fighting and running and almost dying the rest of that afternoon.”
“Yes, a good day.”
“Maybe when I was still in my thirties,” Benson lamented. “Now, a good day is lying in the hammock on my roof with a bucket of lagers.”
“Maybe tonight, if Xis smiles on our efforts.”
“Maybe,” Benson agreed. He was not a believer, not in any of the triumvirate of Atlantian Gods, or the endless pantheon of deities mankind had dreamed up over the millennia, but he appreciated his friend’s sentiment nonetheless.
Light spilled out into the hallway ahead of them from just around a gentle bend. It didn’t have the warm yellow glow of torchlight, or the bluegreen of Atlantian skinglow. It was sterile white light, artificial.
“They ran LEDs down here?” Korolev asked.
“Certainly looks that way.”
Kexx leaned in. “Not to Jack shit, but–”
“Jinx it, Kexx.”
“Oh,” Kexx pondered. “Who is Jinx?”
“No, it’s… Never mind right now. Not to jinx what?”
“I was just going to say how much these walls look like the entrance to the Dweller’s Temple of Xis’s Womb.”
“Yeah… but you just said it wasn’t a temple.”
“The main entrance was not, but the tunnels are quite a bit more extensive than just a single temple.”
They turned the corner, and déjà vu hit Benson like an unblocked defensive end. The ramp down and the entrance to the chamber didn’t merely resemble the temple from the Dweller caverns they’d visited fifteen years ago, it looked like an exact duplicate, down to the millimeter. All that was missing was the patina and worn edges left by centuries of use. They entered the circular chamber itself, ringed with columns and seats, exactly as he remembered.
“Well, that’s unsettling,” Benson quipped.
“What is, honey?” Theresa asked.
“That looks exactly like the Dweller temple Kexx and I almost got shanked in back before Black Bridge. Like, exactly, except brand new and with LEDs instead of torches.”
“Like the ancestors themselves returned from Xis’s womb to rebuild it,” Kexx added emphatically.
“You don’t think it was, you know, already here?” Korolev asked.
“No,” Sakiko said. “This mudstone is fresh and unstained. Less than ten years.”
“Seven years,” Sco’Val said. “Ze wanted the Dweller Temple copied after hearing about the Bearers who ruled from under the ground. We agreed.”
“Ze who?” Theresa asked.
“Sco’Val speaks about myself.”
As one, they all turned to regard the source of the small, yet firm voice. An Atlantian bearer stood there, hunched over with age and burden, held up by an attendant at each arm, yet somehow standing taller than anyone in the room. Sco’Val fell to zer knees.
“Oh, shit,” Kexx mumbled.
“What?” Benson said. “Who is that?”
“It’s zer, the Bearer with No Name.”
That got Benson’s attention. The Bearer with No Name, the spiritual parent of every last Atlantian in Shambhala. The figurehead for an entire community.
And someone who went missing a decade ago.
“Are you sure, Kexx? No one’s seen zer in ten years.”
Kexx regarded Benson with a pained expression.
“The truth-digger is correct,” ze said. “I have no name. Many have tried to give me one, but I resist. If I have a name, I could speak only for myself. Without one, I am free to speak for all my people.”
Memories came flooding back to the surface of Benson’s mind. A missing person, an underground hideout, a forgotten leader.
Still, Benson had enough experience with this sort of thing to know when to show deference. Lord only knew how he’d survived long enough to learn that lesson. He leaned down, not prostrate on the ground like Sco’Val, but enough to bring his face level with the frail figure before him, signaling that he considered zer an equal. Ze was old for an Atlantian, wrinkled and dulled by the years. The contrasting bands of color on zer skinglow lacked the sharp definition of youth. Permanent spots where the chromatophores had simply forgotten how to constrict had cropped up like broken pixels on a video display.
Ze had been old for a bearer of fertile age when ze’d come to Shambhala asking for asylum. Now, ze was ancient. But no one seemed to have the courage to tell zer.
Benson thought of Devorah, the undead museum curator (or cybernetic, depending on who you asked), saw yet another parallel, and smiled.
“Something amuses you, truth-digger?” the bearer asked pointedly. Benson looked back at Kexx, assuming ze’d done something to raise the bearer elder’s ire, but Kexx only blanched at him.
“I was speaking to you, Ben son.”
Realizing his mistake, Benson’s head snapped back. “I’m sorry, bearer. I’ve just never been called a truth-digger by an Atlantian of your… standing before. I assumed you meant my friend, Kexx.”
“You dig through the dirt and filth of lies to find truth as Kexx does, do you not?”
“That was my job, yes. Long ago. My wi… mate, Theresa, holds that job now.” Benson held a hand out to his wife, who gave a curt bow in reply.
“We cannot stop being who we were, truth-digger. We can only add to it.”
“That is very wise. And I’m sorry, I did not mean to offend you. You just remind me of an old friend.”
“How?”
Benson paused, unsure of how to answer, but fairly certain “You remind me of a tiny, ancient, angry Jewish woman who terrorizes school children and council members equally” was the wrong approach.
“Her strength lies in her wisdom and resilience, not in her physical body.”
“Oh, you mean Devorah,” the bearer said.
Benson flinched. “You know her?”
“Oh yes, very well. Ze’s crazy.”
It was so unexpected, Benson laughed easily for the first time in days. “That she is. And she still won’t stop working.”
“Ze will work for zer people until ze returns, then ze will work for zer people before Xis. Who do you work for today, truth-digger?”
“I…” Benson stammered, caught off guard by the question. He looked at the bearer’s face, into zer eyes. They were clouded over with many years of seeing too much. Ze was almost certainly blind, but Benson couldn’t help but feeling like ze was looking through him like a recently cleaned window.
“I’m supposed to say I’m working for Shambhala, or whatever.”
“But?”
“But I’m here for my child. I’m working for Benexx. Everything else can burn behind me, as long as ze’s safe.”
“You would watch your village fall for one who is not even of your blood?”
The muscles in Benson’s neck flared involuntarily. He grabbed Theresa’s hand and squeezed. “Benexx is our child. We named zer in the proper Atlantian ceremony overseen by Chief Tuko zerself. We’ve raised zer, cared for zer, tucked zer in, taught zer everything we knew, and learned from zer things we never could have known without zer. Blood is irrelevant. We chose our family. Now, can you help me find zer, or are you wasting my time?”
It was the Bearer with No Name’s turn to smile. Ze looked up at one of the attendants who helped steady zer. “I would like to sit, please.” Benson watched quietly as they maneuvered zer into the largest chair and waited until ze was settled and comfortable.
“Let us talk, truth-digger.”
“Let’s.”
“My eyes are not what they once were, but my ears hear farther and clearer than they ever have.”
Benson nodded. “And what have your ears heard in the last few days?”
“Much, but first, we’re going to talk about what they’re going to hear before I help you.”
A pit opened up in Benson’s stomach. “I’m not authorized to negotiate on behalf of the city, bearer. I can promise you the moon if you like, but I can’t deliver it.”
“You are influential among your people, truth-digger. And ours. You, your mate, and your child are powerful symbols across the city. When you talk, all listen.”
“You flatter me, bearer. I just don’t want you to walk away with… inflated expectations.”
“I understand. But we’ve gone through the… what do you call them? ‘Proper canals’?”
“Channels, bearer,” Kexx said.
“Channels, thank you. We have gone through the proper channels for years without success. Time for something different.”
Benson’s jaw tightened. “Is that what the attack at the parade was? Something different?”
“We had nothing to do with that despicable act.”
“Then who did?” Benson snapped. Theresa put a soothing hand on his shoulder.
“Patience, dear. Let zer speak.”
“Your mate is wise, Benson,” the Bearer with No Name said.
“And if ze doesn’t get to the point soon, bite zer head off,” Theresa added.
The bearer’s attendants stiffened, but ze waved them off. “I sometimes wonder how humans manage to keep that fire of youth burning for so long.”
“It’s the hot blood,” Theresa said. “We have a hard time cooling off.”
“Perhaps so.” The bearer adjusted zerself in the chair and smoothed out the scales of zer skirt. “Have you been so deep into our part of the city before, truth-digger?”
“Not this deep, no.” Benson shook his head. “Honestly, we didn’t even know these tunnels existed.”
“Although it does answer how some of the suspects we’ve pursued managed to disappear into thin air,” Korolev added.
Theresa shushed him, but Benson thought it brought up an important point. “My… colleague is right. Have you been harboring criminals down here? Helping them evade the constables?”
“Your constables are one of the things we wish to talk about,” the bearer said.
“Go on.”
“We want our own truth-diggers and warriors walking and working in our part of the village. Your constables, they see rule-breakers everywhere, not children. You humans poison our children with your drugs, then beat and arrest them for being sick with them.”
“We didn’t bring bak’ri here, bearer,” Benson said defensively.
“No, but your science made it into a weapon against us. You cannot even use it. What other reason would you have for doing it?”
“Well in the beginning it was to isolate the active ingredients and see if they could be used in medicine, but the process got out. The people who purify bak’ri into a drug are criminals, and we come down on them even harder.”
“We are veering from the path. Our own truth diggers in our own spaces. Yes or no?”
Benson crossed his arms. “They already are. Theresa has been recruiting and training Atlantian constables as fast as she can. Three of my football players are already walking the beat in their own neighborhoods.”
“As bracelets!” the bearer snapped back. Benson didn’t get the reference, but Kexx was there to lean in his ear.
“Tokens,” Kexx whispered. “Village elders will often wear bracelets made by rivals during trade disputes to ease tensions, but it’s sometimes seen as an empty gesture.”
Benson nodded his thanks, then addressed the bearer once more. “They are not bracelets, they are trusted and valuable members of the force.”
“If they are so trusted, why are there not two fullhands of them in the entire city? And why are none of them leaders? Always following along behind their human master?”
“Honey, maybe you could…?”
“Sure.” Theresa stepped up. “There are so few Atlantians on my force because there are so few of you here that are old enough to serve. You know as well as I do that most of your people here were born after you, personally, arrived. They’re still adolescents. I want more Atlantians on my force, as soon as I can have them. But the adults and elders who are here are busy working, building, and raising the kids.”
“They are busy in the fields, digging water trenches, laying seeds, doing the mindless work of animals or your, your… machines, while human children are taught your magics and sent into the sky.”
Theresa opened her mouth to object, but what could she say, really? The bearer’s words were true. The fact every effort was being made to move up the day that Atlantian children would be given plants and the ability to compete on an even playing field with their human counterparts didn’t change the reality of the situation as it existed in that moment.
“Our children are not taught magic,” Theresa said finally. “Everything they learn, your people can learn. Will learn,” she corrected herself. “We just need more time to build the tools we need to teach you.”
“Because we are too stupid without them?”
Theresa put up her hands defensively. “No, bearer, that’s not it at all. The truth is we’re too stupid to teach you without them. We’ve been using these tools for hundreds of years. We don’t remember how to learn or teach without them. This is our failing, not yours.”
The self-deprecation seemed to do its work as the bearer’s features softened. Ze pointed at zer attendants. “These two will leave with you. You will teach them to be con-staples and send them back here. There will be others.”
If the attendants were surprised or distressed by the development, they kept their emotions well hidden. Not even a ripple of color or light passed over their skin.
“Good,” Theresa said. “The academy takes three Varrs, and they’ll still have to be supervised by one of my human constables.”
“Why?” ze asked sharply.
“Because that is their tradition as much as it is ours,” Kexx stepped in. “Do we not pass our knowledge from master to apprentice?” Ze put a hand on Sakiko’s shoulder. “This is my apprentice, Sakiko. I believe you know zer mother, Mei.” The bearer fluttered an acknowledgement. “Sakiko will eventually replace me as G’tel’s truth-digger. But not until I am satisfied that ze’s ready. I don’t think it’s unreasonable for our human friends to ask the same.”
The bearer was silent for a moment while zer skinglow pulsed in contemplation.
“If they’re anything like my other Atlantian constables, we will learn just as much from them as we teach,” Theresa added diplomatically, but Benson knew it was true.
“We agree,” ze said finally.
“Great!” Benson said, hoping to seal the deal and move on. “Now, about the–”
“Does ze always interrupt like this?” the bearer asked Kexx.
“Not always…” Kexx rubbed zer chin, “…but often.”
Benson flushed, but tried to remain on track. “OK, what else do you need to hear?”
“We need to be given greater priority in building, water, and elek… elekt…”
“I believe you mean electricity, honored bearer,” Kexx said.
“It is so,” ze answered. “Elek-tricity. We are forced to sip from your river with reeds while your houses overflow with it.”
“Nobody’s houses are overflowing with it right now,” Benson said. “Our main supply has been cut off by someone who almost succeeded in destroying the Ark, where most of our… river still flows from.”
“Yes, I’ve been told about your city in the sky, although I’ve never seen it.”
“I have, honored bearer,” Kexx said again. “I was invited, fifteen years ago. I stood in their sky city. It is as miraculous as the stories. Perhaps more. Our friends are very wise.”
“But they just said they are stupid!”
“They can be that, too. Just as we can, no? They know they are not the Gods, and they do not pretend to be, even though they could. That has to mean something.”
The bearer’s skinglow ebbed subtly and reversed direction, drawing its patterns back towards zer chest instead of radiating outward. “One of my early mates worked as a trader between the villages, truth-digger Kexx. Ze was weary of ‘wise’ traders who talked too fast to follow. It was too easy to end up on the losing side of a trade when they knew things you did not. Too easy to get cheated.”
“Are you saying we’re cheating you, bearer?” Benson said, trying to keep his voice from betraying the offense he felt at the accusation.
“This is what I see. I see your El-a-va-tors and shuttles filled with rocks you tell us are valuable going up to your sky city. You tell us you build things up there. Where are they? You take from Xis, but what do you return to Zer? What do you return to Zer people?”
“I thought we were all Xis’s people, honored bearer,” Kexx said sharply.
“Don’t be cold-headed. You know what I meant.”
“I know that you came here because our people were going to kill most of your brood, bearer.” Kexx squared zer shoulders. “I know that these humans took you in without hesitation and spent Varrs shielding you from our own people. I know that you knew they would because of the example my friend set when ze wouldn’t stand by silently during a culling. I was there, honored bearer, in the temple where this human…” Kexx shoved a finger at Benson’s face “…pointed a gun at one of our elders, to defend our children, on the same day ze fought alongside us to protect G’tel against a Dweller attack. After ze defeated a trained warrior with a mere fishing trident. I saw it happen. And I will not stand here today and hear his motives questioned!”
In the fifteen years Benson had known Kexx, he’d never known zer to sound or look so aggressive, not even in the middle of a fight. Ze was too professional, too detached and precise for anger. He’d also never once heard zer use a human gender pronoun.
He wasn’t the only one to notice.
The bearer took a moment to compose zerself before responding. “You believe in these humans so totally, truth-digger?”
“I believe in this human, his mate, and those he calls friend, as surely as I believe in Xis, Cuut, and Varr. They are far from perfect, but they are exactly what they claim to be. I would wager my life on it. I have wagered my life on it.”
Kexx’s punch landed. The conversation took a pause as if a bell had rung to signal the end of the round. Everyone retreated to their respective corners of the ring to regroup for a few heartbeats. Or, however Atlantians ticked off awkward stretches of silence.
The Bearer with No Name resumed, finally. “Atlantians,” ze said with a sigh. “We didn’t have a name for ourselves until you humans arrived and taught us just how different two peoples could be. We claimed your name for us, because it was the first one we heard, like hungry infants at their naming ceremony, starving for knowledge. As you named your child, Benson truth-digger, humans named us.”
“I think I understand, honored bearer,” Benson responded.
“And how well do you think you have cared for your children here?”
“Not well enough,” he said without thinking through his answer. “We can, and should, do better by your people in Shambhala. We’re all one Trident.”
“A trident you held.” The bearer slumped back in zer chair, almost shrinking before his eyes. “My ears have heard enough.” Ze tugged on the skirt of the attendant to zer left. “Show them. Let them see.”
The anonymous attendant fluttered an acknowledgement and they both departed the chamber while the bearer gazed upon zer guests with clouded eyes.
Benson swallowed, hard, then looked over at Sco’Val. He’d forgotten their guide was even in the room for as quiet as ze’d been since making the introductions. He was beginning to suspect the demonstration in the street that he’d disrupted was not so spontaneous as he’d assumed. Had Sco’Val been testing him, scouting out his reaction on behalf of the bearer? If so, he’d obviously passed the audition.
But it didn’t answer the question of what he’d been brought down here to see. His hope of a quick and painless reunion with Benexx was fading. Theresa, feeling the same anxiety, laced her fingers in his and squeezed.
“It’s going to be OK, baby,” he whispered. “We’re getting zer back if I have to dig up the whole city with my bare hands.”
“I know we will, dear.”
Benson drew his wife close and kissed her forehead as she rested her free hand on his chest. The attendants returned, carrying a stretcher between them, a blanket draped over it. For a millisecond, Benson’s body went rigid with terror for what was hidden beneath. But as they set it down and he got a better angle, it was obvious the object wasn’t a body of any kind.
He leaned down and pulled back the blanket. The object definitely wasn’t a body, it was a bomb.
Benson jumped back, so startled he almost tripped over himself. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He put a hand over his now racing heart. “A little warning next time!?”
“Pavel,” Theresa said. “Get back up into plant range and get an explosives tech down here. Fast. You,” she pointed at Sco-Val, “lead him back up to the surface.”
“I know the way out,” Sakiko said eagerly. “I’ll take him back.”
Theresa looked to Kexx, who nodded zer approval. “OK, go. Quickly, and don’t say anything about this to anyone until we get it disarmed, understood?”
Sakiko saluted and grabbed Korolev by the wrist. “C’mon, this way.” The two of them, plus Sakiko’s pet, darted out of the temple.
Benson had already gotten over his initial shock and leaned back in to inspect the device. It was a slick piece of work, boasting several kilograms of the sort of demolitions charges the mines further inland were using. Whoever had built it had a steady hand. The wire leads between the blasting caps and detonator were orderly, the soldering was neat without much excess or drippings. It was the deadly work of an experienced craftsman. If it went off down here, it would liquefy everyone and collapse the chamber.
The explosives packaging had been stripped, which was smart because there were no batch numbers to track, but it wouldn’t be terribly hard to run inventory checks at the sites to see where the stock had gone missing from. Industrial grade explosives like these were chemically complex and resource-intensive to produce. It was very unlikely anyone cooked them up in their kitchen, not without blowing up their city block in the process.
“Where did you get this?” Benson asked the bearer. “And when?”
“It was found inside the main temple of Cuut, not far from here, the day after the attack on the parade. We think it was meant to go off at the same time, but failed. Failed to kill me.”
“You were in the temple when the attack happened?”
The bearer nodded. “I led a ceremony.”
“We have a common enemy.”
“Perhaps.”
“You really should’ve let us move it.”
“We didn’t want anyone disturbing it. What if a child found it and started playing?”
Benson sighed. “There are a hundred ways to set one of these off. Pressure switches, accelerometers. You’re incredibly lucky it didn’t explode the second you picked it up.”
“What my husband is trying to say, honored bearer, is in the future, let us know if you find another one of these. We have people who can disable them safely, so no one is put at risk.”
Benson looked up at his wife. “What do you think, honey? A third prong in the attack?”
“Probably. They already timed the run on the Ark and the parade bomb. But why didn’t it go off?”
“We’ll let the bomber boys figure that out. Right now, we need to get everyone out of these tunnels until it’s dismantled.”
“Agreed.”
“We will not abandon our temple,” the bearer said with finality.
“I don’t mean to be imprudent, bearer,” Kexx said. “But if that bomb explodes down here, we’ll all be turned into soup. This is temporary, our human friends will be done before the evening cleanse.” Kexx turned to Benson. “Right?”
“Er…” Benson checked the time in his plant. Three hours and change until the night’s cleansing ritual. “Sure. Absolutely. You won’t even know we were here.”
The bearer made a grand show of considering this. Finally, ze stood. “I am tired. I will return to my rooms and rest until it’s time for the evening cleanse. My attendants will accompany me. All of them.” Without another word, the undeclared leader of the Atlantians in Shambhala swept out of the temple with a half-dozen lackeys in zer wake.
“Did…” Benson stammered. “Did ze just give us a three-hour window to clean this up?”
“Seriously?” Kexx asked. “Really, my friend, for a detective, you have a strange knack for overlooking the obvious.”
“Don’t get me started,” Theresa added.
Benson looked back down at the deadly device. He’d come down here looking for a clue, a lead, anything that could point him in Benexx’s direction. This was a pretty big one. And even though it failed to go off when its builder intended, Benson was determined to make sure it blew up in their face.