Decrypted (Encrypted #2) Read online

“Stop!” Mother yelled and rang a bell.

  It might have only been the dinner bell, but it startled everyone to stillness. The Nurian glowered at Rias, but Tikaya was halfway sitting on the man and did not help as he tried to squirm free.

  “Find peace.” Mom crossed her arms over her bosom.

  Rias sat up, the pain apparently removed, though he groaned and closed his eyes as he let his head thump back against the wall.

  “Are you all right?” Tikaya whispered.

  “You’d think a man my age would dislike being shot at and wrestling on the floor, but you know by now that’s not true. Though the… interruption was less pleasant.” Rias opened his eyes and found Tikaya’s gaze. She wondered at the emphasis on the word age, but her more pressing concern was Yosis and his twitchy trigger finger. And perhaps this Nurian as well.

  She shifted to let him up. “Who are you?”

  “That’s Mee Nar,” Elloil said, “our new neighbor. We were out hunting snapping turtles, and I invited him to dinner.”

  “You didn’t say that godless dog Admiral Starcrest would be at dinner,” the Nurian said, chest heaving, his accented words coming in sputters. “He’s killed thousands of my people. He’s worse than the devil-spawned Turgonian emperor himself.”

  Tikaya rubbed her elbow. Dinner was going to be interesting.

  • • •

  The room made Tikaya feel silly. There weren’t any dolls or stuffed animals nestled on the shelves, nor did a pink patchwork blanket cover the bed, but the academic awards and achievement medals peppering the walls created the aura of a student’s domicile rather than that of a professor. She had been too busy moping to redecorate during the year she’d spent home after the war. She blushed at the idea of Rias seeing her silly childhood mementos—or sharing the small bed with her. Not that that would happen with her parents—and Yosis—in the house.

  Tikaya changed out of the stuffy military uniform and into a calf-length calico dress more suitable for the climate. When she folded the Turgonian garb, the pocket crinkled, and she remembered the paper Rias had slipped her outside of the pumping house. She pulled out the folded note and checked the door to make sure it was shut. Rias was with Mother and Yosis, searching for suitable attire, so she had her first moment alone.

  A series of gibberish letters adorned the page. Tikaya grinned. Only Rias would pass her encrypted notes.

  Periods outlined sentences, and the nonsense letter combinations looked like words, albeit longer than average ones. The addition of nulls would account for that. Rias wouldn’t have had time to compose much, so it was probably a simple substitution cipher. It wouldn’t take long to break, though she probably couldn’t do so by dinner, unless he had given her the key.

  She thought back over their day’s conversations. With Yosis watching on, Rias certainly hadn’t said anything obvious. Even writing and passing the note had been a risk, especially if it contained more than terms of endearment.

  His last words after the hallway scramble came to mind. Age. He’d emphasized that, hadn’t he?

  Rias was forty-three. She mentally shifted the Turgonian alphabet forty-three slots to the right and replaced the letters on the note with the new ones. She resisted the urge to get a pencil and leave written evidence of her deciphering.

  Tikaya, the first word said. She’d guessed correctly.

  A knock sounded at the door. Tikaya jumped and stuffed the note into her pocket. Before she could invite the knocker to enter, the door opened.

  “Ho, Coz,” Elloil said.

  He strolled into the room, his hands in his pockets. His straight blond hair hung to his chin and had a tendency to flop into his eyes. He didn’t seem to mind viewing the world through a curtain. Beneath his tan, Elloil had the family freckles and more than his fair share of the family looks, though his oversized yellow and pink floral shirt distracted one from said looks. One of his pockets bulged with a tin that was usually full of materials for making mood-altering concoctions to smoke.

  “Hello, Ell.” Tikaya checked the hallway, half-expecting the new Nurian neighbor to stride in on his heels. The sounds of arguing voices floated up from downstairs. Father had returned.

  “Just wanted to apologize for that little tiff downstairs,” Elloil said. “I didn’t figure on there being Turgonian company already invited for dinner when I extended my own invitation. Who is that bloke?”

  “You didn’t get the message everyone else did about Tikaya’s Turgonian?” she asked.

  “I’ve been busy carving wood the last few days, and this morning the waves were breaking oh-so-fine at Black Cliff Point so naturally I spent the day on my board.”

  “Naturally.” Tikaya waited for him to leave; she wanted to get back to the note.

  Elloil ambled over, lay on the bed, and pillowed his hands behind his head. “Mee Nar thinks he’s some great war criminal, and your father’s hollering about you getting sheet-tangly with the Scourge of… something. I forget.”

  “Did you ever read a newspaper during the war?”

  “Nah, but I guess I should have. This is good stuff. For once I’m not the biggest disappointment in the family.”

  “I’m glad my distressing situation is pleasing you.” Tikaya turned her eyes toward the door, implying that he could go anytime.

  “Your Turgonian seems all right to me though. Gave me a friendly nod and asked where he could get a shirt like mine. And he asked it like he meant it, not like he was being sarcastic and thought I was too dim to catch on—you know, like how most of the family talks to me.”

  “Ah.” Tikaya eyed the horrible shirt again. Maybe Rias thought something like that would make him appear unthreatening. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”

  “And give up my sartorial secrets? Of course not. But I did tell him I’d get him one.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “Yes, I’ll have him looking like a native right soon, though you’d better get him to grow out that short hair a bit. Makes him look military.”

  “Imagine that.” Tikaya held open the door. “I appreciate your help, Elloil.”

  “Aren’t you curious about the new neighbors?” Before Tikaya could answer, he continued on. “Mee Nar decided to settle here after the war, seems to have fallen in love with a native. They bought a little piece of land off the Kaudelkas, and they’re expecting their first baby.” Elloil snapped his fingers. “That’s probably why he’s so upset about a Turgonian nearby. They kill babies, I’ve heard. To demoralize the enemy.”

  “Kill them and eat them, no doubt.” Tikaya leaned against the door, giving up on her cousin taking a hint. She’d have to get him to leave some other way…. “How’s the business going? Sell any surfboards lately?”

  “A couple. I have a few orders for custom paint jobs too. Before long, I won’t need to mooch meals anymore.”

  “You should have Rias look at your board designs,” she said, silently apologizing for sending her cousin Rias’s way. “He’s an engineer. He might have some ideas for improvements.”

  “Oh? A Turgonian engineer.” Elloil sat up, clanking his head on the shelf above the bed. “They say the Turgonians are almost as good at engineering as they are at killing.”

  “I’ve been in one of their ironclads, and it was impressive.”

  “Excellent, excellent. I’ll talk to him.” Elloil slid off the bed and tapped the tin in his pocket. “Join me for a pre-dinner smoke?”

  “No, thank you. I need to finish changing.” She waved at her bare feet.

  “Sure, Tikaya.” Elloil paused in the doorway and put a hand on her shoulder. “Good to have you back safe. You’re one of the few family members who doesn’t look down upon me.”

  Tikaya squirmed under the display of gratitude, given that she had been trying her hardest to get rid of him. “That’s only because you’re one the few family members tall enough to look me level in the eyes,” she said lightly.

  He chuckled and left.

  Tikaya pressed he
r back against the door, yanked Rias’s note from her pocket, and deciphered the rest.

  Tikaya,

  Something untoward is going on, more than animosity for the role I played in the war. Your police chief was initially suspicious of my intentions when he discovered the submarine design, but I can understand that. Such a vessel would make the ideal spy craft. What’s odd is that your high minister walked in, saw the designs, and grew agitated. He covered it quickly, but I read the concern—no, it was fear—in his eyes. When he announced his intention to release me, the police were shocked. Tikaya, animals released into the wild make easier targets for poachers than those kept secure in zoos. I think I’m being set up. I’ll worry about that, but I need you to find out if there’s any other reason a submarine would be cause for alarm here.

  I love you.

  Rias

  Tikaya leaned her head back, feeling the knobbiness of her thick braid against the door. More Turgonian paranoia, or was Rias right? She wanted to dismiss it, to think her people had only the best of intentions, despite questionable means, and were observing Rias out of fear for the safety of the islands, but it was hard to dismiss his suspicions. She wagered a lot of his hunches had proved right over the years. Surely one didn’t become the empire’s youngest admiral and highest-ranking naval officer by guessing wrong often.

  She penned a quick, “I’ll check into it,” using his key, then grabbed a pair of sandals. As she tightened the straps, the dinner bell rang.

  CHAPTER 5

  “No, no, no, no!” Grandpa said from the front door, pointing at Rias. Though nearly eighty, the wiry old grump stood with his chest stuck out, his legs spread, and his ropy muscles flexed, as if he intended to charge over and start a fight. “No joratt gorilla is going to sit at my dinner table or sleep in my house, and he sure as spit isn’t going to bone my granddaughter.”

  Tikaya, who was stepping off the last tread on the staircase, froze with her hand on the bannister knob. Two-dozen sets of eyes swiveled toward her, including those of nieces and nephews too young to understand what was going on. Yosis stood behind Rias, a pleased smirk on his lips. Rias wore his hard-to-read face.

  “Father.” Mother had come out of the kitchen in time to hear the tirade. “Please curb your language in front of the children. And Akahe knows I don’t want to hear such words either.” She placed baskets of fried taro chips on the massive split-log table in the dining area at the end of the great hall.

  “Language?” Grandpa roared. “That gorilla is swinging from the ceiling fans, and you’re worried about words?”

  “A man is here for dinner, and he’s not made any trouble so far.” As she spoke, Mother directed youngsters, using gestures, to set plates and silverware. “There’s no reason to yell.”

  Rias stood on the threshold between the two rooms, holding a tray of glasses and utensils for Mother. She’d found him a creamy, V-neck shirt that left his wrists bare. He filled out the shoulders, but the torso hung limply—the shirt had been designed for someone rotund rather than muscular and wasn’t particularly flattering. Perhaps one of Ell’s shirts would be an improvement after all.

  On the opposite side of the great hall, beyond several sofas and chairs full of relatives, Mee Nar stood in a corner with a woman Tikaya didn’t know—his wife presumably. He was as far from Rias as one could be without going outside, and he was watching Rias like the chicken eyeing the fox stalking about outside the coop. He wasn’t the only one. Nobody seemed to care that the “fox” was doing nothing more hostile than helping set the table. Kytaer, Tikaya’s brother, had come in at some point, and now sat on a sofa with his wife and children, toddlers Tikaya had last seen the night of her abduction. She was glad they were well, though currently they were squirming about, hanging off the edge of the sofa. Their mother was insisting they stay seated instead of playing. No doubt, she worried that the visiting Turgonian would eat them if they wandered too close.

  Ky gave Tikaya a relieved smile when he noticed her, but tension edged his eyes.

  With great reluctance, Tikaya left the shelter of the stairway and walked into the room. At the same time Father and Cousin Telanae entered through a back doorway, escorting the pair of workers from the pumping house. Rias’s makeshift bandages had been replaced with real ones, though the men all appeared much haler. Father met Tikaya’s eyes, and his arm lifted, as if to invite her to a hug, but he noticed Rias, and his face hardened and his hand dropped.

  “Are they truly going to tolerate Admiral Starcrest at their dinner table?” the Nurian’s wife asked, whispering to her husband loudly enough for most people in the room to hear. “And are we truly going to dine with him? Do you know how many of your people he’s killed? And how many of our people died because of his commands? How can they consider extending their food and hospitality?”

  “Of course I know,” Mee Nar whispered back through a clenched jaw.

  “Are we extending our food and hospitality?” Kytaer asked Father.

  Grandpa’s eyes nearly bulged out of his face. “No!”

  “Yes,” Mother said as she laid the last of twenty-odd place settings. “He’s Tikaya’s guest. And I’ll remind you all that Tikaya is back, and she’s healthy and well. It wouldn’t hurt you all to let her know you’re happy to see her, and thankful to Akahe that she’s returned safely. I, for one, cannot wait to hear the details of what’s happened. Parkonis’s accounting was terribly brief and a touch confusing.”

  Mother’s speech inspired numerous hangdog expressions. Kytaer and a few of Tikaya’s cousins stood, and started toward her, arms outstretched for hugs as they offered humble apologies. The moment had the makings of being pleasant, but Grandpa’s cranky voice shattered it.

  “Details,” he spat. “His people kidnapped her, used her in devil sprites only know what perverted manner, brainwashed her into sympathizing them, and now he’s here to spy on our islands for that beast of an emperor of his. The war didn’t end the way those joratts wanted, thanks in large part to us—” he thumped his chest as if he’d been out there on the guerrilla ships himself, “—and now they’re here to figure out how to get our island in another way. You’re all blind if you don’t see that, and I’m embarrassed to call you my kin.” He stomped out the door, shutting it with a bang.

  Tikaya looked past her family members, whose greetings and endearments were faltering in the wake of Grandpa’s tirade, and caught Rias’s eye. “Sorry,” she mouthed, apologizing for the fourth or fifth time that day.

  He twitched his fingers as if to say it didn’t bother him in the least. That was hard to believe.

  Behind him, Yosis bent and scribbled something in his notebook. When Mother took the last of the dinner utensils from Rias, he surprised Tikaya by joining Yosis. There were too many people talking in between her and him, so she couldn’t hear what he asked, but Yosis mumbled some response. She wondered if Rias hoped to humanize himself in his watchdog’s eyes. She’d seen him do it before, pick the one person he knew he needed on his side and win his loyalty. She couldn’t see Yosis developing a fondness for him though.

  “Enough dallying about.” Mother gestured to the table. “Isn’t anybody hungry?”

  A flock of people, spearheaded by the children—cousins, nieces, and nephews ranging from three to sixteen in age—descended upon the table. Mother recruited a couple of the older girls to help her carry platters out from the kitchen.

  Tikaya received a few hugs and back pats on the way, though Grandpa’s words had draped a pall over the house. Even her closest kin peered into her eyes, as if to search for the mind that they were sure had gone missing. Her brother stopped her before she reached the dining area.

  “Good to see you, ’Kaya, but this isn’t how I imagined you returning home. When I told you Mother was planning to give you a lecture on settling down with a new fellow and making babies, I didn’t think you’d do something drastic, like arranging to have yourself kidnapped to find a man.”

  Tikaya knew h
e was trying to make her feel better by making jokes, but his grin seemed forced, and his attempt at humor earned a scowl from Father as he strode past.

  “It proved a more effective way to meet men than moping by myself in the cane fields,” Tikaya said.

  “Anything would be more effective than that. Tikaya…” Ky lowered his voice and eased her to the side, putting his back to Rias and blocking her view of him. “Is he… Did he coerce you into bringing him here for some reason?”

  “No.” Tikaya fought down a grimace. She might as well get used to the question, as variations of it seemed to be on everyone’s minds. “I coerced him into coming. Which, given the reception he’s receiving, was probably a mistake.”

  Ky blinked slowly a few times. “Oh. But… he’s… He’ll never be welcome here. Everyone on the island lost someone during the war or had a loved one return maimed. Or tortured. Or neglected for months in their prisoner-of-war camps. The Turgonians are monsters, Tikaya. They don’t respect humanity the way we do.”

  “They’re not monsters; they’re people, the same as us. From a different culture with different values, yes, but the world is full of differences. It’d be a tedious place to live in if that weren’t the case. I know it’ll be hard for him to find acceptance here, and we’re not planning on staying long. I just had to come home and let everyone know I was all right.”

  “Not planning on staying? But what about your dream of researching at the Polytechnic and having children and raising them near the beach and all that?”

  Tikaya had already reconciled herself to the idea that in choosing Rias she was ensuring that vision wouldn’t come to pass, but the reminder did stir a pang of regret in her. Still, she lifted her chin and said, “Some people are worth changing one’s dreams for.”

  Ky stared at her. “Not him. He’s—”

  “A good man. Yes, he was on the other side during the war, but that doesn’t make him a monster. Talk to him. You’ll see.”

  Ky looked like he’d swallowed something bitter. “What about… Oh, what about Parkonis?” he asked, eyes lighting as if he’d experienced an epiphany on how to turn the argument in his favor.