Pulling the lollipop from his mouth, he looked at me. “This is really good. What is this, raspberry?”
I nodded. “The sketches?”
“Oh, yes. I left my portfolio in here yesterday.” It sat propped against the wall. He opened it and handed me a stack of wax paper. “Be careful. Those are originals.”
Propping myself up against the wall, I laid the stack beside me and took my ultra-thin, extremely cool, portable wand scanner from my laptop case. Page by page I input the images into my program while Quirk stood with his back to me, sketching parts of the room he hadn’t gotten to yet.
We worked for hours, stopping only once to change batteries in the lanterns and eat meat jerky he’d brought. I didn’t ask what kind of meat. I didn’t want to know.
By my estimation, he’d managed to sketch half the room in the week he’d been here. Which meant it would take him another whole week to sketch the rest, right in time with the length of the mission. Hopefully, my program wouldn’t need all the glyphs to decode the message.
A few hours later, he put his portfolio back together. “I need fresh air and real food. And it’s going to be dark soon. I don’t want to go back through the jungle at nighttime.” Quirk came over and sat down beside me. “What’s your program got so far?”
After a few clicks, I studied the screen . . . and my whole body sank. “Nothing.”
“It’s okay.” Quirk shrugged. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“Maybe.”
We extinguished the lanterns, crawled back through the tunnel entrance, and traversed the swinging bridge. As we made our way through the jungle, we ran into Jonathan.
“I tried to get over to the cave,” Jonathan began, “but Guillermo and I had to go into town for an emergency conference call with the IPNC and our top guy at the Specialists.”
By “top guy” I knew he meant TL, but because of Quirk, Jonathan didn’t say his name.
“Intel told us weeks ago that two chiefs were planning to steal the vase. Last night another message was intercepted.
Unfortunately, we still don’t have the identity of the chiefs, but the message indicated a hit man has been hired. For whom, we’re unsure.”
“Hit man?” I asked. “You mean someone from one of the tribes?”
“Yes. For all we know, he or she could be part of the talks, a Huworo native . . . no telling. But all the chiefs know you’re in the cave decoding the glyphs for a key piece of information about the vase, presumably its rightful owner. We do not believe one of our team members is in immediate danger, but watch each other’s backs.”
Quirk and I nodded our understanding.
“And do your best to decipher the code as soon as possible.”
I didn’t think now was a good time to tell Jonathan my program had given me nothing today.
“How’s your program doing?” he asked.
“So far so good,” I sort of lied.
“Do you have anything yet?”
“Hopefully, by tomorrow.” I dodged a direct answer to his question, not wanting to admit I had doubts,
serious
doubts, that my software would come through. I glanced down at the pouch he wore. “Can we see the vase?”
Carefully he removed the leather pouch from his body and handed it to me. I undid the tied strap and pulled out the vase wrapped heavily in thick layers of protective cloth. One by one I unfolded the layers, and as I got closer and closer to revealing the artifact, it occurred to me I probably shouldn’t be doing this. I might break it. And then where would that leave everything?
GiGi ruins history.
I handed the wad back to Jonathan. “You do it. I don’t trust myself.”
With big, confident fingers, he unfolded the wrapping and held it out for us to see. Quirk and I both moved closer, neither one of us touching it. Usually things appeared different in person, but to my surprise, the vase looked just like it had up on the screen back at the ranch.
I glanced up at Jonathan. “Aren’t you worried you might break it or lose it or someone might steal it?”
He arched an incredulous brow, as if that was the silliest thing to worry about.
Okay, it probably was for someone like Jonathan or TL. But me? It was definitely something to worry about. I couldn’t imagine being given this priceless artifact to guard.
Jonathan wrapped it back up. “Let’s call it a day. I want to touch base with Flint,” he said, using Parrot’s alias.
We followed Jonathan back to the Huworo village.
Quirk walked toward the single-men hut, and, when he was out of hearing range, Jonathan turned to me. “When I was in town, I told TL about what happened back in the airport security shack yesterday. He wants you to get that drawing of that woman to Chapling as soon as possible.”
“Sure. No problem.”
“And”—Jonathan cleared his throat—“I have a message for you from David.”
My stomach swirled. “David?”
“He was on the conference call earlier. He said he tried texting you, but it didn’t go through.”
Huh. I checked my cell and saw I had no signal. Even with our new satellite chips, the jungle still made it difficult. I looked up at Jonathan in expectation of David’s message.
He managed to look a bit embarrassed. “David says hi.”
I waited for the rest of the message, but Jonathan said nothing. “Hi?” I asked. “That’s it?”
Jonathan gave a terse nod. “I told him I was not a telegram service and to limit his message to one word.”
I narrowed my eyes. “How generous of you.”
With another nod, Jonathan headed off in the opposite direction. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to head over to the talks. Remember the drawing. Try to find a signal for your computer so you can send the scan to Chapling.”
“Yeah. No problem,” I said, preoccupied.
Hi.
One word. David was on the other side of the world and yet he still, in one word, managed to make me feel like he was right here.
With a sigh, I took my laptop and cell phone in the hopes of finding a nearby signal. Someplace high up. I looked up into the thick foliage and turned a slow circle. Maybe I could climb a tree?
“What are you doing?” Quirk asked.
I jumped. “I thought you went back to your hut.”
He smiled. “I did. But I wanted to go for a walk. Need to clear my head of all those cave drawings. So what are you doing? Looking for monkeys?”
“Ha-ha.” I held up my laptop. “I need a signal.”
Quirk nodded. “I know the perfect place.” He started walking, and I followed. We went across the village and past the corral and then came to a stop. He pointed up. “Watchtower.”
I craned my neck all the way back and sure enough at the top of a very
tall
tree sat a watchtower. I squinted my eyes and made out a man, presumably the watch person. I swallowed. “That’s really far up.”
Quirk shrugged. “You said you wanted a signal.”
“What are you two doing?” Jonathan asked, coming up behind us.
Quirk pointed up. “She said she needed a signal.”
Jonathan looked up and whistled. “That should do it.” He motioned toward the ceremonial hut. “However, I think you should come with me to the talks instead. It’ll be interesting for you to witness your teammate in action.”
I held up my laptop. “Do the other thing later then?”
Jonathan nodded.
“I didn’t realize I was allowed in the talks. I thought only natives could attend.”
“Only the chiefs and the translators are allowed to speak. Anyone else can witness it.” Jonathan started walking slowly toward the big circular structure, and Quirk and I stepped in line beside him.
“How are the talks going?” I asked.
“Every chief has valid documentation to prove the Mother Nature vase belonged to his tribe at one time in history. None of the chiefs is willing to give up his rights to the artifact.” Jonathan shook his head. “It’s wearing Flint out.”
I sighed. “I hate hearing that.”
Jonathan stopped at the entrance to the ceremonial hut. “They are very interested in finding out what those glyphs say exactly.”
“We’re trying our best,” Quirk commented, motioning to the opening in the hut. “Shall we?”
Jonathan and I followed Quirk inside. Like breakfast this morning, everyone sat in designated areas, depending on their gender and age. Parrot, however, sat right dead center with the chiefs. The personal translators sat behind them.
Jonathan took his spot beside Guillermo, and I found an empty straw mat beside Jaaci along the back wall. She smiled at me as I situated myself beside her. I located Talon among the chiefs. He sat directly across the U shape from Parrot, right in Parrot’s line of sight. And although Talon’s back was to me, it appeared as if he was staring straight at Parrot.
I switched my gaze to Parrot and found him looking everywhere
but
in Talon’s direction.
A chief wearing a nose ring lifted an old parchment rolled and secured with a black leather strap.
“Lu ymbarsiqr misysac va gyc sga tyra em ioq nirrarreim em dedsaam svamsu sgqaa . . .”
He continued in his native tongue, and my brain went numb trying to keep up. A minute later the chief finished, and everyone turned their attention to Parrot.
Parrot took a second or two, probably trying to translate what was said in his own brain, and then spoke, “My ancestors noted that we had the vase in our possession in fifteen twenty-three. Mother Nature relieved the great drought of that year. We had the best crops ever. And then the Bidum warriors raided our village and stole the vase.”
The chiefs’ personal translators leaned forward and whispered into their ears, converting Parrot’s English into their chief’s language.
“Xjisit auys qsuug na qiuqmf seofif auys wommehf?”
shouted a chief with black dots tattooed over his face, chest, and arms.
Everyone turned to Parrot. He took a second . . . “Where’s your proof that my people raided your village?”
The translators simultaneously whispered into their chiefs’ ears.
“Sgys tyra qefgsdokka zakimfr . . .”
The chief with the nose ring spoke again.
Everyone turned to Parrot. He took a second . . . “That vase rightfully belongs to my people. Stealing it doesn’t legally make it yours.”
The translators simultaneously whispered into their chiefs’ ears.
“Oyq,”
a chief wearing a colorful robe grunted.
“Xir xycepy oeip . . .”