“On Great Island Two the Transit Station only has two archways. The incoming archway is red but the outgoing archway is no longer preset. It is now transparent, you can’t see it; all you will see is the stone wall. Without a staff with the right metal beads, nothing would happen. They expect you to use the staff coding for eight gold beads as posted, the default for individuals, and using that coding will take you back to Northcentral. But, if you use a different staff coding, that same archway will take you to a yellow dome where you can use the pillar in the center of the dome to bring you back to this planet. The coding I set it for was iron, gold, iron, gold, iron, gold, iron, and gold. Easy to remember, and to change to in the dark. Use my staff for the archway, the others won’t work for this journey. Don’t forget to change my staff back to the eight gold beads afterwards.”
“Frank,” asked Amy, “did you work out the values of their coins?”
“One of the merchants told me about the money,” Frank was enjoying the chance to be the expert, and pulled out his pad, “and there are 14 different coins officially, but only six are in common use. The kad, like our dollar or euro, is valued as one local hour of unskilled labor being worth one kad-kad, or eight kad. Allowing for their hour being one and half times as long as ours, a kad is worth about a $1.36 US, or just a fraction under one euro.” Frank was on a roll, and Amy and Paul exchanged a smile. “The only difference between the coins is their diameter; all are about 2 millimeters thick, er, about a sixteenth of an inch Amy, so I measured the diameter of those we had, and estimated for others. Each coin diameter increases exactly the same amount for each step up in value, just over three millimeters. The common use coins are the it-rak, the smallest at one sixty-fourth of a kad and it’s worth about two cents, the it-ab, one eighth of a kad and worth about seventeen cents, the kad at $1.36, the kad-kad at $10.88, the it-kad at $87.00, and the ro-kad at $696.00, that’s five hundred and eleven euros.”
Amy couldn’t resist asking, “What’s the largest coin worth?”
Frank was beaming now, “It’s the rak-kad. No one has ever seen one, but it will be the largest coin, about two inches in diameter, 5 centimeters for me and Paul, and I should make you guess but you won’t get it.” Frank paused to keep them in suspense. “Each rak-kad is worth two point eight five million dollars, or two point one million euros.”
Amy gasped, “No!” She held up her thumb and second fingers to make a two inch disk. “A coin this size is worth over two million dollars?!”
Frank laughed, “Yeah. I checked my calculation a dozen times. It’s hard to believe. From the kad up, each coin is worth eighth times the previous coin, the value increases exponentially!” Frank was excited and showed them his spreadsheet in his pad.
Paul asked the question that was rattling around Amy’s head, “Why make a coin worth over two million euros?”
Frank nodded, “Yes, why? We don’t know enough about trade between cities and planets to be sure. But I’m guessing that there were no checks, no electronic banking, and no way to bank large amounts of coin. No one here has ever heard of the concept of a bank; they bury their coins on their property or in the jungle. Simon told us that if you have too much coin to carry you can buy a certificate from a Wayfarer at the desk of a hostel, certified by a staff – whatever that means – and cash it in at the other end. Simon said the charge for the service was one half of one sixty-fourth of the amount. But today that only works on Quenlac Three, where there are Wayfarers. Even with certificates the Wayfarers would still need to hold onto the coins. There’s too much we don’t know about commerce out here!”
“Amen to that!” said Amy as she stood up and put her backpack on. Frank quickly packed his pad, and they headed to the Transit Station. A few of the villagers waved goodbye as they crossed the square.
They’d decided together that Frank would be the one to investigate commerce in the Isolated Planets, thereby making him their Treasurer, and he would be the one to put three it-rak coins in the basket at each Transit Station. Tapping the side of the archway made it a lot safer; they weren’t worried about cutting off someone’s heel! Everything didn’t seem as strange this time. In Northcity they glimpsed a large square but as it was early, before dawn, there was nothing happening.
The next archway took them to Northcentral. It was mid-morning and the square outside the building entrances was busy with people moving about. Many merchants were set up under sun shades, trading their goods. Paul noticed one of the guards being curious about them, so they couldn’t linger. They moved quickly to the archway that would take them to Great Island Two.
On arriving on Great Island Two, Amy saw that both side walls as well as the front were open to a beach area. The sun was shining in a clear blue sky, and a gentle breeze would keep them cool. With palm trees and white sand it was... “Perfect!” Amy sighed.
“We have two extra hours,” suggested Frank.
Paul was more cautious, “Agreed, but test the iron gold code first.”
Amy changed the metal beads in Simon’s staff to the code. She pushed it into the wall, and it disappeared. “It's OK.”
Paul wasn't satisfied. “We don’t know if it's outgoing only, or if it goes to the yellow dome.”
Frank had the answer. “I'll put my camera on a tripod, reach through and take a picture. I think you can pull it back.”
Amy pushed her staff in the archway again. Frank pushed the camera through twice, once to see what was there. A yellow dome. Then again to see the color of this archway from the other side. Yellow. They could come back here if necessary. Paul was satisfied, after one more condition. “We walk through the palms, on the fallen leaves, so we don't leave tracks.”
They walked through the palms and past the first set of rocks so they were out of sight of anyone arriving at the Transit Station. From beneath the palms they could see that this was a small island, and there were some small boats and fishing nets stacked on the highest point of the island. Amy enjoyed the break, lazing on the white sandy beach under the hot sun, and swimming in the surf with Paul and Frank. It was the only time she got to wear her bikini.
The two hours were over fast. They packed up and headed back to the Transit Station.
Paul stopped them outside the Transit Station, pointing at the ground. “New tracks! Sandals. Someone was here!”
Amy said, “You were right about hiding our tracks.”
Frank asked, “Were they after us?”
“No idea,” Paul offered. “They could be just checking us out because we're dressed differently, or they spotted Simon's staff. Let's go before they come back.”
The yellow dome was empty except for a piece of wood in front of each archway, including one at their feet. Amy picked it up. It was from a small log, split in half, and on it was Galactic writing done with a small brush and ink, except the writing didn’t make any sense. “Frank, what do you make of this?”
“It’s in code like Simon’s journals, but the last two symbols are likely code for the staff beads to be used. This archway used iron and gold, and there’s two symbols used. It might be a simple substitution code, one letter for iron, one letter for gold. If the writing on the other pieces of wood is like this, we might be able to decode the metal beads required for each one.”
That sent them off around the dome. Frank took a picture of each piece of wood. Each of the archways showed the same yellow-orange color. By the end, Frank was sure that he could decode the metal beads. “It will need a few experiments, but we can decode this. It might help decode the journals.”
Paul looked at his watch. “Later Frank, we don’t have time now.”
Frank looked disappointed, but nodded in agreement.
Amy changed the beads in Simon’s staff back to all gold and they used the pillar to go to Simon’s planet. They spent a few minutes looking for sapphires, finding eleven on the surface of the sandy soil. Next time they would have to dig, and would buy a shovel the next time they were in San Crecerl
an.
Reluctantly they used the pillar to go back to Earth; this was the end of their travels for now. The timing was perfect and they arrived in San Crecerlan in time to take the bus to the airport. They were a few hours early, and by consensus they all headed for the airport restaurant, for Earth style burger and fries for Amy and Frank, and pasta for Paul.
Amy had enjoyed travelling to the planets they’d seen, but now it was over. Parting wasn't easy; it meant the waiting was beginning again. None of them saw any of the watchers, at the ruins, in San Crecerlan, or at the airport.
Chapter 19 – Watchers
Amy delivered the new sapphires to her Dad. He seemed worried and distracted, and it was more than just that she would not say where the sapphires came from. Just before she left her Dad asked again, “When are you going to tell me what's going on?”
“Not yet, Dad. I have a promise to keep, but I’ll be able to tell you later.”
“You’re sure this is safe?”
“It’s more dangerous than I thought,” Amy admitted hesitantly. She saw her Dad flinch. “But after the ‘incident’, you taught me how to defend myself.” She watched her Dad’s face go white. She rarely mentioned the incident to her Dad or Mom, and they never brought it up. Sometimes she thought that she was the only one who’d learned to deal with it, but then, here she was referring to that horrible day as the ‘incident’. “Dad, it’s OK.” Amy added, with a smile, “I’m being careful. I’m being as paranoid as you taught me to be.”
“Ah, but are you paranoid enough?” Amy’s Dad replied, and they exchanged smiles. This was their private joke and helped to break the tension. He added, “Just be careful out there, OK!”
“I’ll be careful Dad, I promise.” Amy gave her Dad a hug and headed out to her car to do a few other errands before heading home. Her Dad was watching out of the office window as she drove away and she gave him a wave.
As she drove Amy thought about being paranoid enough. About arrows and swords, and about how ineffective Simon’s staff would be against them. Thinking about swords made her think about Sandspour again, and Amy was so startled by that memory that she needed to pull over. They hadn’t seen Sandspour after the first day, and somehow his existence had disappeared from her mind. Amy couldn’t remember even mentioning Sandspour after that first day, and she was sure that no one else had mentioned him, not even Paul or Frank. Why had that happened? She’d puzzle that out later. Right now she needed to think about what they'd been told about defending themselves.
Paul had taken time every day to learn how to fight with the staff, and had said that he would get more training back here on Earth, with the intent of training Amy and Frank once he learned the technique. But why should she fight with a staff? She, Amy Elizabeth La Reine, was an expert shot and had the trophies to prove it! It made no sense to try to learn to fight with a staff when she already owned a competition pistol. Amy checked her watch, she had time; maybe she should practice this afternoon. Her pistol was still at the gun club. Yes, her membership card was still in the glove compartment. She’d fit that in, and if Stef was there, get some advice on the best sidearm for traveling. Her competition pistol was too finicky to work in the rain, a sandstorm, or the cold. How would they get sidearms through Mexico?
She’d talk to Paul and Frank later, and see if she could get them to agree. Paul was the problem as he wanted to blend in and look like the Isolated Planets inhabitants, but she also didn’t know how Frank would react. She would just have to be persuasive.
Amy watched a cop give a young man parked in front of her a ticket. The driver looked familiar; Amy was sure she’d seen him around the university. From behind her came some shouting from a driveway; a black car with tinted windows had driven into the driveway as she pulled over. There had been a black car like this one behind her sometimes when she drove down from the university. Amy wondered, for a few seconds, if they had been following her. Not likely, she thought; just my imagination working overtime.
* * *
Sammy smiled; he’d watched the whole thing from the helicopter.
He didn’t know why Amy suddenly pulled over to the curb, but the result was hysterical. The unknown group was just two cars behind Amy, and had passed her and then pulled over. They were now arguing with a cop who was giving them a ticket for stopping in front of a fire hydrant. The people from The Organization had darted into a private driveway to avoid being seen, nearly colliding head-on with someone driving out. Sammy didn’t know what explanation was being given, but from all the arm waving, it was clearly getting complicated. The pilot was enjoying the show as well.
“Let’s get back on Miss La Reine’s car. Mr. La Reine didn’t provide this nice expensive helicopter so we could lose her.”
“Yes Boss!” Sammy could hear the pilot chuckling through the headset. “That was a real circus!”
“It was, but both groups should be changing cars and people now know that Amy might have seen them. Keep your eyes open.”
* * *
Ex-Sergeant Stephanie Caldwell, Stef to her friends, watched Amy practice. Amy’s shooting was off, not good enough for national competition today. Lack of practice? Stef smiled to herself. On Amy’s worst day she was a better shot than anyone else in the club, including her! The club had a number of Amy’s youth trophies on display, and the members were proud of their protégé. Amy had given up competition shooting when she’d gone to university, but occasionally came back to practice.
Stef had only coached Amy for her last year of competition, but they’d become friends, in spite of the age difference. Amy was the same age as Stef’s kids. Amy finished her clip, and Stef took the chance to interrupt her. “Amy, reload, and I’m going to run up five silhouettes. Try for both a chest shot and a head shot, in pairs.” She pressed the button that would bring out the silhouettes. Amy already had a new magazine in the Glock.
Crack, crack. Crack, crack. Crack, crack. Crack, crack. Crack, crack. Ten in 5 seconds. Amy’s shots were near the center of the head and the heart of each target. Not as accurate as with her competition pistol, but some practice would soon fix that. Amy ejected the clip and the bullet in the chamber, before passing the Glock back to Stef.
Stef liked the Glock, the sidearm she owned. Amy’s wrists were strong enough to keep the heavier gun under control, and it had stopping power. Any of the shots Amy had put in the silhouettes would have stopped an assailant dead. Amy had asked for advice on the best handgun to carry when traveling. She wouldn’t say why, embarrassed to refuse a coach and friend, but Stef knew that Amy had been travelling to Mexico, which was still dangerous in some areas.
“You’re sure you won’t tell me why?”
Amy was embarrassed, “Sorry Stef, I promised! Maybe after I return.”
Stef knew Amy could be stubborn, and was willing to let it slide, “No matter, people have a right to protect themselves, and they don’t have to justify it! We’re friends, I’ll stop asking. Come have a coke and we’ll talk about how best to carry a sidearm, and how to make sure it works when you need it. If you’re thinking of taking it to Mexico – I have to warn you that you can’t, you go straight to jail if you do, guilty until proven innocent – only the military and police can carry guns in Mexico.”
After the visit with Stef, Amy returned home to say bye to her Mom before heading back up to Duke. There was also a phone call to make, “Hi Sue, this is Amy.”
“Well girlfriend, how was your trip?”
“Really good, but I have a problem?” Amy and Sue had been close friends, almost inseparable in junior high, until in high school Sue’s Dad was transferred to California. Amy was invited to be a bridesmaid at Sue’s wedding, but now she was going to be away for all the dress fittings and rehearsals.
“Problem?” Sue prompted.
“I have to be in Mexico again, just before your wedding, so I can’t be a bridesmaid.”
“Nooo! I really wanted you there! Ben wants you there.”
/> “I know! I’m really sorry.” Amy was sorry not to be a part of Sue and Ben’s wedding, and not just to miss being part of the ceremony. As an army brat she didn’t have many childhood friends that she was still in touch with, and this might have been her only chance to be a bridesmaid.
“But you’re still coming to the wedding?” Sue sounded a little panicked.
“Oh yes, I’ll be there! Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Thank goodness!” Sue sounded genuinely relieved.
On that positive note the call moved on to Sue’s plans for the wedding and the guests that had confirmed that they were coming. One important guest wouldn’t be coming, Ben’s Uncle Badge, who was now the President of the United States, as he was out of the country on the wedding date. Sue told Amy she wasn’t sure if she was sad or happy about that, with the prestige of having a President as a guest at her wedding vs. fighting with all the changes that the Secret Service were requesting, including changing the reception location.
* * *
Paul waited cross-legged on a mat in the garden. He’d asked for the appointment as soon as he was back. Master Rees had a martial arts school outside the city. He was acknowledged as the top expert in Italy on fighting with a staff, although they didn’t call it that. While he waited, Paul rehearsed his request.
Paul jumped when he realized that Master Rees was sitting on the mat directly across from him. He was dressed in something like a karate uniform. Paul hadn’t heard a thing.
“Welcome Paul,” Master Rees declared, “please make your request.” The Master’s name was Gwyn Stewart Rees, reflecting his Welsh origins. He was not a tall man, only five feet high, but his ancestry had given him a thick torso and strong muscled arms. Not the typical image of a martial arts master.
“Master Rees, I have two friends. One of them, Amy, has been given a staff by a priest and was asked to deliver the staff back to his home this summer. All three of us will carry staffs on this journey, and although we are going to be armed, we want an option to shooting people, to use those staffs to defend ourselves without the violence of sidearms. I wish to learn the art of stick fighting with a jo.”