“You serious?”
“It turns out that the head of the department before her was the guy who originally translated it. The scrolls were in one of the museums at Campbell. I got a private showing.”
“Was it cool?”
“No, it was very boring-looking. And I wasn’t allowed to touch it or anything. Still, it made an impression on me. I connected the dots between my school textbooks and what my aunt was doing in real life.”
“Yeah, I can see how that might make an impression.”
We rode in silence for a while, while I thought about everything. Maybe it was worth it to talk to Kira’s aunt. If someone out there knew more about the manuscript than the Mayir, it was possible that I could find a clue to where the Sean bot ended up—not to mention Chiraine, Ana-Zhi, and Narcissa.
Our camp site for the night was in a small caldera that provided some protection from the winds which started kicking up and blowing hard as the sun dropped.
We began to set up camp, and Kira explained that we were still a few hours away from the bridge across the Cauldron. That was when we would have to face the Naba-Sa’im.
If all went well, they’d let us pass and it would be relatively smooth sailing to Ganga Kos. This time tomorrow we’d be at the port.
“And if it doesn’t go well?” I asked.
“Our dead bodies will probably be dumped in the chasm. Or eaten. Not sure if the Nabas do that or not.”
“A cheery thought,” TenSix said. “What about me?”
“Oh, you’ll be tossed down the chasm for sure,” Kira said. “The Nabas don’t trust technology.”
Later that night when everything had quieted down and we had retired to our tent for the night, I offered Kira another massage.
“I’m wiped,” she said, as she crawled into her sleeping bag. “Raincheck?”
“You’re not getting sick of me already, are you?” I asked.
“Needy much?” She grinned at me mischievously, but then opened the flap of her sleeping bag. “How about we cuddle?”
“Works for me.” I slid in beside her and she nestled in my arms. Her skin was soft, but cold.
“You’re freezing,” I said.
“I know. You’d think I’d be used to the weather here by now, but I’m not. And it gets super cold at night in the Wastes.”
“I can tell.”
We ended up talking and holding each other until we fell asleep. And as I was drifting off, it struck me that I couldn’t remember ever feeling so comfortable with anyone. Usually, I was either very consciously trying to perform, or I was blasted out of my mind. Or sometimes both. I never just relaxed and was there for the other person. Was I some kind of weirdo? Or did I just have questionable taste in bed partners?
The next morning TenSix again greeted us with cups of moxa.
“Are we ready for our big day?” he asked.
“Ask Kira,” I said.
“I’m ready. As ready as I’ll ever be. You guys need to just keep quiet and let me do the talking.”
“Not a problem for me,” I said. “But we should have a plan in case something goes wrong.”
“All kidding aside, if something goes wrong we are toast. There’s nowhere to run. And even if we were somehow able to escape a couple of dozen Naba-Sa’im—”
“Couple of dozen?”
“Yup. On each side of the bridge. Lined up. Ready. Anyway, even if we could escape, this is the only crossing on the Cauldron. At least as far as I know. We’d have to go around it. And that means a several-hundred-kilometer detour.”
“I vote for not angering the Naba-Sa’im,” TenSix said.
“That’s the idea.”
“But you’ve never had any problem with them in the past, have you?” I asked.
“No. As long as we have the tribute, we should be fine.”
“And what is this tribute? Baubles? Gems? Weapons?” I had noticed a few crates in the sled which didn’t look like samples. They were rough wooden boxes, nailed shut. With just a random-seeming string of letters and numerals stenciled on the top.
“Nutritional supplements,” Kira said.
“What?”
“Methiamiopine, to be exact.”
“Very smart,” TenSix said.
“You know about this?” I asked the little bot.
“Not specifically, but I am guessing that the Naba-Sa’im might be deficient in this methiamiopine compound.”
“That’s exactly right,” Kira said. “Methiamiopine greatly improves fetal oxidative metabolism. Basically increases the survival rate of baby Nabas. Normally they derive it from Haggera, a type of moss that grows out here in the Wastes, but for the last twenty years or so, there has been a scarcity of Haggera. Some people think the die-back started once Ganga Kos was built.”
“Well, that’s very kind of you.”
“It’s the humane thing to do. We bring three years’ worth every time we come, and give them half on the way there and half on the way back.”
“That’s what’s in those crates?”
“Yup. It was my dad’s idea.”
We finished breaking camp and set off towards our rendezvous with the Naba-Sa’im. The morning was cool and cloudy, which was fine with me—even after a cold night. I much preferred a bite in the air to the intense sun we had to deal with yesterday.
I spent the first hour scanning the landscape for any sign of two-meter-tall goat men wielding giant axes, but didn’t see any sign of life other than a few small rodents which dove for their holes as we drove past.
We did get a better look at the mist cloud which hung above the Cauldron. It was immense, stretching as far as I could see to the east and west.
“So beyond that cloud is the chasm?” I asked.
“Beneath it, actually. The river empties into the Cauldron about thirty or forty kilometers east of here.”
“And it makes a cloud this big?”
“Yeah. The winds come in from the southwest and they kind of spread it around.”
As we drew closer to the Cauldron, I could
