Lindsay Buroker - Encrypted

“ He believes that my indoctrinated loyalty to the empire will overrule whatever revulsion I feel for him and those who took everything from me.”

“ They must do a lot of indoctrinating in Turgonian schools.”

Rias sighed. “Oh, they do.”

“ And do you think I should help? You recognized something about those symbols when I showed you the rubbing. What was it?”

He did not answer, though she did not think him recalcitrant. His gaze grew far away, his face grim, as if some painful memories had swallowed him and he had forgotten her.

Maybe archery would loosen his mind and unlock his thoughts for sharing. She shot a few times, leaving arrows quivering around the red dot in the target. A stiffer breeze scraped across the deck today.

Rias stirred and selected his own arrows.

“ Want to make a wager?” Tikaya asked, thinking she might be able to get him to talk more freely about the symbols if he owed her from a lost bet.

His grimness faded and he slanted her a knowing gaze. “I suspect that would be unwise.”

“ Captain Bocrest did it.”

“ Then I’m certain it’s unwise.”

Tikaya grinned. “Maybe I just got a lucky shot.”

“ I doubt it.”

“ Why?” All the marines had been stunned when she hit the target.

He shrugged. “The Kyattese are bow hunters.”

“ Well…” She smiled and twirled an arrow in the air. “If you’re afraid…”

Rias splayed a hand across his chest. “When you were learning our language, did you not also learn that we are a fearless people? I simply don’t want to take advantage of you. I studied ballistics in school, and I can’t imagine such a martial course being taught at your Polytechnic.”

“ And did you also study arrogance in school?” Tikaya nocked her arrow, aimed, and plunked it into the bull’s-eye.

“ Of course.” He winked. “I’m Turgonian.”

She snorted. Arrogance probably was part of their curriculum.

“ I even wrote a paper on the ballistics of archery for merit points,” he said.

“ Less talking, more shooting.”

Eyebrows arched, Rias nocked the first arrow, but he paused as a pair of marines strolled past, one munching the remains of an apple. The man lifted his arm to throw the core overboard, but Rias stopped him.

“ I’ll take that.”

The marine shrugged and tossed it to him. Tikaya had an inkling of Rias’s intent and did not question him as he readied the bow again. He nocked the arrow and held it against the stave with one hand. With the other, he lobbed the apple core so it arced toward the target. In one swift motion, he drew the bow and fired. The arrow pierced the apple and hammered it to the target right next to Tikaya’s bull’s-eye.

“ Hah.” Rias lowered the bow. “After my cocky speech, I feared I’d embarrass myself.”

“ I hope you got a good grade for that paper,” Tikaya said, staring at the impaled apple.

“ Me too.” He grinned at her raised eyebrows. “It was twenty years ago. I don’t remember.”

“ What was it on?”

“ Oh, the usual. Explaining the equations for general ballistic trajectory, horizontal launch, launch velocity, and the like. The fun part was the modeling I did on the different types of bows used throughout imperial history. I analyzed them to show how the design and materials used would define their accuracy, trajectories, distance capabilities, and…” He must have noticed her gaping because he stopped, a sheepish expression on his face. “I’m boring

you, aren’t I?”

“ No!” Tikaya blurted. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be so…” Dear ancestors, he sounded just like her when she started talking about languages, and it struck her as hilarious that he could not remember the grade but recalled all the details of the topic. “Uhm, garrulous,” she finished.

A blush colored his olive skin. “Sorry. I haven’t talked to a woman in two years.” He nocked an arrow. “Shall we shoot a few more?”

“ Sure, tell me more about your paper.”

Rias’s fingers fumbled, and the arrow clattered to the deck. “Really?”

“ Really.” She hid a smile, tickled by his surprise. “The only ballistics experiments I ever partook in involved a wager on who could use a spoon to launch a macadamia nut across the lunch room and into Professor Lehanae’s wig.”

“ Hm, I recall taking part in a similar experiment. Must be a universal education requirement.”

They shot while he explained his paper, and Tikaya relaxed for the first time in days. She almost laughed at her earlier guess that he might have been a captain in the war. With that passion for mathematics and those childhood fancies, he had to be an engineer. Probably the chief engineer on one of the big warships. He would have been accustomed to going toe-to-toe with captains to keep his steamer in pristine operating order.

Only after the exercise period ended, and she was again confined in her cabin, did she realize she still did not know what his history was with those symbols and why they stirred dark memories.

The first earsplitting boom yanked Tikaya from sleep. The second made her scramble out of her bunk so quickly she slammed into the foldout desk. Groaning, she rubbed her hip, took another step, and cracked her toe on the stool.

“ No one should wake up this way,” she muttered.

More booms drowned her words, this time a whole round that lasted half a minute. The ship trembled with concussions that vibrated her body like a bell. Cannons, she realized, as she groped about to find her spectacles and sandals. She had heard them from afar, but never standing in a cabin under the gun deck. Shouts sounded through the aftermath of the round, though the bulkhead muffled the words. She peered out her tiny porthole. Clouds obscured the stars, and night’s darkness smothered the ocean.

Was someone attacking them? Who would be audacious enough to waylay a Turgonian warship? Especially during peacetime? Maybe it was a training exercise. She would not put it past Captain Bocrest to schedule drills in the middle of the night.

A massive jolt rocked the ship, throwing her into the bulkhead. That was no cannon firing. Psi blast. She had a cousin who studied telekinetics and could knock the fronds off a palm tree. Anyone who could damage an ironclad warship was no one she wanted to meet. Still, if this was an attack, maybe she could use the confusion to steal a longboat. She would need to get Rias out of the brig to help. Since he had planned an escape once, he would know where to find the logs and navigation tools they would need.

Shouts rang out and boots pounded, but all the activity seemed to be on the deck above. Tikaya opened the door. Her hopes of escape sank when she spotted her guard standing outside.

The baby-face private noticed her immediately. “Stay inside, ma’am.”

“ What’s going on?”

“ I’m not sure yet, but don’t worry. It’s my duty to protect you.”

Yes, but she did not want him to protect her. She wanted him to go away. Still, his earnest eyes said he took his duty seriously, and she managed a “thank you.” Though they had rarely spoken, she had placed him in Corporal Agarik’s tiny category of People Who Treated Her Like a Human Being.

“ Can we go see what’s happening?” she asked, though she suspected she knew the answer.

“ No, ma’am. Please close the hatch and wait inside.” A cabin door slammed open, and a sub-lieutenant struggling to buckle his belt scrambled out, a drunken lurch to his step. He stumbled off, presumably to join the others, and her guard watched wistfully. He did look back at her and add, “I’ll let you know what the commotion is about when I find out.”

Tikaya shut the door and paced her tiny cabin. Her guard wanted to join the action. Maybe she could nudge him that direction. He was young after all. Maybe-