Chapter 11

The anger had his fingers curled into white knuckled fists as he tromped down Shaft Two. Yakhir was spouting every invective and curse he could conjure from his memory while trying to invent more that would capture his rage. More than one archivist heard his railing, scurrying away down convenient tunnel to avoid him. For days, everyone had been waiting for Atto’s wrath to come raining down upon Yakhir’s head. With the morning’s rise, the rains had arrived with the stench of vengeance.

The young archivist had achieved a modicum of control over himself by the time he reached the assigned area of his master. He ducked into the tunnel in search of Jahmiel and found him pronouncing his own curses in Neo-Mandarin. Jahmiel gave him a frown of frustration until he saw Yakhir’s face.

Jahmiel pointed at the contents of the open crate. Both of them had been trying to crack the encryption code to the site, which should have been an easy task with two archivists. The archivist Yakhir had failed. The Master Kevit-Nakar took on the task with some limited success, but the decrypted material was challenging to understand. They continued to wrestle with the data, refusing to abandon it, because the word “Diamond” appeared frequently in the deciphered pages.

“I see the hammer has fallen,” the master called to the archivist. He lifted his datapad from his knees in a gesture of fruitlessness.

“How did you know?” Yakhir asked, puzzled.

“How could I not know? Half of the population, that is to say the half that wasn’t struck dumb by your curses, must have heard you coming down the Shaft. His rotundness must have finally worked out a suitable punishment for his public shaming at the hands of a youngster. Let me guess: painful for you but not so inviolate as to raise the ire of the master archivists.”

“He assigned me to a dump run,” Yakhir sighed.

Jahmiel held up his finger. “The timing is unfortunate, but every archivist is required to do a stint in the field. The punishment could have been much worse. You would have been ordered to ride with a caravan sooner or later, Yakhir. Atto assigning you this task, which you were always obligated to accept, demonstrates how weak he is. Is sending you away for a few weeks the best he can do? Pathetic.”

Yakhir pinched his lips, considering his master’s words. “Yes, I understand, but Adilah will complete her apprenticeship while I am rifling through a garbage dump in the middle of nowhere. For three years we have waited for this moment to declare our betrothal and now, our moment is denied and derailed.”

The master chuckled, “What are a few weeks of delay compared to a lifetime of love together. If that is your worst complaint archivist, then you’re fine shape. She will not blame you and even if she does, her betters will gently correct her.”

“You sound like my mother,” Yakhir said, bemoaning the lack of sympathy.

“When do you leave?” Kevit-Nakar asked, ignoring the whining.

“The caravan leaves in three days,” Yakhir said.

“Then take some advice from an old hand. Purchase the best pair of field boots you can find and get a waterproof padded pack for your datapad. Bring your worst clothes and a decent bottle of liquor,” the older man ticked off on his fingers. “Before you leave, I’ll give you one of these decrypted datacubes just to keep your skills honed out there in the wilderness.”

Yakhir was only half listening. He was imagining Adilah pitching a fit when he told her he would be gone for three months and that all their plans would be put on hold until he returned. He was wondering how he was going to manage without a lover for that long. ‘How does Azzi do it?’ he wondered, “I’m going to have to find that boy and have a talk.’

“Go,” Jahmiel broke into his thoughts. “You haven’t heard a word I said, and you have a lot of preparation ahead of you. Go and take care of business.”

Yakhir stumbled out of the bin and sleepwalked out of the Shaft and down the mountain. He did not come to his senses until he was almost home. He felt a pinch on his arm and leapt almost a meter before he realized his tormentor was Aziz. Yakhir stared at his friend with consternation

“You damn near had me shit in my pants,” Yakhir said.

Aziz laughed for a minute. “You had your head so far up your ass, nothing would have come out. I called out three times, and you never heard a word.”

“Yeah,” Yakhir said, absently waving off the criticism, “I just got punished with a dump run and I’m not happy. I haven’t told Adilah yet, but I can imagine the fireworks that are coming.”