Chapter 8

In the light of day, the town looked pristine and innocent again. Yakhir shook his head trying to reconcile the two views of his town that he now knew existed. After much debate, the family decided that daytime should be safe for both Yakhir and Janina to travel alone from the house, but if they went anywhere that might be out of way, they swore they would not go alone.

They let Adilah sleep through that dead-of-night conversation. Circumstances had taken a turn for the worse and they needed their house to be a safe haven, and her sleep afforded a brief respite. A confrontation, perhaps only a conversation, was looming, and Yakhir felt ill at ease. He wouldn't be able to hide behind Janina like he did with Davni. He shook his head: that was only last night, less than twelve hours ago. A new, more dangerous era had arisen in half a revolution of the planet.

His first task was his datapad. The corner was smashed in where it had connected with the skull of their attacker. The material, which didn't crack like plastics did, didn't have the cool, slick feel of metal, which meant he couldn't identify from which material the case was made. In any case, the machine was acting up and rebooting often without an apparent reason. This time he wasn't going to sneak into Shaft One; he was much more cautious of the Archivist and his few allies. As he considered those who supported the Archivist, he knew of at least one turncoat who was assigned to Shaft One. Master Kevit-Nakar would write out permission to draw a datapad, which would give him the necessary cover.

Yakhir sought out his master and told his story of last night's attack. He held up his datapad to illustrate the force of his blow and he pulled out the knife to highlight the assassin's intent. The master sagged against the wall.

"Nasty business," was the older man's reply. He fished out a pad of paper from his pocket, which Yakhir gaped at in astonishment. The man had the equivalent of a year's salary tucked carelessly upon his person. Master Kevit-Nakar wrote out an order for a new datapad and a cable between the two computers, so that data could be transferred. He reminded his apprentice not to just grab the first thing he saw but to take his time and choose wisely.

At the mouth of Shaft One, Yakhir was challenged by a mere archivist, but a weasel nonetheless. The archivist attempted to cause trouble but the argument grew loud and a master archivist emerged from a nearby tunnel and brought the obstructionist to heel - rudely. Yakhir withheld his bitter smile until the archivist was ushered into a tunnel and the master gave him a brief wave.

Yakhir marched the entire length of the shaft to L105 and walked down to the three room storage bin of datapads, computers, and accessories belonging to the Martell Consortium, according to the manifest. The younger Yakhir had snatched from the first room and run like the wind in fear of being caught the first time. This time he waded through the various crates with his master's blessing.

In the third room, Yakhir found more powerful datapads with more ports for various types of datacubes. He remembered the strange cubes of his latest project and searched for a compatible port. As he approached the back of the room, the last stack of crates was three crates high, a little unusual because every other stack was two or even just one crate high. As he drew near, he observed that the light lit the back of the crates, as if the crates were not against the back wall.

He climbed the crates to investigate their contents and found that there was at least a meter gap in back. None of the crates had been opened, probably because no apprentice had come back this far and no Master Archivist was still agile enough or stupid enough to clamber up three crates. He popped the latches and the slid the top to the side, only to watch it tip and fall against the back wall with a loud crash. However, the contents of the crate gleamed and his gaze was drawn to the contents.

"Here is a worthy replacement!" Yakhir reveled, as he pulled the slim datapad from its packing material. He turned it on and the screen fired up immediately. The logo of the Martell Consortium flashed for a moment and faded to the prompt screen. He was almost drooling with anticipation.

Yakhir jerked his head upright. He heard voices in the tunnel, which shouldn't be there. He listened a moment longer and identified one voice as the nasty archivist who had attempted to stop him at the top of the Shaft. Trusting his instincts, Yakhir climbed down the backside of the crates and hoisted the lid back on top, climbing far enough up only to lean over and secure the two latches. Then he dropped down into the dark bottom. He slid his new find into his sack and withdrew the dagger, holding it in his hand just in case. He held still and breathed quietly.

"Are you sure he was coming here?" Master Atto grilled his little informant as they stepped into the third room.

"I'm positive he was coming here to retrieve a datapad. He had a note from Master Kevit-Nakar with him," the simpering snipe whined.

"He isn't in here, now!" the older man snorted. "He is probably holed up in one of the other rooms at this point, where we will not find him until he emerges from the Shaft. I wanted to catch him red-handed, damn it. The little shit may have wriggled out of my grasp this time, but his time is growing short, whether he knows it or not."

Another pair of feet marched into the room. "The tunnel is empty, Archivist," a gruff voice clipped. Yakhir allowed himself a smirk at the sound of the escort guard.

"Of course it is," Atto opined, "when my day is overbooked, nothing goes right. Kevit-Nakar is a doddering old fool and I shall have to fit his reprimand into my schedule as well. There is no rest for weary. Come!" he ordered.

The three turned and hustled out of the room, still yammering and whining. As their voices faded into the distance, Yakhir stretched his legs, rising from his crouch and feeling for the back wall. Only, the back wall wasn't stone; it was a ceramic of some sort. As his eyes adjusted to light, he saw a series of ports built into the ceramic façade and a small, unopened crate on the floor in the corner. He started to run his fingers across the crate looking for its latches when he heard another set of feet running down the tunnel.

The mystery would have to wait for another day. He threw his sack on top and made ready to leap upon the next attacker from atop the three crated perch with his blade ready.

"Yakhir!" hissed a familiar voice.

"I'm here," he called out softly as he climbed down the front side and hopped down from the last crate.

"Are you okay? Did they find you?" his father's former personal assistant asked him.

Yakhir assured the man that not only was he alright, but that the two conspirators and their guard hadn't found him. He didn't bother to add where he hid. As they left the cache, Yakhir swept up a typical datapad in his hand from the first room and carried it under his arm. The treasured one was already stowed in his sack.

Kemal escorted the young man down the tunnel and out into the empty shaft. Safe from hidden ears in the tunnels, Kemal assured Yakhir that the young archivist would suffer a broken leg or two before the sun rose again. Yakhir stared at the placid looking man with wonder in his eyes and even more admiration.

When they reached the top of the shaft, the quisling archivist was no where to be seen. Kemal handed Yakhir off to the watchman at the Shaft entrance, who escorted him over to the next shaft. Another archivist met him at the entrance and walked with him to Master Kevit-Nakar. Yakhir placed the simple datapad into his master's hand and explained to him that the Archivist Atto would insist on its return along with a reprimand by the end of the day. Safely under the watchful eyes of his master, he ducked into a tunnel and made his way to his new investigation, where he spent the rest of his day acclimating to his new toy. That evening he stashed his newest treasure in a niche across the way, out of concern that the Archivist might ambush him at the entrance to the Shaft.

This day Yakhir kept a close eye on the hour and left the site well before the sun set. No one challenged him, but he felt a myriad of eyes on his back as he walked down the mountain.

He arrived home before anyone else, which surprised him to no end. He relieved the nanny of the clingy Ayoub and sent a grateful woman on her way. He played silly games with his brother, waiting for everyone else to arrive home. Adilah came through the door and espied Yakhir on his hands and knees giving his brother a camel ride around the room. Without Yakhir realizing her presence, she stared longingly at the scene of her lover with a young child, knowing that was her secret wish which would only come years down the road.

Making her entrance known, she scooped up Ayoub in her arms and took his place on Yakhir's back before the young man could react. She leaned Ayoub over her shoulder and down her back, telling him to spank the camel's butt to make him move faster. He did and Yakhir howled in mock pain. Ayoub added his shrieks of delight to the twist on the game, and the house became a cacophony of hoots and hollers as their mother walked in the door.

She smiled under the deep circles around her eyes. The world seemed wonderful, if only for a brief moment. Yakhir looked up at his mother and decided that he was embarrassed. He went flat on his belly, causing Adilah and Ayoub to flop down on top of him. The protests and squalls began and their mother came over to separate the feuding children. She swooped up her youngest and laid a foot on Yakhir's back to pin him to the floor.

"Hello, little one," she cooed to her son in her arms, "and hello to my other two on the floor. He really does have a nice butt, Adilah. Don't you think?"

"Mom!" Yakhir called up indignantly from the floor but she ignored him and walked into the kitchen.

"You do have a nice butt; it's so squeezable," Adilah commented taking a handful of his ass in her hand.

The door opened once more, and Janina came in with her own sack of books and datasheets slung over her shoulder. "Hallu, Adilah," Janina called out, "couldn't you at least wait until we pretend to go to sleep."