The Lost Colony

Chapter 16

Silla considered this. "The slavers usually hand over your personal possessions when you're sold. When Liette bought you, the Governor may have passed them along."

"Can I get them?"

"No chance," Silla said, shaking her head. "You'd have to convince her it was in her best interest, and I assure you trying to save your friend's life won't cut it." She rubbed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Alain."

***

"Play us a song then," Liette commanded.

The temple was only closed to supplicants one day per week. On those days, the priesthood, maidens, princes, and most of the other slaves gathered in the main hall for relaxation and entertainment. Wine was served, although, Sparr noticed, not of the same quality that Liette and her inner circle enjoyed. Some played games, some chatted, and a few who had the talent played music.

"Yes Liette." This came from a thickset man Sparr had noticed hauling supplies and cleaning. He was cradling an instrument which looked like a cross between a harp and a guitar. Fine strings spread from the top toward a broad, curved base, each string longer than the next. With surprisingly nimble fingers, the man began to pick out an unfamiliar, but catchy, tune. Several in the audience sang along, but the words were too jumbled for Sparr to make out. He followed it with another, equally upbeat tune before taking a break to sip wine.

Next, two of the princes performed an intricate, choreographed dance. Stripped to the waist, the pair circled, leapt, stomped, and spun. Another prince kept time with a tiny, garishly painted drum. Sparr couldn't help but admire their skill. If trained in combat instead of dance, either could have been a formidable fighter. When the whirlwind ended, the two stood panting and grinning, bowing as the room applauded.

"What about you, Animal?" Liette gazed at Sparr with a languid, possessive smile.

"Me?" The question caught him off guard. "Dancing? No."

"Singing?"

"No, I..." Something occurred to Sparr. "I can do magic."

"Oh?" Liette's expression was unreadable, but several in the room turned to look.

"Yes," he said, an idea blossoming in his mind. "Only, I don't have my magic kit. I think the Governor may have it."

"A bright sack with straps for your shoulders?" This from Kess, who seemed rarely to leave Liette's side. Once again, the girl's access to Liette worked in his favor.

"Yes!" Sparr said. "It has everything I need."

Liette and Kess spoke in hushed tones. More than once, Liette's eyes turned suspiciously to Sparr, but after a moment Kess scurried off eagerly. To Sparr's enormous relief, she returned holding his pack. With it, the odds of a successful escape would be improved immeasurably.

Liette peered into the stuffed pack. "What do you need for your trick?"

Sparr's mind raced. "The, uh, magician's cloak, the magic beans, and the all-knowing cube." The last one was a bit of a stretch. His communicator wasn't precisely a cube.

"What?" Liette looked up from the pack. "Beans?"

Under careful direction from Sparr, Liette located the survival blanket, his communicator, and two packets of medicine. "The magic beans, yes!" he said. Sparr was desperate for the pistol, but couldn't think of any explanation for it.

"So show us your trick then," Liette said. She pushed the items toward Sparr.

His mind still scrambling to invent a trick, Sparr withdrew four of each pill with a flourish. One of the medicines was an antibiotic. The other was an experimental antiviral that the Alliance had only recently approved for use in the field. Sparr had no idea if either would help Efreem.

"I need two assistants," he said. By now, most of those in the room had turned their attention to Sparr. Several hands shot up, including Kess and Lell, who had been watching with lazy interest. Sparr knew he couldn't rely on either of his previous bed mates. Liette would be suspicious of any trick which involved their participation. Instead he called on two of the princes. Their obvious dislike of Sparr would preclude any worry that they were in on the trick.

Affecting exaggerated boredom, the two princes slouched forward. "And Liette, if you would be so good as to judge."

Sparr fastened the survival blanket around his neck like a cloak, then explained the trick. "The all-knowing cube cannot be deceived," he said, in what he hoped was a showman-like voice. "I entrust it to you," he said, and pressed the communicator into Liette's hand. She smiled proudly, pleased to be included.

He raised his hands, flourishing the cloak. "I call upon the mystical remote audio!" The last two words were gibberish in the local tongue, but activated the communicator's microphone.

Next Sparr pressed three of the red antibiotic pills into the hand of one prince, palming the fourth. He repeated the move with the white antiviral pills, palming one and placing the others into the hand of the second prince.

"I shall wait in one of the alcoves where I can neither see nor hear," Sparr explained. "Three times each you will give the other as few or as many of the magic beans as you wish. As you do so, you must challenge the all-knowing cube! Say 'Cube, I give one white and one red bean', or 'Cube, I give two red beans.'" When you have finished, call me forth.

The princes rolled their eyes, but Liette shot them a scolding glance. "We will challenge the cube," she said, allowing herself to be drawn into the spirit of the moment. She and the two princes retired to the back hall, as far from the alcoves as possible. Sparr stepped into an alcove and pulled the heavy curtain. Quickly, he pocketed the two pills he had kept earlier.

"Remote audio," he said, activating his implant. He could now hear any sound within range of the communicator.

He heard Liette say "You have to challenge the cube."

"Cube, I give two white beans," a prince said, voice dripping with boredom.

"Cube, I give three red beans," said the next prince. Sparr kept track in his head. The first prince now had one white bean and three red.

"Cube, I give one white bean and one red one." The second prince now had three white beans and one red.

And so it went. With his implant playing silently in his head, Sparr kept track of the moves. After three rounds, the first prince held one white bean, while the other held three red and two white.

"You may come forth," called one of the princes.

Sparr reached for the curtain, but stopped himself just in time. He wasn't supposed to be able to hear what was transpiring at the back of the hall. After a moment, one of the maidens pulled back the curtain and guided him out.

"The cube knows all!" Sparr announced. He pointed to the first prince. "You have a single white bean, your friend has the rest." Begrudgingly, the prince opened his palm to reveal the white bean. There was a small smattering of applause.

"It's so obvious," groused the second prince. "He has good hearing is all. He could hear us."

"Nonsense," Sparr said. "Here." He waved over the man with the guitar-like instrument. "Musicians have good ears. He may accompany me in the alcove to confirm that only the all-knowing cube hears you."

The princes and the musician agreed, and the trick was repeated. This time the princes sounded less bored, and tried several variations such as handing over all of the beans in their possession, or none at all. Sparr wasn't fazed. When he and the musician were brought forth, he once again called out the correct count.

"We could hear nothing," the musician said, with a nod toward Sparr. "Nice trick."

The man was being polite. Sparr knew the trick wasn't particularly entertaining, despite his attempts at showmanship. No one called for a repeat, and applause was once again modest. No matter, thought Sparr. Even if he wasn't allowed to keep the blanket and communicator, he had medicine which might help Efreem. That alone had made the ruse worthwhile.

"Sit with us," Liette said. She had returned from the back of the hall and now settled herself on the pile of furs and pillows occupied by the rest of the priestesses. Today she wore a less formal, but still fine, robe of yellow and cream. As before, her full, soft cleavage was on glorious display.

Sparr sat opposite Lell, who offered him her standard smirk. "You're going to get your magician's cape in the wine."

"A cup of wine only enhances my powers," Sparr said, but moved swiftly to remove the survival blanket. Trying to remain nonchalant, he rolled it and tucked it between him and an overstuffed pillow. The blanket doubled as a solar power source for the communicator, which was probably already running in low-power mode.

"I've experienced your powers," said Lell, softly enough that only Sparr and Liette could hear. "I'm not sure I could handle them 'enhanced'."

Liette only pursed her lips. The woman, Sparr noticed, rarely let her guard down. When in public, leading a service, or even here in the presence of the temple residents, she maintained a well-practiced detachment. Only in her private chambers had Liette shown her raw self.

"We were discussing this season's pilgrimage," Liette said. She appraised Sparr carefully, gauging his reaction.

The revelation was welcome. While Sparr had already determined that an Origin pilgrimage was his best option for reaching Shong, he had no idea how often such journeys took place. The suggestion that an opportunity might be upcoming was compelling.

"The journey will be soon?"

"Mmmm," said Liette. "Soon enough. Omm has yet to reveal who will accompany us. Not all receive the honor."

"I wasn't raised in the faith," Sparr said. "How does the almighty make his wishes known?"

Liette settled back, smiling smugly. The priestess loved to have the stage. "Of the faithful, Omm favors those who sacrifice most generously."

Sparr had already guessed as much. No doubt Liette and the other priestesses carefully tallied which citizens handed over the most tokens. Those that, in effect, out-bid their peers would be invited to join the pilgrimage, which Sparr suspected was as much bacchanal as spiritual journey. "And Omm reveals his wishes during prayers?"

"No, no," Liette said, shaking her head as if disappointed. "Omm makes his wishes known through the wheel."

The wheel itself must be rigged, thought Sparr. In the service he had witnessed earlier in the week, the roulette-like device had consistently rewarded supplicants according to their generosity. "And how many of the faithful will be so blessed?"

"Only Omm knows, but," Liette said knowingly, "on the last pilgrimage we escorted twenty souls."