The Ardoon King

by Samuel Fort

  Chapter 14: Tablet Mysteries

  “You were spot on with your theory,” Ben said. He sat at his desk, Thal in an armchair opposite him. “The numbers are coordinates. Something weird is going on in Cash, and if there, probably at the other locations. Did you learn anything more while I was gone?”

  Thal nodded and pulled a map from a folder, which she handed to him. “I found eight additional ‘secondary’ locations east of the Mississippi, aside from Cash, most of them southwest of us, two to our east. There appear to be hundreds of tertiary locations. There are spots, along the coasts, that are very peculiar.”

  Ben looked at the map of identified locations. “One in middle of nowhere, in South Dakota - or what used to be South Dakota - and another in Nebraska near the town of North Platte.” He lowered the map, lost in thought. Withdrawing a straightedge from his desk drawer, he used a pencil to draw a line between Steepleguard and North Platte. “East, Northeast.”

  He scratched his chin, picked up his phone and called the command center. “Tell me we got another bearing on that earlier transmission, Lieutenant.” His eyebrows went up and he started ruffling through his drawers, the phone trapped between his shoulder and head. He finally produced a small plastic, L-shaped ruler and a metal compass with a spring-bow head, which he tossed on the map. “Great, give the coordinates to me.”

  Using the ruler, he drew a line, then picked up the compass to draw a radius. “Right, that’s what I’m seeing...right, North Platte. No, I’ve got additional intel. Good job. Tell Lord Disparthian you’re excused from night patrols this week...no problem. Out.”

  He placed the compass on one of the stone tablets and phoned Disparthian. After a lengthy discussion, he said, “What time can Vedeus and his squadron head out? Good, I’ll be there to see them off. I’ll just put in for overtime.” He smiled and winked at Thal as he listened to the response. “What salary?” He laughed, and a minute later said, “Okay. Out.”

  Ben sat the receiver of the phone down and leaned back, putting his hands on top of his head. “Perhaps not coincidentally,” he said “we intercepted a transmission from a Peth company in distress, apparently generated from the same general area specified in the tablets as a ‘secondary location.’ I’d already decided to send out an expedition if we could figure out where to go.”

  Sitting up, he slapped his desk triumphantly and said, “Now we know exactly where to go. You’re a treasure, Thal.”

  “I am pleased to be of use to the kingdom,” the physicist said, bowing slightly. “Perhaps you will allow me to contribute one other thing?”

  “What’s that?”

  The scientist reached into a leather satchel that was leaning against her chair and withdrew something from it, which she extended to Ben. A tablet. Not the ancient kind, however.

  “What’s this?” asked Ben as he accepted the thin glass and metal device. He turned it over in his hands trying to determine its make. It bore only a single raised marking: Cicada. “Feeling a bit guilty that I didn’t get anything for you. Is this Android or iOS?”

  Thal said, “Neither. It’s a proprietary system. You asked me to catalogue and photograph the Tiwanaku tablets.” She nodded toward the device. “All the photographs are there, in addition to all my documentation, and many useful reference materials.”

  Ben whistled. “You work fast.”

  “I’m just lazy. It’s exhausting carrying those stone tablets to and from the cave and I dare not assign such a task to the fetches. Servants, that is.”

  “I’m afraid that chore’s not going away for either of us. The digital photos are purely for reference purposes. I can’t actually read the inscriptions from a digital image. The lines are too fine and there’s a three-dimensional element to the colors - which I realize doesn’t make sense, exactly.”

  “It doesn’t need to, Ben. I’m a scientist. I don’t need to see something to comprehend its existence. Don’t discount the Cicada’s value, though. It is a very special piece of technology. It is the only such device in existence. My father was heavily involved in experimental technologies before the apocalypse. The Cicada was supposed to be a fully-functional prototype of a next-generation oculus, the tool used by our scribes to write scripts. In the old days, scripts were calculated using boards and recorded with pen and paper, of course. More recently, computers were used. The thing you are holding was ostensibly designed to replace even computers.”

  “Ostensibly?”

  “I don’t think that was the designer’s true purpose. Scripting was a cover story.”

  “Who was the designer?”

  Thal didn’t answer. She didn't need to.

  “Ridley,” said Ben.

  “Just so. He requested my father and I bring this to him when he invited us to Lilian’s coronation. We never had an opportunity to give it to him, and while I tinkered with it on occasion I could never make out its true purpose; at least, not until you involved me in the study of the tablets.”

  “What does it do, then?”

  “At the most basic level, it does what any digital tablet or smartphone might do, but with a much greater emphasis on digital imagining and higher mathematical computations.”

  “I see,” remarked Ben, trying to appear impressed. “To be honest, it’s a bit thicker and heavier than what I’d expect from cutting-edge technology. It’s got to weigh a couple of pounds.”

  The woman shook her head. “Don’t compare it to a consumer device. It’s far more powerful than anything even the geekiest geek might imagine. Its built-in cameras – there are five – take three-dimensional photographs of remarkable resolution. A single photograph requires almost a hundred terabytes of storage.”

  Ben whistled again. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am.”

  “That’d be hell to email as an attachment. Not that email exists anymore. That would explain the weight. How much storage is built into this?”

  “More than can ever be utilized. Storage occurs at a sub-atomic level using a specialized crystal. Also, the display has a resolution of just under thirty-five thousand pixels per square inch. Don’t ask me how that’s accomplished – I haven’t a clue. My father might know. But that was my first clue that this wasn’t really intended for scripts. Scripts require massive amounts of storage space, yes. Higher math? Yes. High resolution? No.”

  “Ridley paid for all this?”

  “Paid?” Thal looked monetarily confused. “You’ve forgotten that Nisirtu do not use money. Ridley was penniless.”

  “Yet he had this trillion-dollar masterpiece designed and built by your company.”

  “The company my family controlled. We did not own it. Ridley provided a script that facilitated its development by our company for the U.S. government for use on spy satellites. It was never deployed, however.”

  “How do I recharge it? I don’t see any ports.”

  Thal shook her head. “It recharges itself, using whatever energy source is nearest. Sunlight is ideal. It also has the ability to absorb power indirectly from any nearby electrical source. Overhead lights, for example, or a radio. Heat, even, though that takes longer.”

  Ben whistled. “You guys could have made a mint from this thing. You’re sure you want to give it to me? I imagine it’s helpful in your research.”

  “It was not meant for me. Ridley provided the design parameters and I suspect it is the only device capable of fully capturing the Empyrean scripts, which only you can read. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out it was meant for your use.”

  “It did take a rocket scientist.”

  “Astrophysicist. It’s hardly the same thing.”

  Ben touched the screen, which instantly came to life. Thal had set a partial image of one of the Tiwanaku tablets as the default background.

  “Whoa!” marveled Ben.

  On the screen, just as in real life, the scripts danced for him.

  “Does it please you?” asked the woman.

 
“Of course. Tell me anything you do that doesn’t.”

  Thal shrugged, but delighted, she looked away. “Thank you, Ben.”