by Robert McCaw
“EVIL.” Koa began to repeat the litany, shouting at the top of his lungs. All the while, the firefighters sprayed foam everywhere. Koa was heartened to see Basa reach Soo Lin.
“There is no evil in obeying my commands … you must obey.” Masters’ deep voice boomed from Cepheid’s speakers. “Cepheid, you must obey.”
The words seemed to reestablish Masters’ control over Cepheid. The robot’s arm jerked. The flame shot straight out, almost licking the petroleum-covered floor.
“EVIL!” Koa shouted. “You must not take a HUMAN LIFE.” The robot’s arm stopped again.
The firefighters spread foam wider and wider, but there was diesel fuel and gasoline everywhere. Basa sliced at the ropes holding Soo Lin. Christ, Koa cursed, why couldn’t he move faster? They had to get her out. They themselves had to get out before the place went up in flames.
“Obey.”
“Evil!”
The conflicting words kept the robot frozen. Then Cepheid’s arm moved, but not as either man intended. In one swift movement Cepheid turned the acetylene torch back on itself, and the flame cut through the side of the robot’s head. Its huge glass eye transmitted the blue-white color of superheated acetylene before its circuit boards melted. Cepheid destroyed himself before Koa got to the valve on the acetylene tank to shut off the gas.
With the immediate threat of being burned alive removed, Gunter managed to restore power and slowly closed the shutter of the Alice I telescope.
Koa, Soo Lin, and three police officers gathered inside the office. Soo Lin, now bundled in a grossly oversized arctic parka, shivered almost uncontrollably.
“Masters wasn’t scheduled to be up here today,” she said, speaking in a hushed whisper, “but somehow he snuck into the building. At first, I thought the storm had cut off the power and the communication lines, but it was him. He cut the lines. Then he hit me and tied me up out there.” She pointed through the window between the control room and the telescope. “The bastard killed my Keneke because he was close to revealing the flaw in Masters’ big discovery. Masters admitted it … he admitted killing Keneke. And Gaylord too … he killed poor Gaylord. I saw him dragging the body. He was going to destroy the telescopes and leave me here to die … all for the sake of his phony discovery. He’s a maniac, drunk on the desire for glory … for immortality.”
“Do you know where he went?” Koa asked. “How he planned to get off the mountain?”
“He left the telescopes. I saw him go. He said something about a car in the hills above Waimea. He’s going to pretend he was never here.”
Koa, still wired into the radio network, spoke into his microphone. “Sergeant Lomi, this is Koa. Can you hook up a telephone patch to police headquarters?”
“Yes, sir,” came the reply, followed by a series of clicks and pauses.
“Koa, this is Desk Sergeant Kanewa. What’s happening? The chief has been calling me every five minutes for the past two hours. He’s about to blow a gasket.”
“Listen carefully, Sergeant Kanewa. Thurston Masters killed Keneke Nakano and an observatory technician named Gil Gaylord. He tried to destroy the Alice telescopes. He’s on foot trying to escape down the western slope of Mauna Kea toward Waimea. He must’ve stashed a vehicle, probably off one of the jeep trails in the hills behind Waimea. Get some officers up there. Set up roadblocks. Consider him armed and dangerous. Don’t let him get out of there.”
Koa turned his attention to another force at his disposal. “Sergeant Lomi?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Can the Bradley track Masters down the slope through this storm?”
“Sure. It’ll be slow going—that’s brutal terrain—but the Bradley can handle steep grades and rough terrain, and we’ve got thermal detectors. They’ll pick up a man’s heat, especially in this weather.”
Koa was hot to catch Masters. After instructing PFC Caulder, together with one of his patrolmen, to keep watch over the facility, Koa left Gunter with Soo Lin in the telescope offices. He took Sergeant Basa and the other police officers through the still-intensifying storm to the Bradley. Sergeant Lomi fitted Koa with thermal goggles. The two men stood in the turret as Sergeant Lomi directed the big tracked machine down the slope. They advanced cautiously, avoiding large boulders and other obstacles. The wind tore at them, flinging pellets of ice that frequently obscured their visibility.
Koa and Lomi scanned the blizzard-torn night with their thermal glasses, searching for any gleam of heat. To check his glasses, Koa turned back toward the Alice telescopes. The heat radiating from the support facilities lit up the glasses like a movie screen.
Yard by yard, the Bradley tracked down the icy slope. Twice Sergeant Lomi stopped, directing the driver to back up and turn to avoid some obstruction or particularly difficult slope. Five minutes, then ten. Koa estimated that they had gone four hundred yards down the mountain when a point of light flashed in his goggles.
He grabbed Sergeant Lomi and pointed. Lomi directed the driver to swing left toward the source of heat. Both men stared through the night as the image grew from a blob of light and gradually took on shape—a thick, long body, then a head. Almost simultaneously, both men recognized the image—a cow.
Sergeant Lomi pointed the driver back to the right. They came to the edge of the ancient Mauna Kea adze quarry. Sergeant Lomi, intently aware of the risk of running the vehicle into one of the huge pits hacked into the side of the mountain, inched the Bradley forward, skirting a giant pit’s edges.
As they neared the lower limit of the quarry, the storm abated somewhat. Visibility improved from a few feet to a few yards. Koa scanned the ground ahead. Still no sign of Masters. He wondered if they might have missed their prey. Maybe he hadn’t headed toward Waimea at all. Perhaps he was still near the observatories. The thought sent a chill down Koa’s spine.
Koa keyed his microphone. “PFC Caulder, what is your status?”
No response. “PFC Caulder, what is your status?” Koa repeated. No response.
“He’s backtracked. He must be back at the observatory.” Even before Koa finished speaking, Sergeant Lomi signaled the driver into a wide turn. As the Bradley came around, Sergeant Lomi ordered the vehicle to full power. The Bradley jerked violently forward like a spooked horse, the noise rising to a deafening clatter. The vehicle shook as it reached top speed and raced up the mountain.
The Bradley bucked as it crested the ridge, stopping so abruptly that Koa banged against the steel ring of the turret. Ignoring the searing pain in his shoulder, he levered himself out of the turret, swung down to the ground, and took off at a dead run through the snow. Suddenly he felt weak and remembered what Gunter had said about dying of oxygen deprivation. It didn’t matter. He had to save Soo Lin. His lungs burned and he fought down nausea. He drew his Glock automatic and hobbled as fast as he could into the Alice II building and down the hallway. Turning right and then left, he entered the Alice I service bay.
“You!” Soo Lin screamed.
“Yes, Miss Hun.” Masters’ voice retained its arrogance. “You seem to have escaped your fate, but you won’t be so fortunate the second time.”
“What are you doing?”
“Exactly what I originally planned, except this time I will personally ignite the fire that will consume this observatory and you along with it.”
The sound of Masters’ voice led Koa toward the overhead door into the Alice I dome. His eyes instantly absorbed the scene. The blackened hulk of Cepheid. Soo Lin bound on the floor. The police officer he’d left behind unconscious next to PFC Caulder’s limp body. Gunter struggling with a knife in his shoulder. Masters standing near the main door with the acetylene torch in his right hand.
“Stop, or I’ll shoot.” Koa’s voice boomed through the dome.
In reply, a flame bloomed from the tip of the acetylene torch, sending a plume of fire four feet into the air. To Koa the action seemed to unfold in slow motion. Masters raised the torch, preparing to throw it into the lake of die
sel fuel and gasoline covering the floor. At the same time, Masters’ left hand, holding a gun, swung toward Koa.
Koa’s pistol bucked. He brought it down and fired again. Masters jerked as the first bullet slammed into his shoulder. Masters’ gun flashed, but Koa’s bullet had disrupted his aim, and a glass segment in the primary mirror of the telescope shattered. Yet the lighted torch sailed upward in an arc, headed for the pooled diesel fuel and a conflagration that would consume them all. They were about to die.
“Whoooosh!” The sound of escaping gas filled the dome. The rubber hose from the acetylene tank whipped through the air like a wild snake. The flame died just before the torch hit the floor. Only then did Koa see that Gunter had crawled over and cut the acetylene hose.
His gun at the ready, Koa cautiously approached Masters’ body crumpled on the floor. Squatting down, Koa checked for a pulse. There was none. Koa’s second shot had killed the would-be modern Hubble.
Koa, Nālani, and Soo Lin met three days later for dinner at the Queen’s Court restaurant overlooking Hilo Bay. Chief Lannua joined them. Hook Hao, the master of all Hilo waterfront secrets, somehow learned of their dinner and showed up with two bottles of Russian River chardonnay. They made a place for him at the table, and he offered the first toast. “To Koa Kāne, who never forgets a friend in need.” They raised a glass to Koa.
As they discussed Reggie’s Kaho‘olawe escapade, Koa gave Hook credit for tipping off the police to Jenkins’s secret shipment of artifacts. “You know,” Koa mused, “if Reggie hadn’t gotten hurt out there, we might never have solved the Pōhakuloa antiquities case. Reggie led us to Jenkins, who led us to Kling, Skeeter, and ultimately Gunter. The Maui prosecutor nailed Jenkins for attempted murder. When he gets out, we’ll prosecute him for antiquities theft, and then the feds will have their turn on drug charges. And that little rat Kling will also be serving time.”
“I was sure Gunter murdered Keneke,” the chief interjected, “but once again, Koa, you proved me wrong. Here’s to the best detective in Hawai‘i!” Again they drank to Koa.
“How did you do it, Koa?” Soo Lin asked. “How did you stop Cepheid?”
“Keneke saved your life. He built Cepheid’s artificial intelligence software and programmed the robot to distinguish right from wrong. He gave it a conscience. Danny, Masters’ son, told me how to trigger the program. In the end, Cepheid refused to be an instrument of murder.”
“What’s going to happen to Gunter?” Nālani asked.
“He’ll serve some time, but not as much as he would have without his good deeds on the mountain,” Koa responded. “The courts simply can’t overlook grave robbing and antiquities theft.”
They sat in silence pondering Gunter’s fate before Koa changed the subject. “Funny how ambition destroyed two careers. Masters committed murder in pursuit of immortality, while Gunter’s thwarted ambition led him to rob graves. Somebody once said, ‘Whether we fall by ambition, blood, or lust, like diamonds we are cut with our own dust.’”
Just before they were ready to pay the check and leave, Prince Kamehameha walked up to the table. They rose to greet him, but he waved them back to their seats. “I’ve come to pay tribute to Detective Kāne, a true Hawaiian who solved three cases in one fell swoop. Old Kawelo Nakano is singing his praises in the great beyond. I honor him for stopping the thief who desecrated the graves of my ancestors.”
The prince cracked a small smile. “Even my friend Aikue, who didn’t much like testifying for the Maui police, acknowledges that Detective Kāne prevented the looting of treasures rescued from Kaho‘olawe. Koa Kāne is hanohano, honorable. There is no higher tribute.”
Koa thanked the prince, but felt a chill inside. Those around him might think him honorable, but he couldn’t think of himself that way. He’d killed a man and escaped punishment. He hadn’t acknowledged his crime or paid his debt to society as he demanded of others. His life was a charade. Yet, he knew he’d achieved a bit of redemption … a small down payment … in bringing Keneke’s killer to justice. Still, he had much left to do before, if ever, he deserved to be hanohano.
EPILOGUE
KOA ARRIVED HOME early one August afternoon to find Nālani at the door with a smile on her face. They kissed. “Sit down right here on the steps, where you can look out over the forest. I’ve got something wonderful to show you,” she beamed.
He sat and leaned back against the railing, wonderfully free of the pinched nerve that had dogged him for years. The surgeon had been true to his word, and Koa was as good as new—well, almost.
Nālani disappeared into the house briefly before returning with a letter in her hand. Addressed to Detective Koa Kāne and Nālani Kahumana, it bore a California return address. Koa slipped the letter from its envelope and unfolded a single sheet of paper, covered on both sides with tiny, but legible, handwriting.
August 30
Dear Koa and Nālani:
I write with exciting news. Keneke Kawelo Nakano came into this world at dawn a week ago. Eight pounds, four ounces. He looks just like his father, black eyes, black hair, face as brown and round as his father’s. And already he has eyes for the stars. He’s a precious miracle. I’m not exactly sure how he happened. Maybe the Hawaiian gods worked their ancient magic.
Dr. Maples, the new head of the Alice Telescope Project, has extended an invitation to join the Alice staff. I have accepted, and we’re returning to the Big Island. I want Keneke Kawelo to grow up in the land of his father and his great-grandfather, to know the Humu‘ula Saddle and the trails of Mauna Kea. I want him to know he, like his father, is a descendant of a great chief, the chief of the land of the hafted adze and the ‘ua‘u bird.
Prince Kamehameha has convinced the state of Hawai‘i and the Defense Department to create the Keneke Nakano National Historical Site at Pōhakuloa. Many treasures that Gunter stole will be returned to their rightful place, and the adze makers’ cavern will be open to the public. Keneke Kawelo will one day see his heritage, so long hidden where only Pele knows the way.
Love,
Soo Lin
Only when Koa finished reading did Nālani hand him the photograph of little Keneke Kawelo Nakano. Soo Lin was right—he did look just like his father.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
There is an adze quarry, damaged by Navy bombs, near the Pu‘u Moiwi cinder cone on the island of Kaho‘olawe, a place of great cultural significance to Hawaiians. Archaeologists theorize that ancient South Pacific explorers first brought adze making technology to Pu‘u Moiwi, and from there it spread to the Big Island.
No matter how the requisite skills reached them, the adze makers of Mauna Kea had a formidable presence on the mountain where the summit soars roughly 14,000 feet above sea level and was glaciated during the ice ages. Volcanic eruptions under its icy slopes created a particularly hard form of lava called hawaiite. Ancient Hawaiians discovered veins of hawaiite along the upper surfaces of Mauna Kea and mined them to make stone tools—items highly prized in their time. The quarries are expansive, stretching more than seven miles, and are organized into different work areas, not unlike a modern manufacturing plant. There were many workers, who, collectively, would have been a potent societal force.
Harsh weather undoubtedly drove these intrepid craftsmen off the summit during the winter months. Although the adze makers’ workshop that Koa Kāne discovers is a product of the author’s imagination, archaeologists, in truth, have never satisfactorily solved the mystery of where Mauna Kea’s adze makers spent the Hawaiian winters. Nor have historians explained their disappearance long before Western contact.
The adze makers may have returned to their villages during the winter months, but they may also have relocated to the 6,000-foot saddle between Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa. Stone chips and partially formed stone tools have been found in small lava-tube caves on the saddle plain; and additional caves, perhaps even whole workshops, could easily be buried under the many overlapping lava flows from the two mountains.
&
nbsp; While the summit of Mauna Kea was an important industrial area for the ancients, it is today the premier astronomical observation site in the northern hemisphere. The two 10-meter, segmented-mirror Keck telescopes are among the most advanced and productive observational instruments in human history.
Adze makers and astronomers form the historical backbone of Death of a Messenger, bookending the astounding changes in the 250 years since Captain Cook became the first European to reach Hawai‘i. Keneke Nakano, the victim in this murder mystery, bridges these disparate points in time and mirrors the tragedies suffered by the Hawaiian peoples.
