Night's Reckoning

by Elizabeth Hunter

  Unsurprisingly, the ball flew through the air and hovered over the hoop before falling directly into the basket.

  “That’s not how you’re supposed to play.” Ben couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at the corner of his mouth.

  “I know that.” She flicked her wrist and the ball rolled back toward her. “But if I play it the other way—”

  “You mean the right way?”

  “I don’t subscribe to your narrow definition of sport.” Tenzin waved her hand in a careless gesture. “What is the fun of playing if you don’t win?”

  Ben hopped over the threshold of the hatch and intercepted the ball before it reached her. He dribbled in place before he walked slowly toward the small half court that had been marked on the metal deck with duct tape.

  “The fun is knowing you might not win.” He stood at the foul line and lined up his shot. “You practice and practice more until you’re the best you can be.” He tossed the ball toward the basket.

  The basketball flew in a perfect arc, nearly reaching the hoop before it stopped in midair, spun around, and flew back toward Tenzin.

  “And you still might not win.” She caught the ball and tucked it under her arm. “What’s the point of playing the game if you can’t control the outcome?”

  He walked toward her, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from touching her. She was wearing a pair of soft black leggings and a fitted tunic that bared her arms. Her skin nearly glowed in the dim light of the hold.

  “Controlling the outcome would spoil the game.”

  “So the game is chance. Like dice or stones.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not chance.”

  Tenzin bounced the ball. “Humans think that work and preparation can predict outcome.”

  “Can’t they?” His uncle was a fan of both preparation and work. “Talent aside, the player who practices the most has an advantage.”

  “Who decides who may practice and who must work?” Tenzin said. “It’s not always the players. What about players who don’t have the same facilities? What about a player whose diet is poor, so they cannot build muscle mass as well as a better-fed player?” She bounced the ball toward him and Ben caught it.

  “So you’re saying who wins in basketball is whoever has the most advantages going in?” Ben bounced the ball back. “It has nothing to do with hard work and talent?”

  “I’m saying that success is built by many factors, and most of them are out of yours or any mortal’s hands.” Tenzin bounced the ball twice before she sent it back to Ben.

  “Chaos theory.”

  “In a sense.” Tenzin walked toward the basket and threw the ball in a perfect arc, just as Ben had taught her. A foot above the rim, the ball stopped. “I practiced throwing the ball—”

  “Shooting a basket.”

  She raised one eyebrow. “I practiced shooting a basket exactly as you taught me. I practiced many hours.”

  “And?”

  Tenzin flew up to the basket and floated next to her ball. “I thought about strength and speed. About angles and velocity.”

  “And your shot will go in.” Ben walked across from her. “Look at it. It’s perfectly lined up.”

  Tenzin kept her eyes on Ben. She pursed her lips and blew as she released the ball. The basketball, thrown slightly off trajectory from her tiny breath, hit the rim, bounced back and forth three times, tottered on the edge for a fraction of a second, then fell to the floor, never making it through.

  “You blew on that,” Ben said. “Doesn’t count.”

  “It’s the only thing that counts,” she said. “A butterfly flaps her wings and all your preparation and work mean nothing.”

  “So what’s the point of playing the game?” Ben asked, thinking about the perfect arcs he’d seen when he first walked in. “What’s the point of any game?”

  “The point,” Tenzin said, “is winning.”

  “And if you can’t win fairly, cheat?”

  She landed on her feet. “Cheating implies someone else makes the rules, Benjamin. And I make my own rules.”

  “And expect everyone else to follow them too?”

  “No. I expect people not to follow them. That’s what I prepare for. The inevitability of human selfishness. A tornado of butterflies.”

  “Human selfishness? Not vampire?”

  She smiled. “Our selfishness is the most human thing about us.”

  Ben’s head hurt. “I hadn’t planned to stay down here debating the ethics of cheating in basketball. But just be aware that the ball can be heard outside and at some point they may ask you to stop so they can listen. Please don’t kill them when they do that. Also, Kadek’s human crew will need to get at those pallets eventually.” Ben nodded to the stacked provisions near the rear bulkhead. “So if I come with some extra humans, don’t assume they mean harm.”

  “Fine.” She walked back to the ball and started bouncing it again. “How goes the search?”

  “They think they found it. Or at least part of it.”

  “The university people? Or Kadek’s people?”

  “Both I think.”

  She nodded. “Good.”

  “Who is Kadek?”

  “He’s a pirate, like Cheng. Only… not like Cheng. Cheng is mostly legitimate now.”

  “Mostly?”

  She looked up. “Kadek takes care of the parts that aren’t in the mostly.”

  “So he’s a pirate?”

  Tenzin shrugged. “Are we looters if we find a thing that belongs to a vampire and retrieve it, even if we ruin an archaeological site? Your Italian girl might say yes, but we’ve done that plenty of times. It all depends on how you look at these things. Kadek has done many recoveries. Much of Cheng’s original wealth came from ships like the one we’re looking for.”

  “Shipwrecks, you mean?”

  “It’s an easy way of picking up wealth when you’re young and ambitious.” She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “Not all of us have rich uncles.”

  “Ha ha. And Johari?”

  Tenzin’s demeanor immediately changed.

  “Watch her,” she said. “I don’t trust anyone who changes loyalties like she has.”

  Ben scoffed. “She had to, Tiny. She was dying and she took Saba’s cure. What else was she supposed to do?”

  “Die.” Tenzin tossed the ball toward the basket. It sailed through the hoop with a whisper. “That was her fate.”

  “Harsh.”

  Tenzin cocked her head. “We aren’t really immortal, you know. Am I supposed to be horrified that she might only have lived five hundred years instead of a thousand? Or more?”

  “So you wouldn’t take Saba’s cure if you had to?”

  “Never.” Tenzin rolled the basketball back to her feet. “Denying my element would be denying who I am. But Johari did take Saba’s cure, which means she values her life above anything else, which means we cannot trust her.”

  “But she belongs to Saba now.”

  Tenzin passed the ball to him. “Do you think Saba is an ally of anyone but herself?”

  Ben frowned and squared his shoulders to the basket before he released the ball. “I thought… I don’t know. I thought Saba was one of the good guys. Giovanni—”

  “Giovanni didn’t tell you she was good, did he?” Tenzin’s laugh made Ben bristle. “Trying to define any of us as good or bad is difficult. With Saba, it is impossible.” She flew to the ball and grabbed it.

  Boy, you are faithful. Few know such strength so young. Go to sleep. Your time is not now.

  She’d told Ben that once when he was young. Saba, the mother of vampires. Saba, the oldest of their kind. Saba, most ancient of earth vampires. She’d been the most beautiful woman Ben had ever seen, appearing out of the shadows like a goddess. She’d healed his uncle, brought peace to his aunt, and disappeared in the night like a thief.

  In those moments when she’d spoken directly to Ben in the hall, she’d made him feel special. Like maybe ever
ything in his life—the abuse, the violence, the loss—it had all been for something bigger than himself. That he could be—that he was something more.

  Ben said, “If she healed Johari and sent her here, she must want to find the Laylat al Hisab too. You’re being cynical.”

  “Of course I am.” She flew up and perched on the edge of the basket. “Johari might be trustworthy, but there will be no assumption from me. Watch her and wait. Don’t suppose that we are all working toward the same goal, Benjamin.”

  It was nightfall the next time he saw her. They had returned to the wreck site that afternoon and performed something Fabia called a multibeam sonar that provided a better 3-D map of the wreck site before they dropped anchor. And while Fabia and the university team had plans to send down the submersible robot the next morning with some student divers, Cheng and Kadek had other plans.

  The wreck was located on a relatively shallow shelf where a reef jutted upward from the ocean floor. The wreck of the Qamar Jadid appeared to be lying on its side, its bow overtaken by coral, with much of the wreck buried in sand or sediment.

  Cheng and Kadek weren’t as trustful of the sonar as Fabia and the professors were. They wanted to see for themselves. They stripped down to the skin on the top deck, leaving on nothing but short trousers. Cheng had a net bag attached to his waist like divers used to collect specimens, a slim black knife tied to his leg, and a determined expression.

  “We’ll go down first.” He plaited his long hair into a single braid. “Before the humans. We’ll be able to tell for sure once we’re down there.”

  Johari asked, “Do you want me along?”

  Kadek shook his head. “We’re not moving anything tonight. We’re just going to get the lay of the ocean floor. You may be comfortable in the water, but you don’t draw strength from it like you used to. Save your energy for the heavy lifting.”

  Ben watched Johari’s reaction, keen to discover any ulterior motive since Tenzin had warned him, but he detected nothing. Not agreement with Kadek’s order. Not impatience. Not disappointment. Wherever she’d gotten her poker face, it was professional level.

  The two water vampires dove over the edge of the boat and disappeared into the darkness of the night sea.

  Ben strolled over to Fabia, who was stationed at a mobile monitor of some kind, and bumped her shoulder. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” She looked up. “You weren’t around today.”

  He glanced at Tenzin, who was watching the surface of the water intently. “I was around.”

  Fabia followed his eyes. “Ah. And how is that going?”

  He shrugged. “It’s nothing. We’re avoiding anything disagreeable right now.”

  “Avoidance. The strategy of every healthy relationship,” she muttered. “How long do you think you can continue that?”

  “Me? Maybe to the end of this job. Her? Probably another thousand years.”

  “She is such a vampire.” Fabia picked up the microphone and spoke into it. “Kadek, can you hear me?”

  Ben frowned. “You have a radio on him?”

  “Uhhh.” Fabia fiddled with some knobs. “Kind of? It’s something we’re trying. He can’t speak to me because he doesn’t have any air down there, but he has a camera and a waterproof whiteboard. The camera is not part of the Nocht system, so we will see if it holds up or if he shorts it out.”

  A flickering image came on the screen.

  “Look at that.” Fabia pointed to the screen. “Ben, are you seeing this? That’s the ship. It’s definitely the ship.”

  Ben leaned closer to the monitor. “It looks like coral and rocks.”

  It was hard to see anything in the darkness, but the narrow glow of Kadek’s flashlight illuminated craggy shapes and shadows.

  “No,” Johari interjected. “I can see it. The coral is only on the surface.” Her hand moved to the monitor, but she drew back when the picture began to flicker. “What did I do?”

  “You’re fine, you’re fine.” Fabia waved Johari’s hand away. “Just stay back and look.” She clicked on the walkie-talkie again. “Kadek, can you point the camera down a bit?”

  Ben asked, “What are you looking for?”

  “That.” She pointed to the screen. “Look at where it’s lying. It’s not sand; it’s sediment. At least half that ship looks like it has been preserved in sediment, which means the oxygen won’t have had a chance to work on it, which means we’re looking at intact artifacts.”

  “That’s excellent news.” Ben looked at Tenzin. “Is sediment enough to protect steel from decaying?”

  Tenzin looked skeptical. “Is it magic sediment?”

  “No, Tiny, I’m pretty sure this is just normal sediment.”

  “Then no.”

  “Great.”

  Fabia brought the walkie-talkie up again. “Kadek, can you swim the length of the hull? Give us an idea how big it is?”

  A few moments later, Kadek began to move through the dark ocean, the light and camera held in front of him, and Ben, Tenzin, Johari, and Fabia were able to see the full scope of the site they would be in charge of excavating.

  “You know, twenty meters doesn’t seem all that big when you’re talking about it,” Ben muttered. “But in reality—”

  “It’s massive,” Fabia said.

  “Is it longer than twenty meters?” Johari cocked her head. “Twenty-five perhaps?”

  Fabia spoke into the walkie-talkie. “Kadek, how long is it? Over twenty meters?”

  A hand moved in front of the camera and gave a thumbs-up.

  “More than twenty-five?”

  The hand turned the thumb down.

  “Okay,” Fabia said. “So between twenty and twenty-five meters, which fits what the sonar measured. I mean, the bow is pretty wrecked, so there’s no way of measuring for sure. There could be a large amount of cargo in that space if enough of the hold was buried, but we won’t know for some time. We’re fortunate that it is not in deeper water.”

  Tenzin took a long breath. “How careful do we have to be?”

  “Very careful,” Fabia said. “This wreck is vital to creating a narrative of trade between the Middle East and Asia. It’s part of the maritime Silk Road and—”

  “Fabi, as soon as rumors about this get out,” Ben said, “there will be looters every day and every night.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “This isn’t a flooded city or dock. This is literally a treasure ship, and everything in that cargo hold is probably valuable.”

  She made a small noise that sounded like a wounded puppy.

  Tenzin said, “The only advantage we have is that we have both human and vampire crews. We’ll need to work as fast as possible.”

  Johari concurred. “A find like this is like blood in the water for our kind. Unknown treasure that is less accessible to humans and without any official provenance? This wreck is worth tens of millions of dollars in immortal circles. That’s a conservative guess.”

  Ben tried to reassure Fabia. “We’re going to preserve as much as possible. We’re going to give the university team access as long as we can. We’re going to take tons of pictures and document everything. But the priority on this trip isn’t preserving a shipwreck, it’s retrieving a valuable artifact for its rightful owner. Don’t forget that.”

  She bit her knuckle. “Ben, there’s so much here. The ship, the artifacts, even the position and location of the wreck tells a story.”

  “And you and the university crew will be able to read that story. But we’re taking the cargo out. We have to. Otherwise, it’ll all be gone.”

  18

  Cheng ran a towel over his hair, drying his long locks as Tenzin lounged on the small sofa in the captain’s quarters, which had been retrofitted for vampire safety. She stared out the broad windows he could enjoy when he wasn’t locked in the compact and lightproof stateroom he’d had customized for the journey.

  Cheng definitely had the best view. Tenzin supposed those were the perks of paying for the expedition.
r />   “I just received a message from Jonathan.” Cheng tapped on the tablet lying on his desk. “Your father is at your house.”

  Tenzin sat up. “What?”

  “He alerted Jonathan to his presence but said he wouldn’t be coming into the city so…” Cheng shrugged. “There’s not much I can do about it. We agreed centuries ago that your village west of the city is neutral ground between my territory and Penglai.”

  “Technically, all of Shanghai is in Penglai’s territory.”

  The look Cheng sent her was unamused.

  Tenzin lay back down on the couch. “I’m just saying…”

  “You sound so American now.”

  “Do I?”

  “Yes.” Cheng stripped off his wet pants and put on a pair of dry trousers. “This job is going to be more complicated with the university crew.”

  “Meaning you can’t just grab what you want and take off with it?”

  “We never destroyed things.” Cheng’s voice was sharp. “Those ships are the graves of my allies and enemies. I do not desecrate the resting place of the dead.”

  “But neither were you going to let their riches rot beneath the waves.” She swung her legs back and forth. “I don’t suppose you set up a square-meter grid over it and meticulously documented every shell you found?”

  “No, we did not.” He pulled on a shirt and walked over to sit next to her. “Why is your father watching us, Cricket?”

  “I don’t know.” She was tempted to fly back and find out but wasn’t sure she wanted to spend the day in the same house as her sire. He always wanted to talk about her life. It was annoying. “I can call Jinpa.”

  “Jinpa won’t know.” Cheng lifted her feet and rubbed her ankles. “You didn’t ask him to come?”

  “Does that sound like something I’d do?”

  “Maybe if you didn’t trust those you were working with…” Cheng gripped her ankles in firm hands. “Don’t you trust me?”