Booker went cold and nearly stopped walking. “How do you know that?”
“Because I’ve read his writing before. I didn’t make the connection until his daughter showed up.”
Booker was silent as he mulled over this new bit of information. It had that feel to it, like the soft chiming of a distant bell that told Booker he was on the right track. More intuition than anything. It also pointed towards a possibility, one that had occurred to him while talking to Estelle on the train. He’d filed it into the Implausible section of his brain; now, however, he was finding it more difficult to ignore.
Ibis knew about Martin Kingston, about Pharos and Radical Dynamics. Following their activities, by the sound of it. He learned about their arrangement with Ethiopia, about their contract to relocate the Ark. Then Martin Kingston gets sick and dies -- out of the blue, same as Jane Baum -- and suddenly Ibis falls into possession of the man’s research? It would have been one hell of a coincidence if it hadn’t smelled so suspicious.
He glanced over his shoulder. Estelle and Berhanu were walking steadily a few paces behind, heads down, looking exhausted. He wondered what it would do to her if she found out. If he was right. If Martin Kingston had indeed been murdered, would that alleviate some of the guilt she was carrying? Because he knew it was there, weighing her down -- it had always been there, ever since he’d known her. A sense of responsibility.
She’d figure out a way to make it her fault, Booker thought sadly. To convince herself there was something she could have done.
All this, of course, was assuming her dad had been killed. Estelle said it had been malaria, combined with his preexisting conditions. But then, the doctors in Detroit had claimed that Jane Baum had developed hypoglycemia overnight.
“I’m going to need those Kingston documents,” Booker said. “All of them.”
“Can’t.” Álvarez said.
“What? Why?”
“Ibis gave them an expiration date. We had just enough time to look them over before they erased themselves.”
Booker swore. “Maybe they can be recovered from your device…”
“You’ll need a warrant for that.”
Which Booker very much doubted he would be able to get. Not until they were back in the States and he’d been able to smooth things over with Helen, at any rate. “Those documents could lead us back to Ibis, to who he works for, to whoever is behind these murders. Do I really need to explain why that’s in your best interest?”
“No,” Álvarez said curtly. “I’m just saying. Let’s do this by the book, Special Agent.”
“You don’t --” Booker caught himself. Don’t let him get to you. He drew a steadying breath. “Fine. Everything will be airtight, I assure you.” Somehow.
“Glad to hear it.”
* * *
When they came to it, the end of the valley seemed was sudden. They rounded a bend, and then the oppressive mountain walls fell away, and they were looking down on a vast plain. Hills and bluffs dotted it like solitary whales breaching the open ocean -- and there were lights. Twinkling like ancient campfires, separated by gulfs of darkness -- farms, most likely, or small outlier communities.
And on the horizon, glowing like Oz itself, a city. Axum.
“Finally,” Estelle sighed, breath misting before her.
It was maybe three or four miles off. Less than an hour’s walk if they kept up a decent pace. Rick started down the slope that led out of the mountains. “Hold up,” Hopkins said. “This seems like a good place to make camp.”
Rick rounded on him. “What’re you talking about?”
“We’re all running on fumes here. We can grab a couple hours’ rest, then move into the city with clearer heads.”
“No,” Rick said. “We go now, while it’s still dark.”
“Look at them,” Hopkins said in a low voice, moving closer. He pointed to Estelle and Berhanu, both of whom were swaying on their feet. “They won’t make it another mile.”
“Then they can stay behind.” Rick hefted his pack higher onto his shoulders. “Kai and I will go do the heavy lifting. That was always going to be the plan, right?”
“We stick together,” Hopkins said firmly. “No one is going anywhere until we’ve all gotten some rest. A few hours. It’ll still be dark.”
“He’s right,” Kai said. “Come on, Rick, you know you’re tired. We go rushing into Axum now, we’ll probably just screw the whole thing up.”
It was clear that there would be no arguing. Kai was unshouldering his pack, and both Estelle and Berhanu had already sat down and looked close to drifting off. Rick sighed, dropping his pack beside the twisted trunk of a dried-out tree. “Fine. Two hours, then we go. I’m setting an alarm. And no fires,” he said sharply. Berhanu looked like he had been about to make a suggestion. The curator closed his mouth, frowning, and stretched out on the ground.
“Waste of time,” Rick muttered, as Kai settled down next to him, backpack beneath his head. “What good are two hours going to do?” He rolled onto his side, trying to find a comfortable spot between the knobby roots of the tree. “As if anyone’s even going to get any sleep out here.”
“Did those documents really delete themselves?” Kai asked quietly.
Rick made sure to check that Hopkins wasn’t nearby before answering. “Of course not. I’ve still got them on my laptop.”
He could tell by the shimmer of Kai’s eyes that he was frowning. “Then why lie?”
“Dunno. Principle? If we’ve got some sort of leverage, why give it up right away?”
“If Booker is right, and Ibis really does want us dead --”
“He’s not going to kill us before we’ve gotten him the Ark.”
“That doesn’t solve anything.”
“Sure it does. All we have to do is make sure he never gets the Ark.”
Kai’s frown deepened, his eyes narrow slits of glass now. “What’re you talking about? I thought the plan was to lure him out?”
“Well, that’s what I told Hopkins, yeah. But I’m saying we find a different buyer. Someone who doesn’t want to melt our faces off. We’ll be able to set our own price, too. This is an improvement, Kai. Trust me.”
It was a moment before Kai spoke. “So we’re not going to help catch the people who put our names on a hitlist.”
“Come on. You know we can’t help the FBI. The Club would burn us. Once we get paid, we can relocate, pull out some of our older aliases. Disappear. It’ll be fine.”
“And what about Berhanu and Estelle?”
“Don’t worry, I still intend to cash in that bonus.”
“You said they’d get the Ark back once Booker got Ibis.”
Rick shifted onto his back. There really was no comfort to be had on the hard ground. “Maybe we’ll sell it back to them. I’m sure Radical Dynamics could foot the bill.”
* * *
Estelle had been dreaming about chasing Toulouse down an endless set of train tracks with an awful rumbling close behind her, when she awoke with a start. It took a few moments of blinking stupidly before she could make out the shape of the bodies lying around her, the tree Rick and Kai had settled down beneath. Someone was snoring, a sound suspiciously like that from her dream. She wasn’t certain how long she’d been asleep, but she felt wide awake, as if something had shocked her --
Thunder growled, rolling over the mountains and down into the valley. Great. Rain, that was just what this trip needed. She glanced up at the sky and was startled to see an expanse of stars. It was perfectly clear, not a cloud in sight.
She stood, her feet still sore from walking, and picked her way carefully around the sleeping bodies to the edge of the valley. Here she could see the mountain range stretching off to either side, immense walls of darkness like the frozen waves of a massive tsunami. It afforded her a clear view of the horizon on three cardinal points. There were no clouds in any direction.
The thunder came again. There was an odd muffled quality to it, less a boom t
han a sort of crump-wump. Before its echoes had faded there came another peal, and then another, and another.
Estelle gasped softly. The horizon off to her right flashed with strobe-like bursts, each one followed by that same crump-wump. Beneath it she could hear other sounds. A staccato rattling, sharp cracks and reports. The edge of the sky continued to flash as if a distant firework show were reaching its climax.
“Looks like the rebels are closer than we thought.”
She just stopped herself from screaming. Rick had somehow snuck up on her without making a sound. He stood beside her, little more than a wiry silhouette, watching the same horizon. Immediately she wanted to move away, to have nothing to do with him and his lies. But the thought of returning to the darkness and listening to the distant sounds of battle alone was hardly more attractive.
“How far off do you think it is?” she asked, somewhat grudgingly.
Rick was silent for a moment, still watching the horizon. Finally he said, “Ten miles, give or take.”
That was a lot closer than Estelle was comfortable with. “What do we do if the fighting makes its way here?”
“Move fast and try not to get shot.”
She glanced at him. “This is all just business as usual for you, isn’t it? Pretending to be someone else, lying to get what you want?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“Doesn’t matter who gets hurt along the way.”
Rick gave her a look of feigned shock. “How can you say that? I’m very concerned about whether or not I get shot.” His wristband started to buzz and chime softly. Rick clapped his hands and began speaking loudly, making her jump again. “Rise and shine, folks! Nap time’s over!”
Grumbles answered from the darkness. Rick went to collect his things; Estelle remained where she was for the moment, still watching the horizon. The flashes had died down, and soon they had stopped completely. The last echo of a bomb or a shell or whatever rolled over the mountains. It had all lasted only a few minutes. She tried to contextualize what she had just seen. Somewhere not too far from here, people had fought furiously. Many had probably lost their lives in a single moment of shocking violence. It didn’t feel real, here, where the only light came from the stars and the only sounds were of crickets in the brush and soft whispers behind her.
Booker appeared at her side, carrying her duffel. “Ready?” She nodded. “You know, you can still hang back. This seems like a safe enough spot --”
“I’m going, Booker.” She took her duffel from him, apprehension falling to the back of her mind. “Thank you.”
“Once we’re in the city,” Rick said as they grouped together, “Berhanu can lead us straight to the church. Stick to alleyways, side-streets. Less obvious routes. Kai will find us a vehicle, and I’ll pop in and grab the Ark.” He glanced at his wristband. “We should still be able to get out of here before dawn.”
“As soon as I get a signal,” Estelle said, “I can contact Pharos. They’ll be able to tell us what to do next, arrange transport back to Addis --”
“No need,” Rick cut in. “We’ll handle that.”
“Last time you said that, we ended up in the back of an ice cream truck.”
“But we did get here.”
“I think,” Booker said, before an argument could take shape, “it’s best if we hold off on contacting anyone until I’ve spoken with the Bureau. We’re still flying by the seat of our pants here. Let’s just take it slow.”
She shrugged. “Fine. But you’ll need to speak to Radical Dynamics eventually.”
“Enough talking about talking,” Rick said. “Let’s move it, people.”
They started down the slope, leaving the mountains behind and entering the wide plains. Rick distributed more rations for them to chew on as they walked. There wasn’t much to see, save for the darker mounds of the hills and bluffs and the lone light of a distant farmhouse. Axum remained directly ahead, glowing softly.
“Was that gunfire earlier?” Kai asked, as they trekked across what must have been a field, but was now little more than furrows of dried mud.
“Yeah,” Rick said. “Sounded close.”
“The military is routing the terrorists,” Berhanu said. “Perhaps the conflict will be at an end soon.”
“Wonder if they’ll catch K’ebero,” Kai mused.
Estelle glanced towards his hulking silhouette. “Who’s K’ebero?”
“A myth,” Berhanu answered. “Invented by the terrorists to spread fear and confuse the military. He does not exist.”
“Not according to some kids back in Addis Ababa,” Rick said. “They thought he was plenty real. Seemed to regard him as something of a Robin Hood. Fighting the power, freeing the oppressed, blah blah.”
Estelle had the distinct impression that he was trying to get under Berhanu’s skin. “They are misguided children,” the curator said shortly, refusing to be baited.
The plains around Axum may have been farmland at one point, but they now hosted little more than mud and dirt. Distantly she heard the bored lowing of oxen, so there must have been verdant pasture or hay somewhere. But she could see no crops to speak of. Only the dried stalks that jutted up from the mud like bristles indicated that this land had once been fertile.
Soon they left the dead fields behind, crossing a dried ditch to a narrow road. This wound its way between two looming hills and over a gentle rise, before finally connecting to what looked like a main highway that led into Axum.
“Jesus,” Booker breathed.
Here, finally, was evidence that the war had made its way to Axum. The two-lane highway was packed with the abandoned carcasses of burnt-out vehicles. An overturned bus cut across both lanes, with cars and trucks piled up on either side. There was a smell, made sharp by the cool air, of oil and metal and something subtler, fouler.
“What’re we walking into?” Booker asked Berhanu quietly.
“It was not this bad the last time I was here,” the curator said, sounding shaken. “There had been skirmishes on the outskirts of the city, brief exchanges over different suburbs. But this -- I do not know what caused this.”
“Military must’ve been through here since the last time you came north,” Kai said. “Those cars weren’t just abandoned, they’re barricades. Keep infantry from rolling in, force them into bottlenecks and chokepoints. Could be IEDs in there.”
For a moment nobody moved. In the silence Estelle could almost imagine she heard the metal husks creak and groan as if haunted.
Rick nodded. “Right. We’ll follow the road, but stay off it until we reach the city.”
Axum was now only a mile or so off. Only a few bright spots shone against the night sky, and several of them had the flickering quality of firelight. There was no smoke in the sky, so she could only assume they were controlled fires. It didn’t make her feel any safer as they filed towards the city.
“What the hell did this?” Kai asked. They had come to a section of highway where the concrete was split, great chunks buckling up against each other. A fissure extended out perpendicular to the highway, cutting across their path.
“This was not the war,” Berhanu said. “It was an earthquake, aftershocks of the Erta Ale eruption, in the Afar Depression to the east.”
“Must’ve been one hell of a boom,” Rick said.
“It was. Ash rained in the highlands for weeks, choking out farmland that was already struggling to survive the drought.” His tone darkened. “The so-called Free Army arose not long after. They said Addis Ababa had abandoned those regions most heavily affected by the eruption.”
“Taking advantage of the catastrophe to get a foothold,” Booker said. “Leave it to humans to make a bad situation worse.”
“And did they?” Rick asked.
Berhanu turned to him. “Did who what?”
“Did Addis Ababa abandon the regions covered in ash?”
The curator’s voice tightened. “It was very chaotic. Refugees were flooding south, which added strain
to emergency services and made it more difficult to send aid north. By the time large-scale efforts could be organized, the Free Army had already dug in. Relief missions were attacked.”
“So you gave up.”
“It was not that simple!”
“Of course not. But still, you gave up.” Rick spoke matter-of-factly, but there was a different sort of edge to his voice.
Berhanu was glaring at him, too angry to speak. Estelle pushed her way between them. “Let’s keep moving. You still want to get to the Ark before dawn, don’t you?”
* * *
Just outside of Axum, Rick tossed the small drone into the air. It came to life with a frantic buzz, the sound fading as it quickly ascended into the darkened sky. Over his shoulder, Estelle watched on his wristband as the city shrank to the size of a model.
“It doesn’t look so bad,” she said as she watched the neighborhoods and city blocks scrolled past. “No fires or -- oh.”
The drone passed over what looked like an entire city block that had collapsed, leaving a gaping hole in the grid of Axum. More signs of warfare revealed themselves as the drone moved east: a barricade of vehicles, a burned mass that might at one time have been an open market, a community of tents and shanties.
“Definitely a lot of recent fighting,” Kai said. “Could be good news. Might mean the Free Army already got pushed out of the city.”
“Hopefully,” Rick said. “We’ll try to avoid the city center, anyway. That’s where things look the shittiest. Hopefully the church is in better condition…”
It was revealed minutes later, a walled complex with a large domed structure surrounded by smaller buildings. “Looks untouched,” Booker noted.
Rick dropped the drone lower, bringing it to only a few feet above the towering trees. The church grounds did indeed appear to be wholly intact.
“Well, that’s some good news.” Rick brought the drone to hover above a small rectangular building beside the large central church. “That’s the Ark sanctuary. Still standing. Might have been easier if it wasn’t.”
“We are not going to pillage the Ark of the Covenant from the ruins of the sanctuary,” Berhanu said angrily. “We must speak with the Kohen and obtain his blessing --”
A Covenant of Thieves Page 33
