Chapter Seven, the Book of Dreams
The Book of Dreams series, in which Kira and the Z'Dhia get their first real break in tracking down the volume of the Book of Dreams, but encounter their first major disagreement.
Read from the beginning if you haven’t already with Chapter 1 of the Book of. Dreams.
If Kira had known that walking was a prerequisite for her new assignment, she would have worn more appropriate footwear. The standard-issue boots she received after her swearing in should have been the first clue. Her uniform, with its thick and unbreathable synthetic fabric, was bad enough. The clunky, flat-heeled, square-toed boots cheapened the entire effect. Choosing style over pragmatism, she wore the pair in her own wardrobe instead––three-inch heel boots with pointed toes that she had gotten on a shopping spree at the Trading Center with Lailani and Dada. Now Kira was paying the price for her vanity. It wasn't her fault entirely. She assumed she'd be traveling in normal modes of transport, certainly not one that could cross time and space and was only accessible through particular circumstances.
Kira and the Z'Dhia trudged through the narrow, winding streets, pushing past crowds, dodging AV scooters and tracking down each of the locations where Volume 143 had been last. They entered small, dark bookshops, little hovels hidden between buildings, and trader's stalls on side streets. While the Z'Dhia scanned the environment with The Key, Kira asked questions about Varmitians and Najiumian delivery boys. None of the vendors were eager to talk. Since their trade depended on having sterling reputations, any suggestion that they were being investigated was enough to sink business. Their reputations were all they had in the way of branding. So once Kira flashed her badge, she could see the doors slamming shut in their faces. As the hours passed, it was clear to both Kira and the Z'Dhia that T'Millvorkha Kaphra had been their best chance at getting answers, and he either didn't know or refused to say.
When the sun was at its zenith and the heat miserable, Kira all but begged for a break. Sweat drenched her back and underarms and her toes pinched darts of pain up her thighs. She had lost count the number of times she needed to rest. The Z'Dhia didn't complain, though given how much she bragged about her diplomatic skills she wondered why he didn't at least cast a few smug grins her way. As she sat down on the edge of a fountain and kneaded her toes, she jokingly asked if he had another pair of shoes in his satchel. She half expected him to pull out a pair of appropriately attired boots. Instead he offered her a sympathetic look.
They were silent for a few moments as she kneaded her aching feet, before she asked how many locations were left on his list. They had visited seven so far, and another eight were waiting. Much to Kira's dismay, each were scattered throughout various points in the district.
"I suppose it would be asking too much to just open a portal."
He smiled. "It looks like you've gotten used to traveling by the nRoom sooner than I thought. I'm afraid we'll have to limit ourselves to terrestrial travel for the time being. Not until I find the volume."
"Oh, well, it didn't hurt to ask."
"How are your feet?"
"Much better."
"Good." He offered his hand. "I don't want to waste any more time. I need to find out who has that volume before its too late."
She grasped his hand and allowed herself to be lifted to her feet. "You're worried about who might have it, aren't you?"
"I'm always worried." He smiled. "The sooner I get the volume back to Idris-Sarra, the more relieved I will be."
She nodded, though she wasn't entirely convinced that something more troubling wasn't worrying him. It was obvious that this Varmitian had intentions with the volume that went beyond a simple trade.
"All right, but please tell me the next spot is nearby."
He grinned as he glanced down at The Key. "As a matter of fact, it's only a few kilometers away."
Their next location wasn't a shop, a hovel, or even an outdoor stall, but a small alcove in a building located at the end of a long, crowded side street. An old Adernite, sitting cross-legged on a mat, operated it. At first glance, he appeared to be a beggar. He wore brown rags that hung loosely off his lean frame, kept his head bowed, and draped his four arms across his distended belly. Wiry, gray hairs poked out of his jawline and skull like weeds in a plot of dirt. Behind him n the alcove were stacks of manuscripts, yellowed with age and bound with string.
The Z'Dhia addressed him first. "Are you a bookseller?"
The question was obvious enough that the vendor jabbed his thumb behind him and replied, "Those not for decoration."
The rest of the interview went roughly in the same vein. At least before the Z'Dhia revealed himself by removing the hood from his head. The Adernite seemed more amenable then, though his answers were no less helpful. When they asked about the Varmitian and the Betan, he either shrugged or mumbled something neither Kira nor the Z'Dhia could hear in the noisy street. He changed the subject by offering them copies of the manuscripts, such as The History of the Ro Kan Empire, Vol. 15 or The Guide to the Great Wonders of Aderna, behind him. When they showed no interest in a trade, he dismissed them with a wave of three hands and lowered his head.
"I have nothing more to say to you then."
Convinced they were getting nowhere, Kira gestured with her eyes that they should leave, but the Z'Dhia wasn't ready to give up. He reached into his satchel and pulled out an aluminum coin that he showed to the vendor. The harsh sunlight fell in a slant over a terrace roof and cut across the street. It struck and glared against the coin. The vendor's eyes grew lustily in size. The gesture alone was enough to communicate the terms of agreement. Kira took the Z'Dhia aside and reminded him that as a field agent she was prohibited from extracting information for payment during an investigation, a problem the Z'Dhia immediately corrected by buying a copy of The History of the Ro Kan Empire, Vol. 15.
The Adernite was only marginally more helpful. He admitted that many months ago, a Varmitian and a Betan did indeed approach him about trade for a manuscript of translations.
"In Old Idris-Sarran," said the Z'Dhia.
The vendor smiled. "Yes."
When the Z'Dhia asked if he did business with them, he sniffed. There were no books on translating that old, dead language. Though, he added greedily, if he did have a copy of the Book of Dreams he would not have thought twice about trading with the Varmitian. "But," he said with a shrug as his gaze lingered on Kira's IPPA insignia, "that is not the modern way, is it?"
Kira smirked and pegged the man as an underground trader.
The Z'Dhia asked the vendor if names were exchanged. Names might have been exchanged, particularly with the Betan, but the Adernite's memory, in its old age, was very poor and he could not remember with certainty what was exchanged between the three. Perhaps, he said with a greedy glint in his eyes, his memory needed further stimulation.
Shrewdly narrowing his eyes, the Z'Dhia reached into his satchel again and pulled out another coin. Kira insisted that another legitimate trade be offered, but the Z'Dhia balked. "The trade is for information only."
"Then I can't allow this," Kira said.
The Z'Dhia palmed the coin in his hand, then glanced from the expectant Adernite to Kira. Raising one eyebrow, he asked Kira if those regulations pertained to her. "Yes, of course, they're part of the protocols for agents in the field."
"Agents in the field," he said. "But I'm not an agent, am I?"
"No," said the Adernite, clasping his hands together. "Indeed, it is clear you are not."
Kira crossed her arms, astounded by his hubris. She had accepted this assignment fully aware that his unconventional methods clashed with IPPA's orthodoxy. That she was prepared for. What she wasn't prepared for was the possibility that it might clash with her responsibilities. As she watched the Z'Dhia entice a witness, she began to question what those responsibilities actually were.
He lowered himself to his haunches and waved the coin in the Adernite's face. When the vendor went to grab it, the Z'Dhia snatched it away. The old man looked stunned, then resentful. "Tell me what you know first, then you'll receive payment."
The vendor raised his brow, perhaps impressed by the Z'Dhia's shrewdness, then conceded to the offer. He explained that though he was unable to trade with the Varmitian, he agreed to make inquiries with other traders. The Betan did most of the speaking––"The Varmitian looked like he was going to topple over like a great binyar tree! I don't think he favored the smelly crowds"––and it was he who gave the vendor an address where he and the Varmitian could be contacted. "It is in a compound, tucked in the foothills beneath the Gurah Mountains. It is called Pazza Nuur."
The Z'Dhia placed the coin in the Adernite's hand, then walked away, the Adernite's hearty laughter trailing behind him.
Kira raced after the Z'Dhia. "You know I'll have to write this up in my field report," she huffed.
"You do what you think is best," he said flatly.
He tossed the manuscript he bought from the vendor beneath the wheels of the cart a young Najiumian woman trundled past them, her pots and urns rattling noisily as the wheels crushed the pages over the roughhewn and uneven pavement, then removed The Key from his cloak and began scrolling for data.
Kira bristled. "I better handle the interviews from now on."
He regarded her with a blank expression. "As you wish."
The crowds flowed past them. A scooter carrying two passengers careened through the street. Above a gyro transport zipped through the air, hovering for a few seconds before it disappeared behind a row of buildings.
"What are you looking at?"
"According to the data, the Transdimensional Coordinator didn't pick up any traces of Volume 143 to Pazza Nuur, which only means that whoever had it wasn't storing the volume at the compound. Or at least not long enough to leave sample traces. Either that––"
"Either that or what?" She shielded her eyes against the glare of the sun.
"He could have teleported it somewhere else from the compound. That would explain the strange readings the Transdimensional Coordinator has been getting. It could also explain why The Key didn't pick up any traces either."
"If he has a teleporter, then we could trace the signals where the last material shipment was transmitted. That ought to give us some more clues about where and who this guy is."
A glimmer of a smile appeared on the Z'Dhia's lips, but it soon faded. What's wrong, Kira asked; he did not reply.
The crow with more traders as they moved from west to east, pulling along carts or carrying rucksacks full of goods. The sun was moving in the opposite direction, casting long shadows from the tall buildings on either side of the street. Evening was going to fall soon.
"We need to get to Pazza Nuur right away." He returned the hood to his head and weaved silently through the crowd.
In Chapter Eight, Kira and the Z’Dhia head to Pazza Nuur. Will they find out the identity of the Varmitian who now has the volume? And what will they encounter once they get to the compound? Discover these questions by clicking the link below. And if you haven’t already, please become a free or paid subscriber and help support my work.