The Topaz Operation Read online

  Rez crawled through tall grass and crept to the edge of the clearing for a better view. Two bulky mining cranes dug into the ground while about twenty infantry stood guard. A space freighter—almost certainly Jez’s based on the flight log info—rested on the ground just behind the cranes, ready to receive its cargo. More troops than usual. Must be something dear to Aqtal’s heart.

  A crane lifted up a mound of dirt topped with sparkling sharp objects and dropped them into a large filtering apparatus extending from the ship’s cargo hold. The dirt dropped out the bottom, leaving only the gemstones sparkling through holes in the mesh container.

  Diamonds, no question.

  A muscular figure with short brown hair walked around the freighter and, along with two officers, inspected the container.

  Rez gasped. It’s him! He fought the urge to burst out after Jez, but Rez was not the warrior he once was. Though still highly trained and talented, an entire platoon of troops was a bit much to handle. He must somehow get Jez alone.

  The cargo hold pulled the container inside on a conveyor and the door closed up behind it. Jez entered the ship through the side entrance and red exterior lights began blinking.

  Launch prep! He’s taking off any minute. Rez sprinted back toward his ship.

  * * *

  Rez found his leaping ability returning as he leapt eight feet up and slid into his ship’s cockpit under the pre-opened canopy. Panting and sweating, he fired up the engines. The ship busted through the forest roof, breaking several trees on the way up. He ran the sensor sweep and found his target: Archon T-class freighter, departed six minutes prior. He cranked up the speed as far as it could go and blazed a path over the forest, throwing all caution to the wind. Within seconds he had a visual. Jez’s ship passed over the forest toward the beach and ramped upward for the ascent to space.

  Thirty-foot-tall ancient statues lined the beach for miles. Some of the statues may have been wizards, others soldiers; time’s deterioration made it hard to tell. Rez didn’t have time to study them at the moment as he was gaining on Jez. He tried the comm, but as expected this ship could use only encrypted channels. There was no way his freighter would catch Jez in space, and he couldn’t follow him to Amethyst either. He was forced to try the last remaining option.

  Rez squeezed the cannon trigger. The left cannon sputtered ineffectively, but the right squirted out a couple purple-hued blasts missing Jez wide right. His brief free time on Chrysolite was spent making sure the ship could merely take off. He hadn’t had time for the weapons, but his pitiful shots had an effect. Jez’s ship dived downward toward the beach. Rez followed and fired a few more blasts. One shot nicked the left aft corner.

  Jez’s freighter swooped upward in a tight move and passed over Rez. Rez tried to out maneuver him, but his older ship wasn’t up to it and stalled. Cursing the engines, he finally regained limited control.

  Incoming blasts sent Rez into a tail spin, spiraling his ship down toward the beach. Before he crashed, he pushed open the canopy, gathered his strength, and sang. He leapt high into the air, did a full flip and landed on Jez’s ship’s hull just as it passed by. Rez’s ship crashed through a soldier’s statue on the beach, impacted the sand and flipped several times before crashing to a halt, throwing sand in a thousand directions.

  A roof hatch opened and there was Jez, his mouth contorted with anger and confusion. His soft eyes betrayed compassion, yet with an urgent sense of mission. “What are you doing?”

  “Brother, we must talk!” said Rez, gripping tightly a dorsal fin.

  A piece of machinery shifted from Jez’s back, moved down his right arm, and encircled his right hand and wrist. He pointed it straight at Rez and said, “Fire!”

  Rez’s right arm flashed toward Jez, shoving Jez’s arm away as a deafening sound wave discharged from the weapon. Rez’s footing slipped, but he locked a vice grip on Jez’s arm and pulled Jez out of the ship down with him. They tumbled onto the beach between two tall statues near the water’s edge. Jez’s freighter, still being piloted, circled around the beach.

  Jez jumped to his feet. “There’s nothing to talk about. Fire!” A sound wave—a pointed, bubble-like field of clear energy—launched out of his arm cannon.

  Rez rolled out of its way as the wave smashed through the statue behind him. He dodged falling pieces as they rained down, several larger chunks sticking into the sand around him. “I ask you, brother, what are you doing? Serving Aqtal?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Of course I would, you fool! Do you realize who you’re speaking to?”

  Jez pointed his arm at Rez, preparing again to fire. Clearly talking was not going anywhere. Rez raised his arms, whistled at an extremely high pitch, and spat out a tune. Wind off the ocean swirled around Jez, spinning him through the air and smacking his back against a statue. Jez, winded, slid to the ground.

  Rez kneeled and touched his left ear which smarted from his own attack. His quick-conjured song was a bigger bite than he could chew, sucking energy out of him. He was forced to pause to gather composure.

  His next sight was a boot in his face.

  The bottom of Jez’s iron boot bloodied Rez’s nose and flung him backward, splashing onto the shoreline. With two fingers he felt his blood—the first time touching his own blood in two years, with the exception of his galacnote message to his mother.

  One last ploy. Rez rolled into his stomach and secretly pulled out a dagger. With a flash he turned and heaved the dagger at Jez which he dodged, but the knife sliced Jez’s exposed left bicep. Rez leapt up and pressed his blood-covered fingers into the slice. Jez growled in pain, whacked Rez across the face hard with his arm weapon, and pushed him into oncoming ocean waves. The waves broke over him, flinging him face forward into wet, mushy sand. The blurred sight through water of Jez running away was the last thing Rez saw for a while.

  Chapter 33

  On the ground floor of Sienna’s library, Aphiemi paged through an old hardcover—an atlas of the Zoain system with hand-drawn pictures and notes of the system. “This must have been done before the Archon took over.”

  Qusam occupied a large wooden desk nearby with two books laid open before him and a few unrolled scrolls held open by other books. Fully immersed in his research, he didn’t respond.

  Aphiemi shrugged it off. She came across a page with a beautiful painting of Ochuroma Palace and the Glowing Tree in front, shimmering prominently. The artist highlighted the tree with special attention to its fluorescent green hue. It puzzled Aphiemi that no one in history had figured out how to explain something so simple. The sound of the library’s door sliding open interrupted the tomb-like silence.

  Ryle bounced down the steps to their level. “Hey, you guys okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t we be?” said Aphiemi.

  “Just checking. I took a peek outside at the perimeter, didn’t see any activity.”

  “Good, thank you. I didn’t mean to snap at you. For some reason I feel safer here than just about anywhere.”

  “In my line of work, I never feel safe.”

  “Look at these maps. Aren’t they amazing?”

  Ryle flipped through a few pages of the atlas. “Too bad we can’t borrow some of these books. My mother would love this. You all right, Q?”

  Qusam, without looking up, mumbled an affirmative response. “Mmmhmm.”

  “He’s been in the zone,” said Aphiemi.

  “He’s good at that.”

  Sienna descended the steps and joined them. “Enjoying the collection?”

  “Immensely,” said Aphiemi.

  “These books are precious,” said Sienna, eyeing the collection with love. “There are many people out there who want them destroyed, who want to quell all voices contrary to the way they think, as if the act of even listening is dangerous. Knowledge, while it is not the only thing that matters, is a crucial aspect of a healthy society.”

  “I could not have it said it better,” said Aphiemi.<
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  Ryle pointed to an area covering two desks which contained pieces and scraps of books, paper, glue, and binding materials. “What is this section?”

  “Ah, the restoration area,” said Sienna.

  Aphiemi’s eyebrows raised. She was impressed at Ryle noticing this before she did.

  “Any books, scrolls, etc. we rescue from Archon butchery, I do my best to restore them to their proper condition. It’s a long, meticulous process but well worth it. One of my favorite activities, actually.”

  “Marvelous,” said Aphiemi.

  “Aphiemi, would you care to join me now, alone?” asked Sienna.

  “Of course.” Aphiemi followed Sienna down the aisle toward the door.

  “I guess I’ll just hang out in here,” said Ryle.

  “We won’t be too long, Ryle,” said Sienna.

  * * *

  Sienna led Aphiemi through the main sitting room, down a hallway, and into her meditation chamber. The room was only big enough for two seats—essentially stylish red floor mats surrounding a small round table. A hole in the corner of the ceiling let in faint red light from the sun at certain times of the day as the light tiptoed through a break in the trees above. A thin cone of light effused through the room. Aphiemi was still getting used to places like this—where wizards inhabited, seemingly a different world within the world. A painting behind Sienna’s seat featured an elegant woman wearing green and gold-colored wizard robes, standing amidst the backdrop of Ochuroma’s Royal Gardens.

  “Who is that?” asked Aphiemi.

  “My ancestor, Fienna the Great Wizardess.”

  “Where have I heard that name before?”

  “Probably from your boyfriend and his wizard friend as they are the ones who found her flute.”

  “Oh, the flute! Yes...,” she said as she shook her head. “As you can tell, I’m a novice at understanding wizards, what they do, and how their magic works. Frankly, Sienna, I barely even believed in it at all until recently.”

  “I understand. And yes, I could tell,” said Sienna. “Our kind has often kept a low profile, but now I think many are beginning to see our value.”

  “Maybe because you always seem to pop up when war is at its fever pitch.”

  “That’s when they need us the most, or at least when they complain the least about us. Truth is, they need our kind all the time, but I prefer to let them realize that on their own. In any case, let us get started.”

  Aphiemi changed her sitting position to cross-legged style, matching Sienna. “Sorry if I’m a bit nervous.”

  “Nothing to be nervous about. I do this every day.” Sienna closed her eyes.

  Aphiemi closed hers but then cocked open her left eye. “Should I close mine too?”

  “Whatever you wish.”

  Aphiemi decided to keep her eyes open so she could observe whatever was about to happen. Sienna hummed a pleasing sound that slowly filled the room. Aphiemi felt soothed all over like a massage. She closed her eyes and enjoyed it for as long as it lasted until Sienna spoke.

  “May I see the diamond?”

  Aphiemi pulled the necklace off of her and held it out towards Sienna.

  “Just lay it on the table, please.”

  Aphiemi did as she said. Sienna sang a song, a touch high-pitched and with a striking melody. The tune sounded familiar, but Aphiemi couldn’t place it. Sienna lifted her hands up, cupping them before her. A gentle breeze blew across the room, ruffling Aphiemi’s hair and bringing a refreshing coolness across her face. The diamond and its necklace lifted up into midair—Aphiemi was definitely keeping her eyes open for the rest of this.

  Sienna kept singing. Aphiemi wanted to ask her the name of the song but obviously that could wait. The diamond rose upward a bit more and crossed the path of the cone of light from the ceiling corner. At the moment their paths crossed, the diamond sparkled brighter and scattered a rainbow of light all around the room. The light moved and danced across the walls as if telling a story. Aphiemi gazed at the reflected lights, confused as to what to look for or whether she should be taking in the music, or a combination of both.

  The lights glittered especially around the painting of Fienna. They moved across her and around her, morphing from a multicolored blend to red and lastly to white.

  Sienna’s song trailed off and ceased. The diamond fell. Aphiemi gasped but Sienna caught it with her left hand before it struck the table. “It’s fine. It wouldn’t break anyway.” She handed it back to Aphiemi.

  “Thank you. So...?” said Aphiemi as she replaced the necklace around her neck and tucked the diamond under her blouse.

  “So, what is clear is…while the diamonds are unique, they are not the enemy.”

  “Aqtal is the enemy. I got that.”

  “Yes, though even he is, in many ways, just a creature of his time. A pawn of greater things. He has not always been as evil as he is now.”

  “Are you saying he’s not at fault for the things he’s done?”

  “Heavens no. Why would you jump to that conclusion based on what I just said?”

  “I’m sorry, I just—”

  “I was merely stating facts. He will pay for his crimes he has willfully chosen to commit.”

  Aphiemi nodded in agreement.

  “Aqtal has taken these beautiful diamonds and their abilities and discerned how to magnify light through them, twisting it and squeezing it through his vice grip on the dark realm,” said Sienna.

  “Does he want this diamond?”

  “Probably. But more importantly, do you want it?”

  Aphiemi figured this would come up. She looked down, plunging into thought. Time seemed to stand still in this room and she didn’t feel rushed. It was a nice feeling. “Sure.”

  “But?”

  “I didn’t say ‘but’.”

  “No, but you are thinking it.”

  “You’re very perceptive, Sienna.”

  “I know.”

  “And humble about it,” said Aphiemi, smiling.

  “Humility can take several forms. Now, stop avoiding my question.”

  Aphiemi exhaled. “Of course I want to marry Ryle, but his vocation is hazardous and we don’t know how long this war will drag on. Plus, I still enjoy my duties as ambassador. Or rather, I find fulfillment in it. ‘Enjoy’ may not be the best word as it is often taxing, stressful work.”

  Sienna nodded understandingly as if she wanted Aphiemi to keep going, to keep unpacking her feelings.

  “I...sometimes wonder about him,” said Aphiemi.

  “In what way?”

  “He feels distant a lot. You know, emotionally. And please don’t say men are just like that.”

  “I know what you mean. And men are like that. But give me an example.”

  “Well, he often seems like he has his mind on other things when we’re supposed to be talking. I mean, I know he has a lot of responsibility in his position. I do too. But I want him to focus on me when we’re together.”

  “Understandable.”

  “It happens when we’re out together. In fact, this reminds me about something, but it may seem kind of silly.”

  “Go ahead. There’s no such thing as too silly to share.”

  Aphiemi reoriented her sitting position from cross-legged style. “One time, a while back when we were on a date, back when we had more time for that, I asked him to dance with me at this place and he just flat refused. I asked why and he would only say, ‘I just don’t want to.’ On another occasion I pushed him to dance and he wouldn’t. We sat down and I asked him to explain. He said, ‘I’ll dance in the next life.’ I mean, who says that? So, we’ve never danced together, though I would like to. Is that strange?”

  “Not at all.” Sienna eyed Aphiemi, waiting for more, but Aphiemi remained in thought. “Is there more to this that’s bothering you?”

  “I’m afraid he won’t even dance at our wedding!”

  “And that’s what’s holding you back from accepting his proposal?”
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  “No. It’s everything together.”

  “I’m interested in knowing why he doesn’t want to dance. I’d like to ask him.”

  “Oh no, don’t!”

  Sienna reached over to the wall and pressed a button, ostensibly an intercom. “Ryle, could you join us in my meditation room, just beyond the main sitting room. Thank you.”

  “What?” said Aphiemi, her face flush with warmth.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t ruin your relationship, though it seems unhealthy to me as it is.”

  Aphiemi’s right hand tingled with apprehension. The last time she and Ryle discussed this it didn’t go well, but that was a while ago.

  “Just relax,” said Sienna. She lifted up her hand, hummed, and a breeze blew across Aphiemi’s face, cooling her off.

  The door opened. Ryle checked out the room and stepped inside. “What’s up?”

  “So why don’t you want to dance?” asked Sienna.

  Ryle chuckled and glared down at Aphiemi. “You told her about the dancing thing?”

  Sienna answered for her. “I take the blame for any uncomfortableness. I just find this type of stuff fascinating.”

  Ryle crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway. “For the record, I never said I don’t want to dance ever. I’m just...I’m sure how to explain it. Not ready.”

  Sienna glanced at Aphiemi. “Does he always talk around it like that?”

  “Yeah, usually.”

  “I’m serious!” said Ryle. “If I could explain it, then I’d probably be able to just do it. Here’s the thing. I believe deep down inside every man really longs to dance, but something is holding him back.”

  “I know lots of men who dance. At least I used to before coming here,” said Sienna.

  “Well, I’m not referring to them. I mean…the rest of us.”

  “Suppose, Ryle, that the two of you had a special event. Let’s say, a wedding ceremony. Would you dance at that?”

  Ryle laughed. “She doesn’t hold back, does she?”

  “No, she doesn’t,” said Aphiemi.

  “In that hypothetical scenario, of course I would dance, but only if there was sufficient time during all the festivities and if the bride’s dress was not so ornate that it interfered.”