Prelude to Crystal Cove Chronicles

Chapter 9: The Message

Marielle's eyebrows levitated. "Zenya... I must say, I like that look of fiery determination in your eyes."

Looking down and issuing a brief cough, Zenya resumed her seated position and grinned sheepishly at her friend. "I had quite a lot of time to think on the voyage back. Karancia has all kinds of facilities, including medical, so I wondered if perhaps they might be better positioned to study Tragost's Syndrome."

"Considering all the research they conduct there, I would imagine they are already quite aware of this illness."

"Probably. They do a lot of work with maseki crystals, after all," Zenya said, nodding. "I wonder if no one is interested simply because it seems like such a localised problem?"

Marielle paused in the act of sewing the accessory's pin onto the rear side."Localised?"

"Or small-scale, I suppose is a better way to put it," Zenya said. She idly tapped her left index finger on the tabletop, apparently lost in thought. "There aren't even ten of you here at the centre. I wonder how many they've seen over in Karancia?"

"It is quite a rare circumstance for maseki crystals to be faulty, and with how relatively new the technology is..."

"Right, it's possible they've had some unexplained deaths, but haven't cottoned on that UMI is the cause."

Tilting her head, Marielle raised an eyebrow. "There is a lot of trade between our two fair countries, and gossip travels fast."

"You're saying there's no way they couldn't have heard about this place?"

"Exactly that, yes. We may be few in number, but our condition is well-known."

Zenya scratched her chin. "Then we can assume it's almost certain they know about the condition, and maybe they already have someone looking into it. If only I'd thought to ask about it while I was at the hospital!"

"I'm more than happy that you are thinking of us at all, Zenya," Marielle said, reaching out and stroking her friend's arm.

"I just wish there was more I could do," Zenya mumbled.

"Life is a learning experience, my dear Zenya," Marielle said, her expression remaining soft and pleasant regardless of the reality of her situation. "This illness has taught me how precious our time on this land truly is. And perhaps one day I will have the opportunity to learn how to pass on to the next world. I don't see it as a good versus bad situation. What's important is the learning derived from those experiences."

"I'm not sure I can see the world the same way as you, Mari," Zenya said, heaving a sigh.

"Having a life-threatening illness clarifies the mind somewhat," Marielle said, issuing a genuine laugh and returning to her work.

"I don't know, I... what's that sound?" Zenya said, looking up at the rafters. A sort of heavy thrum, almost like a propeller aircraft? But it was loud, and getting louder, and didn't sound like just one either.

"I hear it, too. How peculiar," Marielle said.

"Let's go take a look!" Zenya said. She got to her feet and wheeled her friend out through the hallway where she had entered, arriving outside the building. "See anything?"

Marielle shook her head. "Not yet."

"Are the air squadrons on fly-by today?" Zenya asked, bringing a hand up to shield her eyes from the blinding rays of the setting sun, which loitered just above the horizon, visible over the tall city walls for a last few moments before dipping out of sight.

"I don't believe so, no," Marielle said, shaking her head. "The scouts are flying reconnaissance, thanks to what happened three years ago, but there would normally only be one or two of them."

"That sounds like at least half a dozen planes!" Zenya muttered.

Then they saw, with sinking hearts, what was causing the noise. A colossal blimp, easily twice the size of the new skyliner being constructed in Karancia's shipyards, and obviously military in nature.

It had armoured cabins on the underside, several large turrets which could fire at any ground target within a large arc, and half a dozen thrumming magi-prop engines pushing it effortlessly through the sky. On each side of the armoured balloon section was emblazoned the Musean military crest, a black circle with a crimson sword thrust through the centre at a forty-five degree angle, top right to bottom left.

The airship flew over the city in a big circle and, just as it reached the centre, right above Leth's Sanctuary, someone on the deck upended a small trunk, only the size of a suitcase, over the side. Several dozen small, metallic objects fluttered down, tumbling end over end and glittering in the dying rays of sunlight.

Running over, Zenya bent down to collect one of the silver items and almost dropped it in shock. It was a military identification tag! Reading the name and registration number, it indicated that the owner had been a crew member of the Nocturnal Rambler. The lost patrol ship...

"What is it?" Marielle asked, wheeling herself across with a concerned expression, her eyes locked onto the now-departing airship.

"Dog tags, from the crewmembers of the lost patrol ship," Zenya said in a flat tone.

"So it was the Museans," Marielle said, dropping her gaze back down. She let out a heavy breath. "I suppose it was too much to hope that it was merely an accident."

"That's not the worst part," Zenya said, still in the same dead tone of voice. The sound of the airship's engines was fading by now as it travelled back south before a response could be mounted. But it didn't matter. The message had got through loud and clear, even to a non-military person like Zenya. "They don't need ground forces any more. They can attack us with airships."

Marielle's expression, already worried, slowly morphed into one of fear. She clasped her hands in her lap and sent up a prayer to the goddess.

Zenya clenched her fists, the metal of the dog tag digging into her right hand's fingers and drawing a bead of blood. In only a matter of days, the Lady Fairweather would take its maiden voyage all the way from Herencia to the humid jungle lands of Zorantia, carrying dozens of well-to-do passengers.

It seemed clear to her now that what it should instead be carrying was turrets and ammunition.

Grasping the handles of her friend's wheelchair, she moved Marielle into the building and around to the dormitory section where the patients lived. And deep down inside her, a second resolve was growing fast.

Not only would she find a way to cure Tragost's Syndrome, she would also begin preparations to get Marielle out of Taridia at the first opportunity. And perhaps... out of the Tri-Cities entirely.

They had days, maybe a week or two if they were lucky. And luck was just about the last thing Zenya felt she had on her side right now.

- ENDOF PRELUDE #1-