Alpha Adventures: First Three Novels Page 3

  Travis was pleased to see Savannah’s jaw drop a little. “It felt good for once to get to the conclusion before the brilliant historian”. “Sound logic,” Savannah said, “I’ll get in touch with Thyri so she can approve funding and we’ll get flights for tomorrow. You know, Travis, considering you’ve almost definitely pickled your brain over the last few months, it’s good to know you can still function when it counts.”

  Travis almost blushed at the flirt in her words, but just grinned at her instead and wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Oh God!” she said, “I just realized what that sounded like. Down, soldier. You’re not all that. Keep that brilliant mind on the job, ok?”

  It was her turn to blush. Travis felt quite victorious, bowed a little mockingly, spun on his heel and headed to the door.

  “Where are you going?” Savannah said.

  “I’m going to go home and pack.” Savannah’s expression turned suspicious. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to drink, but I’d rather not go to Japan with just one suit. Let me know when you have the tickets booked, and we’ll go to the airport together, okay?”

  Savannah readily agreed, but gave him a slightly reproachful look. She clearly suspected that Travis would absolutely go home and drink, and would be in a foul mood for the long flight to Japan the next day. Travis, for his part, felt a little indignant at the assumption, to presume that he could not go for one night without getting on the sauce. As he walked away from the office, making his way across town, with only the slight squeak in his shoes for company, he realized that he could be in Japan for a good while. He had sake once or twice at Japanese restaurants, and had even gotten drunk on it with a visiting astronomy professor from Kobe. He couldn’t say that he had particularly liked the stuff. Alcohol was not intended to be consumed warm in his professional and private opinion. Thinking about drinking, it was almost a surprise to Travis when he found himself stepping into a store, picking up a couple of bottles of wine, paying for them and continuing home. It had become as simple as breathing.

  Chapter Five

  Twenty-four hours and an eternity of Antarctic-level cold shoulder treatment from Savannah later, they were touching down at Ibaraki Airport. Flying with a hangover next to a woman who had damn near broken his door down that morning was not Travis’ idea of flying in style. He hadn’t meant to get drunk at all, it just kind of happened. As it did far too often of late, he realized. Being as it was, he had screwed up; slept through his alarm and nearly made them late for the plane, but they had made it with a few minutes to spare. Savannah had not given him much opportunity through her gritted teeth and steely eyes to offer much more than the most cursory of apologies. Travis was at least in Japan, ready to work. What else mattered? She didn’t have to keep him in the doghouse all the way across the Pacific. He’d had no time to pack that morning, so had barely looked at the clothes he was throwing into the suitcase, but had at least remembered to bring his electric shaver and toothbrush.

  His skin felt vacuum-packed from the pressurized atmosphere of the flying cattle pen masquerading as an airplane. His throat was dry, and for some reason, despite being clear of them for five years, he wanted a cigarette. Japan smelt strange to him, crisp autumn air that was familiar, yet completely alien, hyper efficient arrivals procedures with the minimum of visible, overbearing security, a sprawling sea of humanity of all nations, but mainly, Japanese moving through an impeccably designed umbilical of corridors, forking off to catch trains, other planes, automobiles. It was maddening to Travis, the organization of it all, the efficiency of design. He was accustomed to cities, and of course airports, but he still felt constricted by them at the best of times. The juxtaposition of order and chaos here, synergized humanity and routine, was completely alien.

  Savannah took it all in stride, as usual the consummate traveler. Travis felt he should be better at being in foreign cultures, thanks to having seen most of what planet Earth had to offer through the course of his lifetime of anthropological studies, but he couldn’t easily disconnect his mind from trying to figure out the patterns in a culture through their mundane architecture. It was a riot of information, of how these people lived, how they came to be who they are. Savannah serenely smiled at her co-travelers, the immigration officials, the taxi driver that would drive them to Tochigi, reserving stony glances for Travis alone.

  Tochigi lay a good hour along the road from Ibaraki; Travis slept a little, dropping in and out of consciousness lulled by the smooth ride of the Toyota taxi cab and Savannah speaking what sounded like very competent Japanese to the driver. He must have dropped off deeper, as he was woken by a gentle shove.

  “We’re here,” Savannah said, “wakey wakey. The taxi driver says this hotel is pretty good.”

  Travis’ eyes felt crusty so he rubbed them, trying to clear the worst of it as he opened the cab door. It was raining gently on Tochigi Prefecture. Travis had only seen Japan on television before, and was perhaps a little disappointed to find that the city was much like many others, save for signposts and advertising hoardings in kanji and English. He was strangely slightly reminded of Germany, contrary to the high-tech wonderland he had expected. The place looked efficiently built and planned, with not a single giant robot in sight. It was a foolish expectation, he knew.

  This is what happens when you live your life investigating ancient culture and ignoring the present, he thought wryly.

  His attention was captured by a row of traditional Japanese buildings and what appeared to be a centuries-old temple situated neatly amongst the more modern construction. Its age gladdened him. Perhaps in the course of the upcoming investigation he would have the opportunity to spend some time immersed in the history contained in them. Of course, what Travis would like most while in Japan would be to get to the northern island of Hokkaido to see relics of the Ainu race, who inhabited the lands before the arrival of the Yamato. Travis was still considering how to split his duties searching for the amethyst mine with historical investigations, and whether he could convince Savannah to come with him, while Savannah booked them into the hotel.

  Travis wanted to sleep, but Savannah was merciless, demanding that they ate and discussed tactics right away. From what he saw of his hotel room in the minute or so he had to dump his bag and wash his face, the bed looked more comfortable than any he had seen in years.

  Frog-marched to the hotel’s restaurant by the still imperious Savannah, he was reasonably impressed with the array of food on the menu and, while Savannah dined on sushi, he was able to find a good steak. Perhaps he would not starve to death eating fish, pickled vegetables and rice after all.

  “It’s getting late, we should get an early night. Tomorrow we start looking for clues.”

  Travis nodded agreement with that. “We don’t have much to go on. Where should we start?”

  “If there’s amethyst being mined, it has to be sold somewhere or there’s no point mining it. And if it’s being mined illegally, then it’s probably not going to be in department stores but in the markets of the old quarter. Seems to me that we follow the money trail backwards from there, eventually we find out who sold the amethyst.”

  Savannah’s tone betrayed that she was still in a pretty bad mood with him.

  “Ok, we’ll do that. Sounds perfect!” Travis knew from Savannah’s face he was trying too hard. “How do we get the sellers to tell us anything, though? We can’t just walk in and say ‘Hi guys, konichiwa, don’t suppose you know that this amethyst is probably illegally obtained, by the way, who sold this to you?”

  That got a laugh out of her, at least.

  “Travis, you really have no idea on how to lie to people, do you? We pose as investors, or wealthy buyers. We have Thyri’s credit cards, and it’s not like we’ll be able to take anything we buy out of the country, so we can return it or sell it before we leave Japan. If we throw enough Yen at the problem, it’ll at least give us some clues.”

  “Or provide us with more problems.” Travis said darkly,
as he sipped on his coca-cola and wished it was a Shiraz. “Remember that we still need to find this Kinagawa, or his descendants, to have any hope of recovering the deeds to the mine, which we also don’t know the location of. I think maybe we should split up; one of us searches for Kinagawa, and one does the amethyst buying.”

  Savannah snorted at him.

  “Do you think I’m an idiot, Travis? I left you for one night and you got drunk and nearly blew our flights. You stick with me. Besides which, you don’t speak Japanese.”

  Travis wanted to argue the point, but Savannah was right. He knew no conversational Japanese at all, nor did he know how many people here spoke English; what was sure was that the phrase ‘amethyst mine’ was not going to be on the average person’s vocabulary list. Savannah had clearly not quite forgiven him for getting drunk again, so he tried to look as contrite as possible. Bed was his main priority, his only desire now. All other concerns could wait until morning.

  Chapter Six

  Three days. Three days of endlessly trawling in the old quarter of Tochigi, with no results to show from it apart from increasingly frayed tempers, had left Savannah demoralized and Travis itching for a drink. It seemed to them that every single antiques dealer and curiosity shop was selling pieces of amethyst—their hotel rooms were getting quite cluttered with the stuff—but no one would tell them where it came from. Amethyst in statues, amethyst in necklaces, rings and bangles, raw amethyst, uncut and natural, but none of it was the Deep Russian quality. The trail was cold, or if not cold, suffering from hypothermia at the very best.

  On a whim, and at much protesting from Savannah who only relented when Travis pointed out that doing things her way had not yielded any results, the fifth day of their adventure in Japan was spent searching the graveyards of Tochigi, looking for clues to either Kanagawa or the Namarisawa family. A city the size of Tochigi had several large grave yards, and Travis was relentless in his pursuit. He knew that if this search turned up nothing, Savannah would have them antique shopping again in no time. Travis had no idea how Adam stayed sane working as he did with antiques. Travis could see their value, but quite often the trinkets had no particular relevance to the spirit of the culture that they came from. They told him nothing, except that the artisans who made them were skilled. The pieces that mattered to him were far older, from before the times when humans could simply write down their history. Those antiques told stories.

  It was getting late in the afternoon, and they had already visited two cemeteries when the first bit of luck came their way. It had been painfully slow going, with Savannah progressively getting more exhausted and miserable with the rigors of translating the Japanese script marking the names of the deceased, when in the third cemetery they encountered a teenage boy around fourteen, lighting some incense at a shrine. Savannah’s eyes scanned the engraved kanji on the shrine, and whispered “Namarisawa” in Travis’ ear. The boy clearly had very keen hearing, as he turned slowly to them. He bowed slightly and Savannah and Travis returned the gesture, a little stilted still with the unfamiliar courtesy.

  Then to Travis’ surprise, he spoke in slightly accented but otherwise perfect English.

  “Excuse me, but how do you know of my ancestor?”

  “I’m not sure if it is your ancestor that we know of,” Travis said, “we have been hired to find out what we can about a Mr. Namarisawa who owned a mine here, a long time ago.”

  They boy looked at him uncertainly.

  “This is he. This is the Namarisawa grave, inside lay the ashes of Akira Namarisawa, and his wife Yuki. I am the great-great grandson of Tetsuo Namarisawa, his brother. My name is Ryo Suzuki.”

  Travis couldn’t quite figure out what relationship that made him to Miya Richards, it was something like a second cousin twice removed. Genealogy was never his strong suit. He smiled at the boy.

  “Hi, Ryo. I am Travis, and this is Savannah. Did you know that you have relatives in America? Descendants of Akira Namarisawa are the ones who sent us here.”

  “Hmm. You should go back to America, Travis. The mine was just an old story, it doesn’t exist.”

  “We think there might be something in the story, or at least our client, your relative, does. Do you know of a family called Kinagawa?” Savannah said.

  Travis gritted his teeth; he would rather not have brought the family who destroyed the lives of the Namarisawas into the conversation; not yet. Ryo seemed to agree, his eyes blazed with what looked like resentment and anger.

  “Yes, I know. We stay out of their way. We know what they did, and it was for nothing. There is no mine, it was just something that the Namarisawas made up to have Akira executed for treason. They said Akira was keeping money for himself and not paying taxes, defrauding the Emperor. He was just a business man, my grandfather said. My family never recovered from losing all our businesses to the Kinagawas, and we’ve always lived with the shame.”

  The boy looked crestfallen, although the events that he felt pain over occurred decades before he was born.

  “When I am older, I am going to reclaim my family’s honor and make us prosperous again. Not here though. Tochigi is owned by the Kinagawas. I can’t wait to leave.”

  Savannah pressed on, “You know of the Kinagawas? Do you know where they are?”

  Ryo laughed bitterly. “Of course, everyone knows. Most of the property in town is owned by them, most of the small businesses have to deal with them for just about everything. Have you seen the advertisements for Himiko Corporation goods?”

  Savannah and Travis shook their heads; they had been far too focused on finding amethysts and graves to pay attention to the overhead sign boards.

  “Well, that’s them. They have a building in town, but you do not want to go there asking about the Namarisawa family, I can tell you. My uncle did just that, years ago before I was born, and he was never seen again.”

  Travis considered the boy’s tale. Could it be true? It sounded ridiculous. The darkening skies seemed to add to Ryo’s ominous story. A company, running a town from behind the scenes, it wasn’t unheard of for businesses to deal in multiple sectors, and Ryo was clearly a biased source of information. Still, it didn’t bring them any closer to finding the mine, and Travis certainly didn’t want to get embroiled in what seemed like a long running family dispute. A thought nagged at his mind until it formed into a question.

  “Ryo, if there was no amethyst mine, why is Tochigi so full of amethyst jewelry? It has to come from somewhere, right?” Ryo looked unfazed.

  “My mother said that it’s just because amethyst is preferred to jade in this area, lots of artisans import it from Brazil now, it’s cheap and tourists like to buy it because of the Amethyst Temple in Nikko.”

  “Amethyst Temple?” Savannah said, “What’s that?”

  “It’s in all the tourist guides, you must have seen them. There are lots of temples in Nikko, some of the oldest in Japan. Nikko is up in the mountains, not far from here. The myths say that the gods lived in a great temple there, right at the top of the tallest mountain. The monks moved there to be close to the gods, and made lots of statues for them with amethyst eyes, or something like that. There are loads of monkeys up there too, that’s the only reason I go. I caught one once, but he bit me. I was only little then.” The boy grinned at the memory. “The monkeys look friendly, but that’s because they are beggars.”

  Rain began to fall and Ryo said he had to get home; he had stayed out too long as it was. Savannah managed to get his telephone number and a promise that they could meet and talk to his mother, perhaps the next day. Ryo left, and the skies opened fully, dumping heavy rain on the woefully underprepared adventurers.

  “What did you make of that?” said Travis. “It’s a crazy story. I can’t quite seem to believe that it’s all true.”

  “Most of the myths that we think are crazy stories now had a basis in truth once,” Savannah said. “What we need to do is separate the truth from myth. Tomorrow morning, we’re going to see th
is Himiko Corporation for ourselves.”

  “Agreed, it’s ridiculous that a business of that size would dirty its hands with murder, or at least abduction. Still, it doesn’t answer the question of the amethyst mine itself. I’m quite interested to meet Ryo’s mother. Something about this doesn’t quite add up.”

  Travis and Savannah walked down the hill, back towards the hotel, their minds growing increasingly full of questions that seemed to present no answers.

  Chapter Seven

  FROM: s.summers@adventuresinc.org

  TO: tragnarsson@lothbrukinvestments.com

  SUBJECT: Report 6, Tochigi

  Thyri,

  Still stymied as to veracity of amethyst mine claim. We met a local boy, apparently a distant relative of client. Seems like there is a long standing feud between the descendants of the Namarisawas and the Kinagawas—which reminds me, please have a word with your “contacts” and see what they can get us on the Himiko Corporation. Apparently it is owned by the Kinagawas; if there’s anything suspect about them, I’d like to know. We’re going to check them out tomorrow, see if there’s anything we can find out before we go to Nikko on Tuesday, which at this time looks like the best lead to find out where all this amethyst is coming from, if it is indeed produced domestically.