KRISA AND THE VALLEY OF GOLD
3. NOE
Noe walked Kasmiro back to the student halls and caught the number seven bus from the Academy through the White Shops. Crossing Victory Bridge over the Naiadara River, he made his way back to the cheap rental near the docks. The view out of the window was across the greenish-white Little Thalassa. Palms waved, and the houses and buildings were brilliant white. He set aside his walking stick and leaned on the peeling windowsill, the warm wind stirring and playing with the thin gray curtain. A red coastwise trader unfurled and filled its sails to head north for Velxe.
Ground-cars and fancy carriages for the afternoon post-dormeto perambulation filled the shore road, footmen and militia guards standing on running boards or hanging on behind. On the heights of the White Headland, the cloth sails of the windmills were full and turning. In the street, a man hawked slices of scarlet melon in a sing-song voice.
Noe watched, squinting against the late afternoon sun beginning to copper the milky sea, and undid the top buttons of his tunic.
Someone knocked at the thin, gray door, and he half-turned.
“Who is it?”
“Goyzadino.”
“Well, then, come in.”
The man who opened the door was tall and muscular, with a brazen dark face and thick graying hair. His clothes were ordinary, dusty, and his boots worn. His sash was black cloth, and he wore no rings nor anything else but a dagger in the sash and a rectangular mark where his tablet was.
He looked around the room, his eyes categorizing and numbering everything. Carpet-bag, closet half open with a few tunics on hangers. The chest with drawers not quite closed. The bed slept in.
“Nice view,” he said. He joined Noe at the window and looked at the sea.
“Nice enough,” Noe agreed, slowly sitting on a stool. “What brings you this evening?”
Goyzadino put his thumbs in his sash. “How’s your nephew?”
“Grand-nephew,” Noe said mildly. “And he’s well.”
“Yah, what did he say?”
Noe nodded slowly. “He’s…interested.”
“You said he’d be very interested.”
“He’s a dedicated lad. I didn’t think he’d just walk away from his summatives.”
“He’d better.”
“La, everyone is in such a rush. Hurry, hurry, hurry.” Noe took out a pair of spectacles and picked up a newsjournal from the sidetable and shook it out.
Goyzadino frowned. “I fund your work, you work at the speed I require.”
“My good man, you’ll be sorely disappointed if you expect buckets of wealth, especially at first. Gold’s uncommon, and must be wrung from the soil with patience.”
“Some don’t find it such a difficult task.”
“Some are more fortunate, or more skillful, if the stories are true.”
“If?” Goyzadino paced the room with his hands behind his back. “Gold dust! Tcha. There’s more than dust up there. I have seen, my friend, years ago, a nugget of gold that came out of that valley the size of an egg.”
“My friend from Hipassus spoke only of dust and flakes.”
“I’ve seen it.” Flat eyes. “There’s no telling what’s up that valley.”
Noe looked at the palm of his hand, as if imagining a nugget in it. “Who wouldn’t carry such a thing out, if they found it?”
“A man who doesn’t want visitors.”
“It’s an uncommon man who’d forgo wealth for quiet.”
“Gyges is an uncommon man, and his son-in-law is also. I don’t pretend to know what he would do if he found more bits like that, but I suspect it would surprise you.”
Noe rubbed his leg. “So there’s a story about what he did with the last one?”
“He bought two indentureds—a citizen-born and a tank-girl—and bribed a militia officer.”
Noe pursed his lips. “Do I sense some story, Mist’ Goyzadino?”
Goyzadino laughed, sarcastic. “Oh, you may. I’m not at liberty to tell you all the tale, but it’s interesting. There was something of a to-do.”
“You were there?”
“I was, and I saw some things, I can promise you.”
“Gyges—the officer he bribed is his patron?”
“No! Gyges bought free, but it was made pretty plain he’d keep himself and his women outside of civilization. Which brings me back to your grand-nephew. You need help, old man.” His visitor jerked his chin at Noe’s bad leg. “Strong young chap like him, knowledgeable in geology. Make sure you persuade him.”
“I don’t have a lot of fear for that. He’s interested.”
Goyzadino ended up at the window again. “You’ve bought all the equipment you need?”
“Yes, I’ve got it. I went through most of the money.”
“There’s other items you need. You can’t buy them, but I’ll get them for you.”
“Kind, I’m sure. What?”
“Guns.”
Noe crossed his arms. “Mist’ Goyzadino, it’s been a long time since I’ve handled a gun.”
“Gyges handled one more recently than you, and it’s still up there, I’m sure. You aren’t the only other concern on the edge of the Plateau, and though you’re a nice, cultured gentleman, some of them aren’t. And then there’s animals.”
“That isn’t terraformed country. There aren’t animals, surely.”
Goyzadino gave him an unreadable look. “If you can get there, jackals can get there,” he said finally. “I imagine they’d be really hungry if they did.”
“Are these legal guns?”
“No.”
“I’d rather—”
“No choice.”
“No choice.” Noe smiled, and took out a tobacco tin and papers. “Smoke?”
“No.” The man took an envelope out and tossed it on the bed. “My employer has given you a bit more money.”
“My gratitude to him.” Noe laid a paper on the side table and sprinkled crumbs of leaf into it.
“When are your nephew’s summatives?”
“Next week.”
“Get him up there afterward. Any excuse. ‘Just come and see.’ Whatever. Results are wanted.”
“Results are wanted.” Noe pulled a match from its box, thoughtfully closed it, and struck it. The flame flared.
The door banged, and his visitor was gone, his feet treading down the stairs. Noe lit the cigarette, shook out the match, tossed it on the table, and smoked, listening to the carriage wheels on the street.