Chapter XIV

After spending what seemed like hours in cuffs and being poked and prodded both physically and mentally, Lich relished the relative comfort of Cekyura’s lobby. It had carpet, and cloth-covered armchairs with firm yet soft cushions, and wood-trim walls, and one or two potted plants (presumably plastic), and…

Lich felt some excitement in its familiarity. It felt homely, even if a receptionist-of-sorts was busy typing away on the desk opposite, making it feel like any corporate lobby except for the burly Koopa guards. But even with them there, it felt like nothing bad could happen.

It was safe here. Out there, wherever there was, were Magikoopas and soldiers and sand. Of course, someone here could have very well been a double agent. But right now, all that mattered was the armchair he was sitting in. It had only been a whole day since he had entered the Koopa Kingdom, but after what he had been through, it seemed like he had been here for a week.

He smirked secretly when the muffle of a raised voice blocked by padding wafted in from the office next door. After the mistreatment Cekyura and his underlings had given him, it seemed just that Cekyura should get his own. A small part of him felt guilty that Cekyura now had a lot on his hands after what he had done.

And then cold reality set in. Tob was no better. They were both spies. If Cekyura had told him the truth, Tob had investigated him previously, so he would know about his belief in promises. He knew he would rush headlong into a mission into deep, dark Koopadom just because he had promised him he would. He had placed trust in Tob’s claws and now he was here in some KIA outpost, waiting to be told to go on or go home by Mushrooms, the Koopas’ sworn enemy – and Tob probably knew he would argue in his favour. It was a brilliant plan, along with a brilliant gamble. No wonder he had won those medals.

And then there was Cekyura. He had succeeded in planting a seed of doubt. He had felt invincible until now, but without his weapons, Lich was a fertile field. Was he doing the right thing after all? Would he start a war with the Gr’tokoru dead? Was Cekyura telling the truth?

The doubts went even deeper. Why was he doing it for someone he could barely remember? Why couldn’t he remember? Why was he having these dreams?

It was all as a promise. A hollow promise. Lich did not know whether or not the small cell or Cekyura’s lobby was gloomier.

He looked to Ark, beside him. His younger brother sat pensively, his head lowered, half-open eyes cast down to the floor, nose resting on his fist. He was muttering to himself: his time in long underworld solitude had brought that upon him. Lich strained to hear what he contemplated aloud.

“Magikoopas…multiple target…lava wave, good on wood platform,” he whispered.

Lich closed his eyes and smiled faintly. Ark seemed to be expecting to continue with the journey, an unusual strain of optimism amidst the gloom he had experienced since his return. Or was continuing the journey the source of his pessimism?

Either way, the decision was in the hands of someone who probably only left the comfort of their desk to go home at night. Maybe they would be sympathetic. Maybe they would be dogmatic.

“Mister Cekyura will see you two again,” Eg’lk suddenly spoke up.

The two Yoshies stood and were ushered into the room by the burly Koopa. Cekyura sat at his desk, shaking his head in apparent disbelief as they arranged themselves before him in two lines, Lich and Ark in front.

“Roll up, roll up, welcome to Toad Town circus,” he sighed, shooting Lich a quick glare. “I do hope that smirk will disappear soon, Mister Dyluck.”

Lich returned his face to the most neutral position he could manage.

“I must admit I am rather…disappointed, that Head Office did not agree with my Magikoopa suggestion,” Cekyura spoke coldly. “It would have made my job far, far easier where you’re concerned.”

“I wouldn’t have minded fighting them off,” Ark spoke quietly with a shrug.

“Ha!” Cekyura said mirthlessly. “Please let me continue with business, Mister Ark, Head Office is making all the jokes. Now, I am supposed to say that you have an option of refusal. You are allowed to say ‘no’ to this proposition, and if you do, it’s sun drenched beaches with hard-working Mushrooms’ – like myself – tax Coins. I would prefer you said ‘no’, because extractions are easy, I haven’t paid my tax yet, and the Isle Delfino branch will do the minding.”

“You haven’t said what the alternative is, yet,” Lich spoke.

“I know that,” Cekyura growled. He drew a calming breath. “Should you agree, then you continue on your merry way across the desert to B’kirik as you originally planned.”

“Why ‘yes’ to this, then?” Lich asked.

“In its ‘infinite wisdom’,” Cekyura said, scornfully putting the inverted commas in place with his fingers, “Head Office has decided you’re useful. I can’t see why when your presence causes Karkok’s death, you render Va’kotiku’s toilets useless, and you camp in Ak’gorak. And when you giggle when I mention ‘toilets’, Mister Ark.”

Ark bit his lip while he let his fit subside.

Lich narrowed his eyes. “What do your superiors want us to do?”

“They want you to go on to B’kirik and get the B’ralku out of the country.”

“I’m glad they agree with me,” Lich sighed. “Thank you for wasting my afternoon.”

Cekyura seemed to purposefully ignore Lich’s comment and continued, “The only difference is that we will supply you with a plan of action and our resources in doing so.”

“Resources?” Ark asked eagerly, hearing the untold suggestion of technological devices.

“Not equipment. If you are captured and the KBT finds our stuff on you, then the deepest parts of Bowser’s Castle are the most comfortable part of that experience. Besides, given the ‘success’ of your foray into the Realm, I wouldn’t be comfortable entrusting it to you.”

Cekyura paused while he waited for the feeling of guilt to bubble up. “So. Which offer will you accept, Misters von Kippo?”

To turn around now and stop was the easy option, especially with the wanting Cekyura before him. Was it the easy option after he left the office, though? What of the Boomerang? Was the safe keeping up to its name? And the medals Tob entrusted him with?

Entrusted.

Turning to Ark, he saw his eyes tell him that he would stick by him in either decision. With a nod, he looked back to Cekyura.

“Judging by that picture frame there, you seem to be married and have a family, Mister Cekyura,” he spoke, pointing to it. “I don’t know the circumstances of why you chose your wife, or she chose you, but you two made vows to stand by each other through thick and thin. For all I know, she might have seen you as a way to marry up in society, or you might have seen her as someone to spend your life with because she has a great body. That’s not to pry or to make any assumptions, but if you two married because it would benefit you or your families or someone else, that benefit doesn’t matter. The promise is what does, because if that promise is broken, you cause great harm because you two put trust in each other, and you dishonour yourself.

“I made a vow to Telg B’ralku and he placed his trust in me. Whether or not part of the plan was to have me captured or killed in doing so or to continue the Ket’nal’kok feud, it does not matter. But he entrusted me with a task; I don’t know when, I don’t know how apart from the letter, but if I don’t do it, I’m betraying myself. The strongest link I have in common between the origin of the letter and sitting here in this office is me. It’s the only thing that I can trust, when all’s said and done. And if I don’t trust myself, then I’m dishonouring myself.

“Leaving someone’s most prized possessions with their enemy and not their family is not honourable, even if you were to deliver it to Vatari B’ralku yourself. I would be denying a wife closure about her husband. I would not be giving children a reason to be proud of their father. We have a saying on Fa’Diel, in that there are no good beliefs and bad beliefs, just different beliefs from yours. Telg might have been a Koopa, a top KBT agent, a B’ralku involved in Ket’nal’kok’s woes, even, out to get me. But even though his beliefs don’t agree with mine, they’re not bad, for he was a person, too. For me to turn tail and soak up Delfino’s sun is too easy – what’s right by you is easy to do, but what’s wrong is even easier. I’ll do it, Mister Cekyura, not for the KIA’s honour or your honour or Telg’s honour, but my own.”

“‘Yes’ would have sufficed, Mister Dyluck,” Cekyura sighed. He paused to savour Lich’s face falling out of smug self-gratification for a good speech into glum indignation. Satisfied, he typed a password on his keyboard.

The desk clicked as it relinquished its hold on a drawer in front of its owner, scraped woodenly as it was pulled out and then in reverse after two plain manila folders were pulled out of it. He dropped them on the desk, gestured languidly towards the lounge setting, and then moved towards the cupboard.

“You know, normally I’d have well-experienced spies sitting down where you are right now,” he said with the clink of glasses being picked up as the Yoshies sat down.

Lich looked to Cekyura, seeing his back turned as he opened a small refrigerator housed in the cupboard. “Well, you’ve got us instead. It’s good to have a change every now and again.”

“Ha!” There was a decidedly fierce rumble and clatter of ice cubes. “I don’t suggest getting too friendly just because I’m being kind, Mister Dyluck. The Realm of Bauzur goes on unawares above. It’s very easy to drop you in the middle of it.”

“Ah, but your superiors wouldn’t like that, would they?” he continued, trying to see around him.

“No. But I am the head of a regional branch of the KIA. I have loyal spies willing to sweep things under the carpet for me.”

“You think as I do, Mister Cekyura,” Lich spoke as he tried to look past him the other way. “What are you doing?”

Cekyura turned around with a bottle of whisky. “Showing you my hospitality. I am not entirely a heartless bastard as you might think I am. I do this with all of my spies. Steels the nerves. You need yours steeled perhaps more than they do.”

Cekyura turned around again and started to pour. Lich mouthed “Does he?” in Koopan to Eg’lk, and received an emphatic nod. Perhaps too emphatic.

“You’re not trying to poison us, right?” Ark asked.

Cekyura chuckled. “Yes. I’m mixing in the hydrochloric acid right now.”

The guards tittered.

“I do hope not,” Ark frowned.

“Sarcasm, Mister Ark, sarcasm,” Cekyura sighed as he arranged the glasses on a small silver tray and brought it over in one hand, picking up the folders in the other along the way. He threw them down on the desk before both of the Yoshies, placed each whisky-on-the-rocks next to them, and sat down after putting the tray in the middle of the table and pulling a piece of paper from beneath it.

Lich picked up the folder, eyed the drink warily, and pulled off the elastic band on one corner. He opened it and saw a typed print-out. “Our dossiers,” he stated.

“Yes,” Cekyura nodded, somewhat reluctantly. “Standard protocol.”

“Cool,” Ark grinned, rapidly thumbing through his. “Do we get call signs and everything?”

“We won’t be making contact with you,” Cekyura spoke, leaning forward, his hands together in a pensive steeple. “No call signs. Please,” he gestured to the drinks.

Lich picked it up, looked at it, and then brought it to his nostrils to sniff. The whisky overpowered any other scents.

“Look, if I really wanted to do you off, I would have already, alright?” Cekyura sighed, his face showing a flicker of remorse. “Consider this a sort of making-up for the inconvenience.”

He had to admit that the only thing missing right now was the crackle of an open flame. Why was he making him comfortable after the mistreatment? Was it truly out of the goodness of his heart? There was only one way to find out.

“I hope so,” Lich said, taking a tentative sip. He closed his eyes. The whisky was mellow and smooth in flavour, and seemed to benefit from the ice in it. He swallowed, and counted to ten mentally.

“It kills you on fifteen,” Cekyura smirked.

Lich chuckled – why was he off-guard all of a sudden? He looked to Ark who smirked as he caught the joke this time, and then took a mouthful along with a few ice-cubes, swallowing quickly. His eyes prickled.

“That’s the way,” Cekyura smiled supportively. “Now, trusting your word that you will not kill the Gr’tokoru and start cataclysmic events, you will continue on to B’kirik. Do you understand me so far? No. Cataclysmic. Events.”

The two Yoshies nodded, and Ark took his first taste of the drink along with a few ice-cubes also.

“Very good, children,” Cekyura praised them sarcastically, with a humourless grin. “Now. First thing’s first. The contents of those dossiers must not – I repeat, must not – get into Koopan claws. I suggest you memorise the info or at least take only the photograph. Incinerate everything at the earliest opportunity. Not put in a bin, not tear, nor shred. Incinerate. The KBT can’t piece together and read ashes. You got that?”

“We could put it in Stor–”

“No, Mister Ark. The KBT has sympathisers on Fa’Diel and they might as well have taught a few Magikoopas how to look in there and grab them if you get captured. Burning it’s the only way.”

“I’ll take care of it, then,” Ark spoke gravely, drawing another sip.

“Good. Take a look at the photo.”

Lich pulled it out – it was the size of a normal photograph – and did as he was commanded, taking another sip. The whisky was good.

“That’s Vatari, Garat and Kroko B’ralku,” Cekyura stated. “At least you know what they look like now.”

The picture was of the three Koopas in a marketplace – probably in B’kirik – taken from a high up vantage point. In his mind’s eye, Lich expected Vatari to look more glamorous, Garat to look more youthful, and Kroko to look more innocent. Nevertheless, they seemed to be almost like every other family, if it wasn’t for blue-shelled Garat looking like the splitting dream-image of his father, even sporting a prominent scar on his cheek. Seeing them now undermined his confidence in walking into their house and showing them the bad news – he could see Vatari’s head droop on her yellow shell, Garat’s eyes look downcast and Kroko retreat into her green carapace, bawling. They weren’t strangers to him, now.

“How did you get this?” Lich asked.

“The reason for Head Office’s agreement is that they deem your self-appointed mission as a good opportunity to get their foot in the door of the whole Ket’nalkok issue. We’ve been watching them for a while, since Telg was deemed a threat, so we can say they’re still at the address given in his letter to you. Once you have persuaded them–”

“How?” asked Ark.

“With the letter?” Cekyura reminded condescendingly.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied reproachfully.

“Once you have persuaded them to come with you, go to the night markets in the square and look for a stall that sells spices on the eastern side. There’s a map of B’kirik in there. The owner is one of our operatives – please don’t get her killed – so you will need to give her the special purchase code, which you’ll find on the briefing sheet. As you buy the nutmeg, state that you have a special triple chocolate Goomnut cake recipe. She will inform Head Office that you’ve got the B’ralku.

“You then need to go south-east to Ang’kek, specifically to the railyards there, within the next 48 hours after that. Get there at night, and do try to avoid the searchlights, please. There will be cars lined up for shunting. You need to find a blank green container with the number KN635214 on it. Get on there and wait – there are special empty boxes inside you can hide in when you get to the border. The locomotive will pick up the train 48 hours after our contact in B’kirik tells us to fetch you. The train will arrive in the Toad Town yards and we’ll come to pick you up. You know it will be us because the operative will knock three times and say ‘I hate unpacking containers from B’kirik.’ We’ll take you to debriefing and then you’re free to do as you please. Any questions?”

“Yeah, it says here that we’ll be ‘taken K TR2’,” Lich said. “What’s that mean?”

“The Realm’s weakest link in its chain armour is its transportation system,” Cekyura explained. “We have friends in the Highway Patrol.”

“So we saw you guys around lunchtime,” Ark stated.

“Yes, that was us,” Cekyura chuckled. “It was the only way to safely bring you in, I’m afraid. And the only way out.”

“Lovely,” Lich spoke flatly as he finished his drink.

“Don’t look so glum,” Cekyura grinned. “Once it’s far enough away from the city, you’ll be able to climb in the back. It’s just to get through the gates. The truck will then go to the end of its patrol route on the road to Rek’kango. It will drop you off there and you will have to make your way west-northwest to B’kirik from there. We don’t have the resources to get you there otherwise – lucky for you, there’s national park between there and B’kirik. Just watch out for the bandits; everything else should be child’s play. Any more questions?”

“What do we do if we get captured?” Ark asked warily.

“Pray to whatever deity you believe in for a quick and painless death,” Cekyura spoke.

Ark downed the last of the whisky and the ice-cubes in response.

“Now, unless you have any further questions…no? Right. That’s it. You leave as soon as you get into the truck.”

The three of them got up, the two Yoshies vanishing the dossiers into their Storages.

“Mister Dyluck, Mister Ark, I can’t really say that it has been the greatest pleasure in meeting you, and I can honestly say I don’t want to see either of you again in person, but I wish you the best of luck.”

Cekyura offered his hand.

“Thank you,” Lich spoke with a nod and his handshake.

Ark shook Cekyura’s hand with a simple nod.

“Right, Yoshies, this way,” he said, leading them to the door and opening it. “Eg’lk, please take them to Section Five where they can pick up their equipment, and then to the garage.”

“Yes, Mister Cekyura,” Eg’lk nodded, and ushered the Yoshies out the door, then followed with the other guards.

Cekyura then shut it after they passed through, leant his back against it, turned his gaze heavenward and sighed. “Never again.”