The Rising Sea (NUMA Files 15)

“Precisely,” Kenzo said. “We have a replica I will show you later. You’ll see that lizards were actually Chinese dragons and the ball that tumbled out would be caught by the mouth of a bronze frog. You should not omit such details.”

“I told you we’d find dragons in here,” Joe said.

“Statues don’t count,” Kurt replied, before turning to Kenzo. “I hope we’re relying on more than brass drums and large-mouthed frogs here.”

“Come with me,” Kenzo said. “I’ll show you.”

Kenzo led them across the foyer and down a hall. Kurt noticed how Akiko never left his side—not like a servant, more like a bodyguard.

They passed through a courtyard and then along a parapet that ran above the water. The lake was like glass beneath the moonlight, and a dry moat could be seen between the outer wall and the castle.

Joe tapped Kurt excitedly on the shoulder. “What about those?” he said, pointing.

Kurt glanced down into the moat. He saw several Komodo dragons, prowling on their short, stubby legs. “How about that. There be dragons here.”

Joe grinned. “I’d like to see them eat.”

“Maybe later,” Kenzo said.

He led them over the moat on a small bridge and they entered a large open room. The décor was a strange mix of ancient Japanese and early industrial.

A glass atrium covered part of the ceiling and one entire wall. Copper fixtures and pipes ran along the opposite wall, disappearing behind bamboo panels. Red velvet couches occupied the center of the room, inviting them to sit by a warm fire that crackled in an old stone hearth. Cluttered all around were polished wooden tables, antique globes and strange examples of mechanical equipment replete with springs, levers and visible gears.

Some of the contraptions held weapons; others had valves and small pressure tanks attached to them, perhaps someone’s idea of ancient diving equipment. Still others were beyond understanding.

In one corner stood an old hand-cranked Gatling gun.

“Reminds me of an antiques store,” Gamay said.

Kurt had to grin. He enjoyed eccentricity and this place did not disappoint. “There’s a certain flavor to it, I must admit.”

Kenzo walked to the far wall and stopped in front of a large cabinet. “This is my detector,” he said.

He opened one of the stained-glass doors to reveal the workings, which included hundreds of thin and tightly strung wires. Glittering crystals were suspended in the wires like insects in a spider’s web. Each of them a different shape and size.

“As you probably know,” Kenzo explained, “quartz crystals vibrate when placed in an electrical field. These wires of gold are perfect electrical conductors. When the earthquakes occur, a great deal of mechanical energy is released. Some of it becomes electromagnetic. As that energy emanates outward from the Earth, it passes over the wires, which conduct the electrical charge to the crystal and create a harmonic vibration. That gives us the signal of the Z-wave. And since no one else is using such a design, no one else can detect them.”

“What’s this?” Joe asked from a few yards away.

Joe was a born wanderer, curious to a fault. He’d already stepped away from the bulky cabinet and was standing in front of a large wall map, complete with silver-leaf borders. Like everything else in the room, it was ancient-looking, in some ways, but had been marked with myriad lines that were drawn in modern red pen.

“Those are the courses each bank of Z-waves took,” Kenzo explained.

Paul accompanied Kenzo to where Joe stood. Kurt moved up beside Gamay, watching from a distance. It was clear who the skeptics in the group were.

Kenzo reached for a tarnished protractor. Using it as a pointer, he directed their attention to the long straight lines. “Each incoming wave was measured in strength and charted. They come from individual events, which I call ghost quakes since no one sees them but us. Unfortunately, I can only plot the direction they came from, not their precise location. But they propagated along these headings.”

“Why can’t you determine a location?” Gamay asked.

“It requires a second station,” Kenzo insisted. “Like intercepting a radio signal, one receiver can give you direction, but it requires two receivers and the crossed lines they create to get a fix.”

“So why not set up a second station?”

“We have,” Kenzo insisted, “but there have been no additional events in the week since I did so.”

Kurt whispered to Gamay, “Sounds like running out of film just as Bigfoot stumbles into your camp.”

“Amazing how often that happens,” she said.