"As you say, the living world is the source of all mana, and mankind has not been kind to the natural world," Laverty answered solemnly.
"So dere was magic before da Awakening," Kham said.
Laverty spoke in a coy tone. "The evidence does seem strong, doesn't it?"
"And there are cycles of magic, with this but the latest," Neko said.
"If you wish to believe in cycles, perhaps you should go talk to Ehran the Scribe. I'm sure he will be happy to expound on the subject. On the other hand, such effort may not be worth your while."
Ehran? Was Urdli a street name for the Scribe elf? "He's not da odder elf, is he?" Kham asked suspiciously.
Laverty laughed as his window started to slide up. "Your small friend knows better than that." The elf was still smiling as the panel winked to opacity and the car began to roll. The conversation was over.
Kham stared stupidly as the limo pulled the rest of the way into the garage and the roll-down grill slid into place, preventing them from following. What more could he have said or done? Would Laverty have helped if Kham had asked? He doubted it. For all his friendliness, the red-haired elf was still playing his own game, whatever it was. But Laverty's departure without threats or warnings suggested that he would not interfere should Kham and the others take up arms against the elf who had tried to kill them. Or the whole thing might just be an elven way to set them up.
"Now what?" Neko asked.
"Now we go see about dat fraggin' splinter."
"Good evening, gentlemen," the labcoat said when he met them at the back door of the facility. He looked something like a lab rat himself, all pointy nose and white hair and chinless face, but Cog had vouched for his abilities. Besides his price wasn't too bad. He led them inside and down a corridor that smelled of things Kham couldn't identify, but didn't like anyway. When they reached a room full of humming machines, computer workstations, and glass-fronted cabinets, the labcoat picked up a small glass vial with the remains of their sample and said, "I'd like to ask you a lot of questions about where you got this."
"Ya ain't gettin' paid ta ask questions, just ta answer 'em."
"No need to get testy. I understand the terms of our agreement. As soon as I can verify the transfer of the rest of the agreed-upon price, I'll answer your questions as best I can."
Kham thought there was something off about the labcoat. The guy was too edgy. Nevertheless, he agreed to the transfer, watching quietly while the scientist verified it. More credits gone. Kham hoped it was worth it. Letting his impatience show, he asked, "How old is it?"
The labcoat sat back in his chair and folded his hands in front of him. "Very."
"Dat all ya'got ta say?" Kham was livid. "You're supposed ta be an expert."
"No violence!" The labcoat was sweating. "There are guards within call."
"Dey ain't gonna be fast enough," Kham said as he pulled his Uzi. "You're gonna do better or you're gonna get ventilated."
Neko spoke from beside him. "That will not help our position, Kham. There are a lot of guards."
"Fine by me."
"But not by me. Perhaps we should let this man tell us more. We certainly have paid for more. I am sure an expert of his caliber has more to tell us."
Kham grimaced, reluctantly holstering his weapon. "Suppose so."
The labcoat looked relieved, but his sweat had stained wide circles under the arms of his labcoat, and he stank. He tried putting a good face on it, though. "No supposition about my expertise, chummer. But I can't tell you what I don't know. This little sliver of yours is a puzzle."
"Elucidate," Neko suggested.
"Yeah," Kham agreed. "And tell us everything about it, too."
The labcoat smiled in a way that told Kham that he'd shown his ignorance and allowed the guy to feel superior again.
"Normally, we can place the age of wood by comparing the pattern of the growth rings with catalogued patterns from trees of known age, but your sample was too small for a dedrochronological analysis. The standard dating technique for organic material is a ra-diometric analysis using carbon 14. It is based on a comparison between the amount of carbon 14 remaining in the sample to the known ratio for living organisms, a fairly constant value. There are some variations in the ratio over time, so there are some correction factors to be applied, but in general, the method is quite accurate. The analysis was quite simple, but I didn't believe the results at first because the wood seemed so recent."
"Just what didn't ya believe?"
"All of the carbon 14 has been converted to nitrogen 14."
"So how old does dat make it?"
"I don't know."
"Whaddya mean, ya don't know?"
"I can't tell. The carbon 14 method is only good to about fifty thousand years before the present era. In organic materials older than that, all the carbon 14 has been converted, just as in this case. So, without knowing the context or having no other material that might be datable by another method, I cannot tell you how old this wood is." He held up the small vial and ruefully frowned at it. "Beyond saying that it is likely more than fifty thousand years old. Perhaps if you gave me more information? Some sample of the sediments in which it was found?"
Kham started to lose his temper again, but Neko touched his arm in a gesture that was becoming familiar. Kham clamped down his anger while the cat-boy reached out and took the vial from the labcoat.
"Arigato, doctor. We appreciate your efforts."
They didn't talk about it until they had gone to ground at Club Penumbra. The noise, and the club staff, were their insulation, making them safe from listeners. Jim brought them beers. Kham downed his, but Neko just leaned over his glass and said, "You realize what this means?''
"Yeah," Kham groused. "We just blew too much nuyen on a wurtless labcoat. Dat stick of wood ain't any help."
Neko chuckled. "Not directly. But its existence is highly suggestive."
"Of what?"'
"Of the longevity of elves and their magic. That frame was built by human, or metahuman, hands more than fifty thousand years ago. The carving and the construction were too advanced for the primitive cultures of the time, even if there had been any in the Salish-Shidhe back then. The carvings on the frame were derivative of those on the crystal, further suggesting that the crystal itself and whoever carved it are older still."
"Ya tinkda elves did it?"
"They knew where to find it."
"Yeah, so dey did." Pieces were beginning to line up, suspicions turning to certainty. If there were elves, there was magic, and if there were really old magic, the elves weren't telling the whole story. Maybe that Ehran the Scribe elf was the one telling the truth. Maybe there were cycles to the magic. It all swirled around into one shape, one thought that kept hanging there before Kham's eyes. Old magic meant old elves. Old elves that looked like kids. Immortality. "Dey got it, don't dey?"
"It seems so."
"Ya want it, catboy?"
Neko sat silently for a moment. "Personally? No."
That was not the answer Kham had expected, but the catboy sounded sincere. "Why not?"
"Personal reasons."
"Ya been a good chummer. I ain't gonna pry. But I gotta know sumpin' else. Ya gonna help?"
Neko raised an eyebrow. "That depends."
"Can't pay ya, leastways not yet."
"Then you are going after it."
Kham's throat was dry. He was scared. Going after the crystal meant going up against Glasgian and maybe the whole Tir council. He had a right to be scared. But the prize. Oh, the prize! "Gotta try."
Neko smiled tightly. "I have to admit to being curious about the result." "Den you're in?" "I'm in."
PART 3