On the south shore of the island, they found the settlement.
From the hill just before it, they could see the roofing of simple houses, about twenty at a rough count. On the distant shore, there was an old dock with about three boats moored. There were probably a lot more there usually, but they’d be out fishing right now.
“Anything I should watch out for?” asked Tessa. “Local taboos and the like?”
“Not really. The area’s been Catholic for over a hundred years. They’ve even got a church over there,” said Ronnie, pointing out a building that looked like a town hall, with a wooden cross atop its gabled roof.
Ah, I guess it is a church... thought Tessa.
“Did you think they still practiced cannibalism?”
“Of course not,” she replied. “I just asked to be safe.”
They rode down the hill, parked the motorcycle, and entered the village together. A free-range chicken strode across the unpaved road, and children much younger than Bani played with a plastic ball beside one of the houses.
Ronnie asked them something in the local language. The kids answered with smiles, seeming to recognize him. Turning to Tessa, he said, “They say the chief is in the church.”
The almost naked children pointed at Tessa and sounded very excited.
Tessa waved and smiled. “What are they saying?” she asked Ronnie.
“They’re not used to people like you, that’s all. Let’s go,” he responded bluntly, and began walking towards the church. Tessa had no choice but to follow along.
She could tell the village was poor. Most of the houses were a combination of wood and corrugated iron, covered in a patchwork of repairs. They did seem to have electricity here, but she wondered how often it worked.
Several of the women had come together to knit and mend nets. They used rope made of braided palm or some other kind of leaves to make souvenirs, likely to supplement their income. As she had intuited from the number of boats in the dock, most of the men seemed to be out fishing.
And this is where Bani grew up... Tessa thought. Ronnie had told her that the church had a school. Theoretically, Ronnie went to that school too, but...
“It’s not exactly an education,” he laughed. “They’re just happy if you learn to read and write your own name and do basic arithmetic. The adults here think learning how to fish is way more important.”
“I see...”
“It’s the chief who does the teaching,” said Ronnie, “but he’s always asking me to stand in. One time he got really persistent, so I ended up teaching a class.”
“What did you teach?” asked Tessa.
“Science. I did a demonstration of how alkali metals explode in water. I started with sodium, then went onto potassium, rubidium, and at last, cesium. The explosions got bigger and bigger. The kids loved it, but the chief didn’t ask me to teach ever again.”
“I would imagine not. How did you acquire metals in sufficient amounts, though?”
“Oh, one of my gaming buddies is friends with an assistant professor at MIT, so he sent me some good stuff in exchange for rare items.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” remarked Tessa.
Ronnie’s exploits aside, she had gotten the drift of the local education system, and they didn’t seem to have much in the way of books. If most of the villagers didn’t even know how to read or write, how had Bani Morauta developed world-class intelligence? Obviously, he wouldn’t have had someone smart, like Ronnie, to debate with back then. Even with the help of the Whispers, it would probably have been quite challenging for him to have learned just about anything.
Did Bani like his hometown? That strange thought drifted up in the back of Tessa’s mind.
“Here we are,” said Ronnie. “I’ll find him.”
As they arrived in front of the church, Ronnie called out something in the local language and ran around behind the building. A man of just about fifty came out soon after. He wasn’t dressed in local garb, but in a beat-up print T-shirt. Perhaps he’d been doing some repairs to the building, because he was also holding a rusty bradawl.
“This is the village chief, Mr. Matassi. Chief, this is Teletha Mantissa.” Ronnie introduced them.
Tessa nodded politely. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Matassi.”
“Hmm, ah, thank you for coming all the way to our empty little village, miss,” Matassi said.
She was glad there were people here who spoke English, heavily accented as it was.
He went on to say, “So, I hear you had something to ask me?”
“Yes,” Tessa replied. “Did you know Bani Morauta? He was a friend of mine.”
Matassi narrowed his eyes and gazed out over the ocean. “Bani. Bani Morauta, eh?” he mused. “I remember him well. A bright boy. Ronnie there is smart, too, but Bani was polite and better mannered. And smarter, I’d say. Wah ha ha.”
“That’s a mean thing to say, Chief.” Ronnie acted like he might hit him, but Matassi just laughed. He seemed to enjoy Ronnie’s presence.
“You know that Bani died two years ago?” Tessa asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “A lawyer came with his possessions and his ashes. The name was... ah...”
“Allen Moseley?” Tessa prompted. This was the (fake) name of a Mithril agent she’d read about in reports before, though she’d never met him herself. He was usually the one in charge of conveying the news and belongings of dead combatants to their families.
“Yes, I think that was his name,” Matassi agreed. “He told Bani’s family that he died in an accident on the job. Some machine with a complicated name blew up, and a screw went through his head at high speed. It was such a tragedy.”
Obviously, they couldn’t have told them he shot himself. Tessa was quietly grateful for the agent’s tact.
“When he was about ten years old, Bani sent a letter to some big scientist in Denmark or somewhere. His intelligence was recognized, and he was scouted by some big-shot laboratory. Ah... are you involved with them, then?”
“Well, we were in different departments, but we often talked in the cafeteria.” Tessa was hoping to avoid lying, so she kept her comments vague.
“I see,” said Matassi. “There must have been a lot of smart people there. He was a prodigy out here in the sticks, but I’ll bet he struggled a bit more out there.”
“No, he was the best there, too.”
“Ah, well. Small mercies.” Matassi didn’t seem to believe Tessa, though, interpreting her words as mere flattery for the departed.
He really was the best, though. Maybe even the best in the world...
“And so... er, where is his family?” she asked next. “I’d like to pay my respects.”
“Oh, they’re gone.”
“What?”
“There seemed to be a lot of inheritance and condolence money, so his death left them rich overnight,” Matassi explained. “They had no reason to stay here in the sticks.”
“I see...” That does make sense, Tessa thought. I wonder why I never considered that possibility. Out loud she said, “Where are they now? Do you have their address or contact information?”
“I’m sorry, dear, but I don’t. I wanted to rebuild the church, but they refused all my requests for donations. They started to fight more often with the locals, and basically left on bad terms. I haven’t heard from them since,” Matassi clarified. “I hope they’re not spending the money in foolish ways, but... It’s not good to have money beyond your means. I feel bad about asking them for that donation, too.”
“Any clues at all?”
“Sorry, but no. And...” Matassi stopped. He seemed to be hesitating over what to say next.
“What is it?” Tessa asked.