Chapter 16 Dave
DAVE
One week had passed since Navuh and the ladies had vanished, and everyone on the island still believed that their lord was in the harem with his ladies.
That was largely thanks to Dave and his clever compulsion of convincing everyone that Navuh was still around, but also to Losham, who had stepped into the leadership vacuum with the kind of smooth efficiency that suggested he'd been preparing for this moment for a long time.
Perhaps he had.
In an organization built on ambition and ruthlessness, every one of Navuh's sons probably dreamed of the day they'd take the top spot.
Dave wandered around the sprawling basement beneath Navuh's mansion, all eight of him spread across multiple areas, searching through storage rooms and alcoves.
The sensation of operating as one consciousness across eight bodies had become natural.
It was like having sixteen hands instead of two, each capable of independent movement while still answering to a single mind.
It was useful for searching. One body could examine a locked cabinet while another inventoried the contents of a supply closet. Information flowed between them seamlessly, each discovery instantly known to all eight and cataloged in their hive mind.
Their compulsion ability was growing stronger, too.
Or rather, more refined. In the early days after their awakening, the power had been a blunt instrument—effective but imprecise, like using a flamethrower to light a candle.
Now Dave was learning to wield it with precision, to plant specific suggestions rather than broad commands, and to layer compulsions with precision and subtlety.
It could be the benefit of having a steady supply of improved drugs.
The two Russian scientists were perfecting Zhao's formulas and refining the dosage.
As it turned out, getting smaller injections several times a day was better than having just one massive dose.
It felt good to be in control, to have a clearer combined mind.
Two parts of him had converged on something interesting in a section of the basement he hadn't explored before because it had been sealed behind a heavy steel door that required a keycard to access.
The keycard had been easy enough to obtain. A quick compulsion on one of the guards, and Dave had walked right through. He found works of art that might be valuable, either now or in the future, but they were of no interest to him.
Another part of him was exploring something much more intriguing.
A massive glass enclosure, stretching from floor to ceiling and spanning at least forty feet in length.
The glass walls were at least two inches thick, maybe more, and the glass had that slightly greenish tint that spoke of serious tempering.
This wasn't decorative. This was built as a containment chamber.
But of what?
The floor was covered with sand, dunes of it, golden and pristine, filling the enclosure like a miniature desert had been transplanted underground. The sand rose and fell in gentle waves, undisturbed by wind or footsteps, preserved in perfect stillness like a photograph of the Sahara.
Why would Navuh need a climate-controlled sand pit in his basement?
Dave moved closer, pressing one hand against the cool glass while another body circled around to examine the enclosure from a different angle. Climate control units hummed quietly along the ceiling, maintaining whatever temperature and humidity levels were required inside.
Dave crouched down, peering through the glass at the base of the nearest dune. The sand looked ordinary enough. It was fine-grained, pale gold, the kind you might find on any beach. There were no visible objects, no containers, no obvious signs of what might be buried beneath it.
Just sand. Mountains of it.
What is Navuh hiding in there?
He straightened and made his way to the controls. The security panel glowed red in the dim basement light, and as Dave examined the lock, he realized that it was biometric. A retinal scanner that was likely keyed to a single user.
Navuh.
Dave tried every bypass technique he knew, but the security system was sophisticated and impenetrable. It was impossible to hack an eyeball.
The irony wasn't lost on Dave. He could compel any human and immortal on this island to do his bidding, bend their will to his own, but he couldn't compel a machine. The scanner sat there, red light blinking steadily, utterly immune to the power that made Dave almost unstoppable.
Frustration bubbled up, and Dave tamped it down. Patience. There had to be another way.
He was still examining the lock when he heard footsteps approaching. Dave didn't turn around. He already knew who it was.
"What are you doing down here?" Losham asked, his voice echoing off the concrete walls and carrying that particular blend of authority and wariness that had characterized all their interactions since Navuh's disappearance.
Losham understood the necessity of that alliance, but he was also watching. Calculating. Preparing for the day when Dave's power might become so great that they wouldn't need the alliance anymore. When they could rule the island on their own.
Smart of him. Dave would have done the same if the roles were reversed.
"I'm cataloging Lord Navuh's possessions," Dave said, and the words came from three mouths simultaneously, the two near the glass enclosure and a third that had been cataloging storage containers on the far end of the basement.
The effect was intentional. A reminder of what Dave was, what he could do.
Losham's jaw tightened, but he covered it well. "Have you found anything interesting?"
"We found a storage room full of artwork. It might be valuable now or in the future."
Losham smiled. "I advised Lord Navuh to invest in art. It's a good investment in any economy because it is independent of the fiat currencies that get systematically devalued."
"I wouldn't know." Dave, or rather two parts of him, turned toward the glass enclosure. "We think this is even more interesting than art."
Losham moved closer, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sand-filled chamber. "Any idea what is in there?"
"We hoped you would know."
"I haven't been here recently." Losham circled the enclosure, studying it from multiple angles just as Dave had done. "This is new."
Dave tapped the security panel. "Biometric lock. Retinal scanner. Keyed, no doubt, to Lord Navuh alone."
"Can you bypass it?"
"No. We've tried every technique we know. Without Navuh's eyeball, we're not getting in."
Losham made a huffing sound. "The submarine is the same. I've searched his quarters for fingerprints that could be lifted off surfaces, but the cleaning staff were too thorough. They didn't leave any prints intact."
Losham pressed his palm against the glass, staring at the sand within. "What do you think is in there?"
"Something valuable enough to warrant climate control and two-inch-thick tempered glass." Dave moved to stand beside him. "Something that needs to be preserved in specific conditions. The temperature in there is being maintained at eighty-five degrees. Humidity at fifteen percent."
"Desert conditions."
"Approximately, yes."
Losham examined the glass with a frown. "We could blow up the glass. It's thick, but it's still glass. Enough explosives will shatter anything."
Dave had considered that option and dismissed it. "Look at the climate control system. Whatever is inside requires precise environmental conditions. An explosion would compromise that. The temperature spike, the pressure change, and the debris contamination could ruin whatever is there."
"You think something is buried under the sand?" Losham asked.
It was a rhetorical question.
"Why else would there be so much of it? This isn't decoration. The sand is there to conceal something, and whatever it is, Navuh considered it important enough to build this elaborate enclosure for it."
"The enclosure is new," Losham said. "It was built after the flooding in the harem. Whatever is under the sand must have been moved from there."
"I'm surprised he didn't share the information with you," Dave said. "He brought you in as his right-hand man and yet kept things from you."
The words landed exactly as Dave intended.
Losham's expression hardened. "We need to find out what is in there.
The glass is impenetrable without explosives, and the entry is sealed behind biometrics we can't bypass.
But the enclosure isn't floating in space.
It's built into the basement infrastructure.
Perhaps we can drill through the walls." Losham pointed to the far end of the enclosure, where the glass met solid stone.
"The glass is set into the wall, but the wall itself is probably just concrete and rebar.
Standard construction. We can breach it with the right equipment—jackhammers, excavation tools, patience. "
"It would take time," Dave said. "Days, probably. Maybe a week depending on how thick the walls are. But we can keep it controlled and breach the enclosure without disturbing what is inside. At least not too much."
"I'll assign a crew, and you will need to keep them compelled.
I don't want rumors spreading about this for obvious reasons.
Our charade will be exposed if anyone finds out we are digging through the mansion's basement walls.
" Losham turned to leave. "I need to question the guards who assisted with the harem evacuation.
Maybe they know what was taken out of there and brought here.
Although Navuh probably compelled them to keep it a secret. "
"Regrettably, we're not strong enough yet to break through his compulsion."
"Not yet," Losham said. "But you're getting stronger."
"The effect of Navuh's compulsion will fade over time," Dave said. "Eventually, the guards will be able to talk, and we'll learn what they know."
"By then, we will have other worries."
Dave understood what Losham implied. The compulsion was what kept the thousands of warriors on this island in check. It maintained order and obedience across an army that would tear itself apart without that mental leash.
When Navuh's compulsion faded completely, someone would need to replace it. Someone would need to step into that role to become the new voice that the army obeyed without question.
Dave intended to be that someone.
"We'll deal with that when it happens," Dave said. "For now, let's focus on what's behind this glass."
Losham nodded and left, his footsteps fading up the corridor toward the stairs.
Dave remained, all eight of him converging on the glass enclosure, eight pairs of eyes staring at the sand within.
The dunes seemed to shimmer in the artificial light, golden, mysterious, and silent.