Page 90 of Dark Shaman: The Lost Treasure
When another tremor came, she wasn't surprised. This one felt sharper, more focused, as if the earth had found what it was looking for and was beginning to probe. The walls creaked in response, a sound she'd never heard before in all her years here.
Elias's arms tightened around her, though he didn't speak. He was awake too, lying in the darkness and waiting for what came next.
30
NABIN
The tremor jolted Nabin from his light sleep, years of military training bringing him to alertness before his eyes were fully open. His hand was already reaching for the kukri knife beside his bed when his mind caught up with his body. It was an earthquake, not an attack.
As if anyone would attack the harem, and even if some forces from the outside tried it, the legions of immortal warriors would take care of the invader. One human with a knife was worthless.
Still, he would protect his family if needed because the immortals would just let the humans die. They didn't value human life.
He sat up, listening to the structure settle around him. In his eleven years serving as security chief of the harem, he'd experienced dozens of these tremors. After all, the island sat on volcanic rock. But something about this one felt different. The duration, perhaps, or the rolling quality that suggested movement deep below rather than the sharp jolts of tectonic shifts.
His wife turned on her side. "What is it?"
"An earthquake."
"Oh." She turned to her other side and went back to sleep. His woman could sleep through anything.
As his walkie-talkie chimed, he knew it was Hassan before his name lit up the display.
"You felt it," Nabin said into the device.
"I'm already in the control room," Hassan answered, his Pakistani accent thickening with stress. "All systems are showing green, but that was a nasty one. Not big, but stinky. You know what I mean?"
Nabin rolled his eyes. All of Hassan's jokes were fart based.
"We should do a visual inspection. Let's start with Level Five. I don't want to bother the ladies for no reason."
"I'll meet you there in ten minutes."
Nabin dressed quickly in his black tactical pants and the gray shirt bearing the Harem Security insignia. The kukri went into its sheath at his hip. Lord Navuh permitted him this one cultural concession, recognizing perhaps that a Gurkha without his blade was like a bird without wings.
The corridors of Level Six were quiet as he made his way to the service elevator. Hassan was already waiting for him, his toolkit in hand.
"Any reports from the other levels?" Nabin asked as they descended.
"Nothing significant. A few residents woke up, and some items fell off shelves. The usual." Hassan adjusted his glasses, a nervous habit that intensified under stress. "I'm worried because of the duration of that tremor. It lasted nearly forty seconds. Usually, they last half of that."
They emerged onto Level Five, the first of the staff quarters. The hallway stretched before them, fluorescent lights humming steadily. Everything appeared normal—doors closed, no visible cracks in the walls or ceiling. They walked the perimeter systematically, Nabin checking security points while Hassan examined structural elements.
"Remember when we thought this would be temporary?" Hassan said quietly as they completed their circuit. "Fifteen years. Where did the time go?"
Nabin remembered his own recruitment vividly. A decorated Gurkha soldier honorably discharged and struggling to support his elderly parents. The offer had seemed like a gift from the gods—security work for a private employer, pay that would let him hire a caretaker for his parents and pay for all their other needs.
He hadn't known that this wasn't a job he would ever leave. The only exits were in boxes or weighted bags destined for the ocean floor.
"At least we were able to support our families," Nabin said. "That's more than most can say."
They'd had this conversation before, in various forms. It was part of their ritual, like checking the walls for cracks—probing old wounds to make sure they hadn't festered.
Nabin had married a sweet servant girl, and he would have been happy if they were allowed to have a child, but they were still waiting for their turn. The harem population was strictly controlled.
Level Six showed similar normalcy. A few residents poked their heads out as they passed, but Nabin waved them back to bed. "Just a routine check. Nothing to worry about."
The lie came easily. In this place, maintaining calm was as much a part of security as walking the hallways and monitoring the cameras.
