Chapter Fourteen: The Iesh'sha
Thursday, early afternoon
Standing as tall as she could, Saja tried to look imposing. "Are you the representative?"
The grown man shrank down. "Yez, miss." He ducked his head in an awkward bow and spread his arms. "I am your hamble zervant." He spoke Iesh'sha slowly and with a heavy accent, but much more fluently than the last "representative." He wore a neat white jacket and pants trimmed with silver, and a belt full of mysterious technology bits and baubles.
Saja planted her hands on her hips to help prevent any swaying. She lowered her eyebrows in what she hoped was a haughty look. "Are you going to fulfill my simple request, or give me excuses?" She felt her knees wobble, and moved her left hand from her hip to the table there; the brown-haired man flinched. I feel like a horrible person, pretending to be an Iesh'sha. That people are almost as powerful as they are haughty. On the other hand, at least I speak a language they know so that I can hopefully find my turtle host's brother. He was so kind to me.
"Yez, miss. I—ze zill do all ze can tuh grant your rekkest."
Her knees threatened to give way. "First off," Saeyaja blurted, "do you force one of the mighty Iesh'sha to stand all day?"
The man called a word and gestured, and one of similarly clad other officials, who had been looking anxiously on from a safe distance, rushed in with a chair.
Saja collapsed gratefully onto it, and forced herself not to thank them.
"Some water, and food." She held out her hand as if she was already holding a cup. I don't think the great Parvoss would be proud of me right now. Or would he approve of my bravery in acting?
"Yov course, miss!"
While the humans rushed about, Saeyaja took in her surroundings a little more. She sat in a grand foyer of an official building in one of the human cities. Reflective gray tiles, highlighted by black strips of carpet on the main pathways, made up the floor. The walls were gleaming white or black glass, decorated by bursts of color in the form of geometric stained-glass windows high on the walls. Neat shards of crystal hung at regular intervals from the matte white ceiling; Saja wasn't sure if they provided the light or not. Besides the massive receptionist's desk to her left, Saja saw benches and chairs around the edges of the huge foyer, interspersed with decorative plants of metal or green glass.
She hadn't picked up what the people called themselves, but the sentient animals were called 'Deutsu,' and either 'Othila' or 'Da'an,' depending on whether they liked obeying the humans or not. She had seen a few on her short walk to this city hall or whatever official building it was. Like last time, she contemplated how odd it was to see animals walking upright like people. The animals in the stories about Lady Lamaki were just animals, even if they could talk.
She had found herself in one of the city's beautiful gardens when she teleported in, and had forced herself to remain upright long enough to yell at a man in Iesh'sha. He had been confused and angry at first, but when she continued to act arrogantly and speak Iesh'sha, he had realized what language she was speaking, and had fallen for her act. He had led her here, and she had managed to communicate, between angry gestures and an official's broken Iesh'sha, that she required a bed. Once they understood, the officials had whisked her upstairs to a luxurious bedchamber immediately. I wish I had been able to ask after Raphael right away, but that first official didn't understand enough Iesh'sha. Besides, Donatello was right—I shouldn't've left his home just yet. And it wouldn't do to be found sleeping in the bushes and then claim I'm an Iesh'sha.
Now, after a night's rest, she was alive enough to come downstairs and order people around. Remember, don't be happy with anything, or they'll realize you're not really an Iesh'sha. I'm surprised they haven't questioned my shabby clothes yet. Or my age.
Once Saja's hunger was well on its way to being satisfied from a beautiful glass plate of fruit and slightly sweet sliced bread, the translator approached from the semicircle of officials fidgeting a respectful distance away. "Yiv you care tuh zait just a zhort time, miss, our ambazador to the Iesh'sha zill arrife vrom the capital city, and he zill be able tuh speak your maztervul tongue much better than I, and fulfill your rekkests better."
Alarm flashed through Saja. A real ambassador will know at once that I am not an Iesh'sha. She slammed her fist onto the wooden arm of the chair. "Why would you think I would want to wait?" Ow.
The entire line of officials flinched at this outburst; Saja felt a bit guilty, but reminded herself how many times she had observed people boasting about serving an Iesh'sha.
"Z-ze zill do our best tuh zerve you in hiz abzenze, miss," the representative finally said. "Please, tell uz your rekkest."
Now that she finally had their attention, Saja forced them to wait. Iesh'sha love to make their hosts sweat by not telling them what they want right away. She nibbled on the bunches of a pale orange fruit that burst a tiny explosion of sweet juice in her mouth and finished off her bread and water. She waited until her glass had been refilled before she shifted in her seat and spoke.
"I am looking for a certain animal—what do you call them? Deutsu? I don't care. There is a certain turtle whose name is Raphael. I need him."
Confusion crawled across the representative's face. "Zhy zould you need-" He stopped himself and bowed. "Ze zill vind him iv ze can." He backed away and spoke in his own tongue to his fellow officials. They all sounded confused, too, but after a moment, a lady trotted over to some sort of computer at the receptionist's desk. She clacked away much like Donatello had, but finally shook her head at the representative and said something.
"Ze do not haff a record of thiz Ravael," came the translated report from the representative, who suddenly looked as nervous as a warrior before a great beast he should not have awakened, "but, zome ov the Deutsu—the animals ze haff created—haff renamed themzelves. Pleaze, do not be angry. Ze zill look vor him still, iv he… is to be vound. Unless…" he hesitated. "Ze zould be happy to giff you any Deutsu you pleaze, turtle or other animal, and you could name him Ravael?"
With a scream, Saja jumped to her feet and threw both her empty plate and her full glass of water to the ground. I feel like a spoiled child. Which is basically what the Iesh'sha are—just spoiled children with a massive army.
The representative took several steps backward; the other officials jumped visibly.
"No! I must have the turtle named Raphael! Find him quickly! And do not harm him!" This shouting done, Saja slumped back into her chair with crossed arms. Oh, that took a lot of energy. I'm still too tired to be so angry.
"Yov courze, miss," the representative said, eyes still a bit wide.
Two Deutsu, one ferret and one iguana, slipped in with broom, dustpan, and mop to clean up the broken glass and spilled water. None of the humans acknowledged them or even seemed to notice them.
"Our deepezt apologies vor zuggezting it. Ze zill vind your Ravael as zoon as ve can."
Thursday, dusk
Twilight's amber light mixed with deep shadows over the rooftops as Don sped over them. His sore, tired body jumped pipes, did flips and rolls, and climbed fire escapes on autopilot while his mind mulled over the Gamer's text: "Bonus level Red now available. Here's the address."
As much as I'd like to believe that I just have to do another crazy task to get Raph back, I don't trust the Gamer. He said earlier that he had no idea where Raph and Casey went or how to get to them… and I think, for all his planning and carefulness, he tends to blurt out more than he intends sometimes. Besides, if I wasn't almost positive that Raph disappeared into thin air like Raph said Casey did, I'm sure now after seeing Saja vanish right before my eyes. If he hadn't been running, Don would have shaken his head in disbelief. I've seen a lot of crazy things, but seeing someone vanish from existence was one of the weirdest. Especially without any sort of understanding as to how she did it.
As he approached the address, Don slowed and started to pay attention. It wasn't long before he spotted a rooftop patrol of Foot. He slipped past them and traveled two more rooftops before he saw another patrol on the ground level. This is a trap, his instincts muttered. Don glanced around and found a hiding spot in a deep purple shadow.
From his belt he pulled forth his housefly bot. I guess it's a good thing Mikey hasn't woken up from last night's adventure yet; he'd either be teasing me about the fly, making up insect-related puns, or too impatient to wait for me to scout it out from here. Don's fingers slowed in setting up the tiny control screen. Mikey. Besides a few cuts and bruises, Don's examination—as thorough as he could be without moving Mikey up off the couch—had yielded no reason for Mikey's jolts and odd behavior. But he hadn't been able to ask him; every time he checked on Mikey, he had still been asleep.
Don sighed and finished with the fly's setup. With this unexpected tool, he flew down to the ground level of the building in question: another, smaller office building. It looked abandoned like the obstacle course building had last night, but Don landed the fly on an opposite wall and peered at the doors. Distrust rustled in his stomach. Don buzzed the fly over to the doors, and after some crawling, discovered to his delight a gap big enough for the fly to crawl through.
The reception area and cubicles inside were dimly lit but appeared uninhabited. The fly crawled and buzzed across the ceiling to peer in the cubicles. When he came to the last one, Don squinted at the pixelated representation of some sort of wired box. What is that? It's definitely some sort of technology… Maybe that 'techno whacko' tech Mikey mentioned? Wait a second… Don's eyes widened. That's a bomb.
The fly started making its way back towards the door as Don chuckled nervously but silently to himself. Well, I guess that definitely qualifies as a second false lead.