Page 26 of Talk Story

She was only a cat, if a darned perspicacious one.

“Check this section.” Pali moved his headlamp to illuminate the upper left portion of the wall. “This is the oldest layer. The figures are different from the ones below; the strokes are deeper, the style more formal. These symbols mark the founding families of the valley, the ones who established the loʻi, the heiau, the village.” He traced a finger through the air, near but not touching the stone. “The Opuna line is represented here. The warrior figure with the ‘Iwa wing over the shoulder; that’s their mark—they are the hereditary kahu.”

“Uncle Kalani’s family,” I said.

“Going back twelve generations, at least.” He moved his beam to the right. “This cluster of figures arranged around a double-hulled canoe are later arrivals. A family that came from outside and was accepted into the valley’s structure. They were given a portion of the cultivation rights in exchange for . . .” he pointed to a symbol I hadn’t identified before, a small rectangular mark above each of the canoe figures . . .“record-keeping. This family was made up of scholars. They kept count of what was grown, what was shared, what was traded.”

“That’s your family,” I guessed.

“That’s what my great-grandmother said. That symbol is for our family name, Moku. We were the keepers of knowledge for the Valley.” He shook his head a little and his headlight swung to-and-fro. “What’s weird is that, before I knew that history, I was already a permit review advocate and archeology student. I spend my life filing objections and tracking development records to try to protect Hawaiian rights. I study the past to understand our people better.” He gazed at the wall. “I guess some things don’t change much.”

“And this section?” Lei pointed her beam to a lower area where the figures were arranged differently from the ones above. These were tighter, more densely clustered, with a different depth to the lines.

“You told us yesterday those were a later addition,” I said.

“Post contact, according to Dr. Emerson,” Pali said. “The carving style changed after Western arrival. You can see that different tools were used, here and here.” He pointed. “The figures feature the same families, but the symbols around them are different.” He pointed to a series of rectangular marks interspersed with the family glyphs. “Nainoa and I think these are land parcels. Specific plots being assigned to specific lineages, which is a Western concept. Recorded here because they’d learned that paper records could be changed, stolen, or conveniently lost.” Pali’s voice stayed level, but there was tension in his words. “They carved records in stone in a secret place because they thought they would be harder to erase.”

“Until someone started cutting it out of the wall,” I said. “Maybe that’s why Pearl’s brother hid the archive in these caves, too.”

“Yeah.” He glanced back at us, tilting his headlamp down so it didn’t shine in our eyes. “I’m not sure where to find the archive, but I’m eager to try.”

Lei had moved in to photograph the empty rectangles near the floor, where six missing panels had left spaces neat as pulled teeth. “The sections they took were likely post-contact land records, if the carvings followed a logical pattern.” She crouched beside the nearest empty space, examining its edges with her headlamp. “It seems to me like these thieves knew what they were hunting for. Someone read this wall and selected the right evidence that could be used in a land rights challenge.” She glanced up and her light illuminated Pali’s face. “Not too many people in the world would be able to read these.”

A gust of wind made a low, whistling noise from the entrance. Tiki gave a questioning mew; I shivered as chill air moved over my bare arms.

“Dr. Emerson could read this wall,” Pali said, slowly. “He’s the only other person I ever brought here—yesterday’s field trip and present company excepted.”

Though he said this without accusation, we were all considering what it might mean: the truck in the empty parking lot and the man’s phone going to voicemail.

Either Dr. Emerson was in on the destruction of the petroglyphs, or he’d been kidnapped so he could read them for someone else—and guide their removal.

“We need to photograph every remaining section,” Pali said abruptly. “Before anything else disappears.” He pulled a DSLR camera out of his large, heavy-looking pack. “I wanted to search for the archive, but this is priority. I’ll shoot like I’d do any archeology documentation, using a grid with a high-resolution setup. This is going to take a couple of hours.”

“We’ve got the time, because I have to install this surveillance system.” I toed the heavy duffel I’d lugged into the Valley.

“And I’m going to inspect those boulders that fell outside the cave entrance on behalf of Hana Police Department,” Lei said. “Malia still hasn’t found anyone able to take the time to come out and examine the rockfall for evidence of tampering. I’ll let you know what the evidence shows when I’m done.” She strode off toward the entrance of the cave.

I consulted with Pali about where to put the motion-activated cameras and then set about installing them with the help of the tools I’d packed from the shack.

I eventually had the cameras set up and was coordinating views and tweaking lighting settings on my phone when Lei’s headlamp came bobbing back to us.

“Seems like those rocks were sabotaged,” she said, brushing dirt off her pants. “The rocks themselves weren’t damaged, but when I climbed up the cliff a bit to see where they’d been dislodged from, it was clear some kind of small charge had been used to get them moving.”

I frowned. “How did they know when we’d be out here?”

“That’s a good lead to follow,” Lei said. “Malia or I will interview each of you who went on the original excursion; maybe we can find the leak that way. Meanwhile, shouldn’t we put one of those cameras at the cave entrance to catch the faces of anyone coming in?”

“Already thought of that.” I held up and waggled the last camera. “Want to give me a hand installing it? Pali said he’s nearly finished.” The young archaeologist had worked his way around a bend in the cave wall, and only the glow of his light was still visible.

Tiki relocated herself to the center of the cave floor and sat, grooming her whiskers and watching the goings-on. What was going on in that feline brain of hers? Maybe she’d wanted to come along to protect me.

Eventually Pali rejoined Lei and I at the cave opening, where I was testing the camera’s activation, notifications, and tracking by making Lei, and then Tiki, walk through the entrance repeatedly to set off the system.

“You about done?” Pali’s voice had a rough note; he coughed. “Inhaled a little dust.”

Lei handed him a water bottle and he took a generous swig; after wiping his mouth he tried to hand it back. “Keep it. I’ve got another.”

He drank some more, then pointed deeper into the cave with the bottle. “I have something to show you in the oldest section; the area around the corner.”