Seeds of Earth (12 page)

Shared values?
Greg thought. It seemed like a strange declaration to make, one he would normally have latched on to and probed until its meaning became clearer. But he decided to say nothing and let the man talk.

'As for remains of vanished cultures, some colony worlds have reported quite a few finds - habitable planets near the ancient centres and flows of galactic civilisation usually provide some evidence of previous occupation. As soon as major discoveries are made, however, the sites are supposed to be opened up for inspection by the Grand Commission for Antiquities unless a commission signatory files an objection. In the case of Darien, four have done so - four, which is almost unheard of. Earthsphere was first to file under rights of sovereignty and duty of care towards the Uvovo; the Brolturans then filed their objections with the Commission, claiming that the Darien system lies within a tract of space promised to them by their god, Voloasku, as explicitly written in the
Omgur,
their divine scripture ...'

'Voloasku? So who's Voloasti? - I heard that mentioned by someone.'

'That's the supreme being of the Hegemony's orthodox creed,' Lavelle said. 'Also supported by their version of the
Omgur
which, for some reason, hasn't led to similar claims.'

'You cannot be serious,' Greg said, laughing.

'I'm afraid I am,' Lavelle said. 'The third to object was the Second Spiral Sage of Buranj, who claimed that your temple's position on a jutting promontory exactly matches the description of the tomb of the divine FatherSage Arksasbe. He also insists that the defiling presence of non-believers ceases immediately.'

Greg stared at him for an astonished moment, then leaned forward to gaze out at the worn walls and columns, the Uvovo scholars working in a stepped trench near the northern barrier and the Rus researchers, who were patiently sifting dirt removed from the test ditches over to the south. Then he looked back at Lavelle, smiling.

'Unfortunately, Marcus, it doesn't look as though these non-believers are likely to drop what they are doing. And in fact, I think that my own non-devoutness has actually deepened since learning of the esteemed Second Spiral Sage's decree ... by the way, is there a First Spiral Sage?'

'Oh yes, but he's far too devout to be sullied by temporal matters.'

'But of course. So who filed the fourth objection?'

'The Hegemony. They argued that the Grand Commission of Antiquities cannot carry out its work until the conflicting claims of sovereignty and title have been resolved. Accordingly, all four objectors have appointed adjudicators and the first hearings will take place soon.' Lavelle grinned. 'The whole process could take two or three years!'

Greg smiled uncertainly. 'You seem very pleased about all of this, Marcus, and I don't know why.'

'Well, if the Commission's inspectors had been empowered to oversee this site, you and your people would probably be prohibited from any excavation or artefact-handling, on grounds of inadequate training or the use of lo-tech instruments. But they haven't, which means you can continue working here . . .' He paused. '.. . and
1
can show you the location of the underground chambers and their hidden entrance.'

Greg's thoughts jolted to a halt, and he stared at the man. 'Wha ... what did you say?'

Lavelle glanced out at the site then went on in quieter tones.

'Greg, the cornerstone of field archaeology is determining where the treasure is before you begin digging. A researcher from, say, Planitia University would have the equipment to make any number of subsurface scans before breaking ground, but you don't have that luxury. On the other hand, I have - I used
Heracles's
sensor array to make focused scans of the interior of Giant's Shoulder.' From an inner pocket he took a folded sheaf of pages and gave them to Greg. 'These are copies made yesterday and the day before - there's not much fine detail but you can see the regular lines of the buried temple complex and beneath it.. .'

Greg stared at several views of Giant's Shoulder, digital sweeps showing a vaguely block-shaped recess extending about 60 metres down into the promontory, just as he had speculated. And there, not far below, was something circular - glancing between pages, contrasting different views, it really did look like a chamber of some kind, circular, perhaps 80 metres across . . .

He peered closer, sorted through the images, comparing two in particular, one of which seemed to show a thready, fragmentary straight line leaving the mysterious chamber and pointing south, while the other had a similar line leading inwards from the southern face of Giant's Shoulder, pointing north.

'It is what it looks like,' said Lavelle. 'It's an entranceway and a passage of some kind.'

Greg stared at the images with a burning intensity, thinking about the sheer sides of Giant's Shoulder, cracked and weathered rock faces veiled in tangles of vine and half-dead root. Only experienced climbers could safely traverse that kind of headwall, yet when he mentioned this to Lavelle he laughed and nodded.

'Well, fortunately I am a qualified climber, so if you need my help .. «'

Greg looked up. 'Is tomorrow too soon?'

'Hmm, I'm rostered on tomorrow morning - how about in the afternoon?'

'That would be . . . perfect. Marcus, forgive me for asking, but what do you have to gain out of this?'

Lavelle smiled thoughtfully, as if partly at his own thoughts. 'I guess I could say it's about fame and recognition - well, maybe that is part of it but mainly it's the chance to explore an ancient hidden mystery never before seen by Humans, to be the first to see it and touch it! It's the fourteen-year-old in me, I'm afraid.'

'In that case, my fourteen-year-old salutes yours perhaps we should start a club.'

Laughing, the two men descended the scaffold ladders, arranged for tomorrow, said farewells and parted, Lavelle heading for the zeplin station, Greg hurrying back to the cataloguing hut. On entering he noticed a message tag on his workstation's screen, a black-andyellow one signifying a locked priority, the kind that seldom contained good news. He keyed in his password, read it through, and groaned. Then reread it, just to be sure, and this time laughed drily. The message was from the office of V. Petrovich, the Director of the Darien Institute, informing Greg that tomorrow, at noon, High Monitor Kuros - and his extensive entourage - would be making a very official, very public visit to Giant's Shoulder. Several hours prior to this, an officer from the Office of Guidance and the commander of the High Monitor's bodyguard would arrive to inspect the site and ensure its security. Greg was to offer them complete cooperation and full access to all areas and to all personnel records. It ended with a pointed and direct instruction, essentially a prohibition on his 'indulging in any commentary or verbal wordplay that could be construed as antagonistic or insulting'.

Greg smiled, shook his head. The director was an old sparring partner and knew just what he was capable of, a state of being not unlike that of the reporter, Lee Shan .. . who, he realised, would almost certainly be present tomorrow.

You wait and hope for a good audience to come along,
he thought,
then suddenly it's there but you're not allowed to perform.

Then he realised that he would have to postpone tomorrow's exploration with Lavelle so, with a sigh, he sat down at his desk and began composing a short message.

12

ROBERT

The Earthsphere embassy was a modest, two-storey townhouse near the centre of Hammergard, timberframed and part of a short terrace of commercial properties and offices. Although the embassy staff had only had the keys for four days, Robert Horst had insisted that their public information desk was up and running from day one. This was in stark contrast to the Sendrukan Hegemony embassy, which was a villa in walled grounds in an affluent district, and which was reportedly refusing all requests and approaches.

Robert Horst was in a conference call with DeputyPresident Jardine and the opposition Consolidation party's external affairs spokeswoman, Linn Kringen, and trying to explain why there was little or no openness from the Hegemony representative.

'. . . what you have to understand is that High Monitor Kuros is not an official Hegemony ambassador,' he said to the faces on his desk screen. 'Officially, Darien falls within the Brolturan sphere of influence, so Kuros has to wait for the Brolturans to appoint their own representative before taking on an ambassadorial rank and opening for business.'

Linn Kringen smiled blandly. She was a paleblonde, middle-aged woman with a steely gaze. 'This is hardly a comforting situation, Ambassador, especially in the light of the recent revelation that the Brolturan Compact wants to assert sovereignty over us! You can surely see how troubling this would be to all Dariens.'

'Troubling' was putting it mildly. Someone in the Darien Institute had leaked the Brolturans' faith-based territorial claim along with some choice excerpts from the less sympathetic chapters of the
Omgur,
and now all the media were in ferment.

'Legator Kringen, I don't think there's any genuine cause for concern, simply because much of this is no more than gesture politics,' Robert said. 'The Brolturans can be somewhat sensitive about their perceived status so this is a face-saving exercise.'

'Exactly, Ambassador,' said Deputy-President Jardine, a round-faced Scot with receding hair. 'The fact is that the Hegemony is the true power in the region and they're not going to let anything happen to one of their principal ally's colonies.' A calculating smile came to his lips. 'I fear that the real reason for Legator Kringen's visibility on this issue stems from the recent divisions within the Consolidation Alliance.'

'As ever, the honourable Deputy-President fails to comprehend the facts, even when they are plain to see.' Kringen shook her head. 'Ambassador Horst, as opposition spokesperson it is my duty to attend to the concerns and doubts of the people and to ensure that the government is doing its job. I thank you for your time and courtesy, sir, and I shall convey your estimation of this situation to the leader of my party. Mr DeputyPresident . . .'

And with a smile that was as sharp as it was frosty, she broke the connection.

After that Robert was quick to bring the call with Jardine to a close, citing a pressing workload. Onct the screen returned to the ready cycle, he heaved a sigh of relief, leaned back and turned his chair away from his desk.

'I quite liked Ms Kringen,' said Harry. He was sitting on the arm of a divan, shirtsleeves rolled up, and holding a sheaf of papers in one hand. The monochrome image of Robert's AI companion stood in stark contrast to the subdued browns and greens of the townhouse's drawing room. 'Under that prim exterior I bet there's a champion dancer and an amateur scrimshaw hobbyist.'

Robert gave him a mock-serious look. 'You were reading her file! - I wondered why you were so quiet.'

Harry shrugged. 'All colonial politics starts to look and sound the same after a while, Robert, and truthfully I didn't care too much for Sundstrom's deputy.'

'He was a trade-off placement, apparently,' Robert said. 'Sundstrom has his own coalition to keep in line too. But what is Kuros up to? - he's kept his doors closed, as we expected, yet he's off touring the colony, visiting landmarks, meeting local officials. We've already had to change my itinerary twice because he edged in before us. Then there's the presentation at that archaeological dig tomorrow, which I had planned to attend until one of Kuros's assisters told me, oh so politely, that the High Monitor wanted to be the sole dignitary, the "bearer of the Hegemony's friendship" to the Darien colony.'

'Why, Robert - you sound peeved,' Harry said with a wry smile.

Robert spread his hands. 'You'd think that I would be used to it by now, given our encounters with Hegemony functionaries down the years. Well, at least we'll be spared the joy of listening to one of these speeches he's been making.'

'Ah yes - I've seen the transcripts,' Harry said, shuffling through his papers then striking a theatrical pose. '"Across the galaxy's vast ocean of stars, and down through the river of ages, certain values of life and freedom have remained constant, changeless. As the willing inheritors of those cherished values, the Sendruka Hegemony bears the responsibility of promoting and sharing them amongst the many-formed family of sentient beings. We welcome you to our great family, as we welcomed your fellow Humans many years ago, and invite you to join with us in spreading the values and benefits of civilisation ..."' Harry looked up, eyebrows arched. 'And on it goes.'

'What kind of reception is this bucket of platitudes getting?'

'Rapturous applause,' Harry said. 'But then, the colony's only source of offworld news is Starstream and they've always been most supportive of our Hegemonic allies.'

Robert nodded, feeling suddenly listless and tired, his neck and back full of aches, his mood growing despondent. It had been a long day and it wasn't over yet. He needed a short break from his cares and the chance to lift his spirits.

Looking out of the bay window at the even grey sky, he said, 'Harry, I need some time to myself, just to unwind before the reception this evening. Okay?'

'Of course, Robert. Say about an hour?'

'An hour would be fine.'

'See you later, then.'

When he looked round there was no sign of Harry and he got up and left the room. Along the polished wood corridor were his personal rooms, one of which he kept locked with an intricate old-fashioned key which came with the house sets. Once inside his bedroom he crossed to that door, unlocked it and stepped through.

'Hi, Daddy - glad you're back. Looks like it might rain.'

Rosa stood by the window, her faintly opaque form appearing oddly grainy in the natural light. Like an ancient, pre-digital photograph. Like a memory.

'It rains a lot in this part of Darien,' he said, settling into an armchair. 'So, what have you been doing today?'