Authors: T. Jackson King,A. C. Crispin
"A suggestion, Doctor Mitchell." The Mizari looked around the room, her emerald green eyes unblinking. "The sadness of last night may perhaps be relieved by the joy of seeing the Star Shrine, safe and secure in the Tomb of the Esteemed A-Um Rakt. Is a visit possible?" The intricate pattern of amber and silver scales on Lorezzzs' back shimmered as her coils shifted. "There is much work to be done, but surely, we may show respect to the King of the First Dynasty of the Na-Dina?"
Yes! Etsane looked eagerly to Mahree and
astamari
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Mitchell. She hadn't been inside the tunnel-tomb yet, and holo-vids just weren't the same. Beside her, Natual gestured excitedly.
Mitchell looked to Etsane's former teacher. "Professor Greyshine. Is the rampway clear? The tunnel... empty of impediments?"
The elderly Heeyoon grinned, red tongue lolling, reminding Etsane of a dog she'd had when she was a girl. "It's clear. And I must admit, I too am excited by the prospect of visiting a six-thousand-year-old god-king."
Beside Greyshine, Etsane saw Khuharkk' shiver slightly, and wondered if the Simiu was suffering from the wounds inflicted by the smuggler. But the rest of the group was plainly eager. Ttalatha ch'aakki, the Chhhh-kk-tu, chittered as she groomed her creamy fur. Eloiss's and Natual's eyes shone bright red. Even Hrashoi, the sloth-and-toad Shadgui symbiont who rarely showed any emotion, rose up to his full two-meter height. Axum and her cadre of Na-Dina diggers banged their digging tools against the Lab floor, raising a din that forced Teacher Mitchell to raise his arms.
"All right! Time for a tour of the Tomb!"
Khuharkk' brought up the rear as Doctor Mitchell led the way up the ramp to the Tomb entrance. After all, he'd already seen the treasures close up. He felt depressed and shamed by the events of last night--not personally, for he had fought well, acquiring two impressive Honor Scars-- but ashamed for the people of his own world, Hurrreeah.
To think that not just one, but two of his people had carried and used weapons! The knowledge made him feel sick. How could they have
degraded themselves so? Honor demanded that he, Khuharkk', third son of Nearkk' of clan Red Claw, attempt to redress the Honor debt the smugglers had incurred from their attack on the Na-Dina world and treasures.
But how?
Ignoring the pain and stiffness in his shoulder, Khuharkk' strode on, wondering how he could cleanse the Honor of his people. Yes, he could work hard at preserving
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the heritage of the Na-Dina. He would take guard duty after working hard all day cataloging the artifacts. He would be tireless in his devotion to helping Dr. Mitchell.
Would that be enough? Khuharkk' realized, not for the first time, that he did not understand the Na-Dina the way he should. He knew that they took their debts seriously. In that way, they were like his own people. But, while he knew facts about the Na-Dina, he did not understand their mind-set. For someone ostensibly studying to become an Interrelator, that was not a good thing.
In a world where Honor lay in the devotion shown to dead ancestors, he felt adrift, uneasy. He neither believed in an afterlife, nor understood how anyone else could. Yet that belief lay at the core of Na-Dina culture, custom, and history. He recalled hearing Honored MahreeBurroughs address his class one time, talking about how each Interrelator had to become a living bridge of understanding between two cultures.
He should become such a bridge. Honor demanded that he do so, to do his best work here on Ancestor's World. But the Na-Dina's dreams were not his dreams, their path to Honor was not his path.
What could he do?
The black-skinned female human with the long wavy mane noticed that he'd lagged behind, and slowed her own pace so she walked with him, shoulder to shoulder. Khuharkk' gave her a grateful glance.
She had fought fiercely last night, impressing even him. Though she used a sling to throw a stone, rather than grapple and bite in the Simiu way, still she had used her own muscles, her own strength, to strike down her enemy.
Khuharkk' liked humans, unlike some of his people. Three years ago, he'd entered into a close relationship with the human child, Honored HeatherFarley. In the Simiu way, he'd become her Uncle. He missed Heather, and wrote to her frequently, looking forward during each mail call for her responses.
Perhaps Etsane was lonely, too, and would value his
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friendship, as Bill had. Khuharkk' found himself hoping that was so....
Etsane's excitement rose with every step she took as they entered the tunnel leading to the Tomb. Beside her, Khuharkk' paced, silent and brooding. For a moment, the Ethiopian woman wondered whether the Simiu was in pain, and thought about asking him; then they encountered the first of the paintings.
"Ohhhhh," she heard Sumiko murmur. Etsane couldn't even manage that.
She just stared, wide-eyed.
The rich mineral pigments of red ocher, yellow calcite, copper green, and limestone white filled a long series of panels that lined both sides of the tunnel. Illuminated now by a string of electric lights hanging from the plain stone ceiling, they gleamed with color nearly as fresh as on the day they had been painted.
They're gorgeous! Etsane thought, with mingled awe and delight.
The first panel showed the creation of Ancestor's World, a vortex of lightning, earth, salt, and water that coagulated into the landscape she had seen from orbit. A blue-scaled kangaroolike deity stretched her long tail around the globe, as if protecting it. The second panel showed a mighty King riding the River of Life on a golden barge, his scales inlaid with silver, gold, and jewels, one talon-hand clasping a long pole similar to those used by nearby servants, who poled the barge over the blue waters. The King's other hand held a pile of salt cakes, as if he was making an offering to some deity.
Etsane caught her breath when she saw the third panel. This one, easily ten meters long, depicted a snake-headed Na-Dina who directed hundreds of other Na-Dina in the construction of the City of White Stone. Beyond the city, workers were building a great stone pond. The last section showed the end of the causeway (intact, of course, in the painting) that led from the city down to the River of Life. Giant reed-ships were being launched, their white lateen sails billowing in an invisible breeze.
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This painting's immense scale reminded her of Old Kingdom Egypt, where the Pharaohs of Upper and Lower Egypt wore the white cone and red crown of the Two Lands to show they were born to godliness. They had no doubt of their divine right to rule heaven and earth.
And here at the upper end of the River of Life, just below the snow-capped peaks of the Mountains of Faith, the First Dynasty King of the Na-Dina had likewise taken hold of his people with one mighty taloned hand and propelled them down through the ages, through forty-six dynasties in an unbroken line of succession. His vision had built the City of White Stone. His vision had caused the great Temples to be built. And his vision, even as he died, had been the spark that caused this Valley of Tombs to be built. Surely A-Um Rakt had been a
negusa negast
, a King of Kings.
The last panel began at the bend in the tunnel, and stretched ahead thirty meters to where it ended just outside the Tomb of A-Um Rakt. This painting showed images of Na-Dina priestesses, Royal Ministers, and river barges as they transported the Great King on his annual pilgrimage upriver, to the headwaters of the River of Life, there to pray for the annual flood. This King was snake-headed, though behind him stood a smaller King and Queen who bore blue-scaled Na-Dina heads. Etsane wrenched her eyes from the end of the panel, only to join in the assembled gasp as Teacher Mitchell turned on the lights in the Tomb.
"Gold!" Natual gasped. "Gold everywhere you look!"
"The Star Shrine! The Sacred Shrizzs!" hissed Lorezzzs, her tail twitching just like a Na-Dina's.
Etsane's height allowed her to see clearly into the chamber that had been walled off six thousand years ago. The Tomb's main chamber was round and dome-roofed. On the ceiling, blue paint and golden circles pictured the heavens above Ancestor's World. Below the dome stood a solid block of red porphyry, serving as the bier on which rested the intricately tooled sarcophagus of the King. Made from solid gold, the coffin of King A-Um Rakt had been shaped
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like the Royal Barge that even today sailed the muddy- brown waters of the River of Life.
Etsane stood on tiptoe, craning her neck, not wanting to miss anything.
The top of the barge showed the outline of a Na-Dina, with short arms crossed over a scaled chest, and taloned hands clasping the pole rod and a brick of salt, while the long tail curled around his feet in a maternal pattern that intrigued Etsane. The head, though ... that was snakelike, a near copy of the Esteemed Lorezzzs' own ancient visage. To the right she caught sight of a side room, its piled-up grave goods untouched and unrecorded. The Teacher had named it the Treasury. She looked back to the main chamber.
Standing beside the bier, Mitchell caught her eyes. "Etsane, do you think you can decipher those glyphs?" he said, gesturing over his shoulder at the walls of the Tomb.
On the curving chamber wall, sheets of gold leaf had been hammered over carved stone ideoglyphs from the ancient First Dynasty language. Row after row ran around the Tomb, telling a story unknown.
The Ethiopian took a deep breath, feeling exultation surge up in her. This is what I was born to do, she thought. "I'll try ..." she began, then stopped herself. "Yes! I will learn what the glyphs say! I promise on my honor as an Amharan!"
Gordon Mitchell smiled. Standing beside him, Mahree too looked pleased.
The rest of the crowd moved into the chamber, stepping over the remains of the sealing wall. All but Khuharkk', in a gesture of utmost respect, with palm up, fingers curled inward.
"You pledge your Honor to your duty. I honor you for that, O human of black stone. If there is any way that I may help you achieve your promise, I will."
Touched by his words and gesture, Etsane held out her own hand, placing her fingers into his leathery palm. "Thank you, Honored Khuharkk'," she said, wishing she could speak his language. "I wil let you know if there is anything you can do."
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"Etsane!" Gordon Mitchell called out. "Come see the Star Shrine up close!"
"I'm coming!" she said. "I can't wait!"
She wriggled her way through the crowd, going to her knees so she could see the roped-off part of the Tomb, the area not yet recorded and cleared.
The Shrine resembled a box-house made from purple metal, with tiny doors at the front, star patterns carved on the peaked roof, and who knew what else inside. Beside it lay one of the sacred Mizari drinking vessels, and a globe incised with star patterns picked out in brilliant jewels against the dark amethyst background.
In the shadows at the back of the room rested ceramic pots, bronze cooking vats, and a table frame whose wooden members sagged drunkenly, held together only by hammered gold sheeting.
Warm wet breath puffed against her ear. "Female descendant of a Royal House," hissed Lorezzzs, "do you not feel at home here?"
Etsane shivered, and blinked back tears. She felt privileged to be here, to be within touching distance of these ancient marvels. She looked up, seeing Ttalatha, Sumiko, Natual, Eloiss, Hrashoi, her two Heeyoon mentors, Khuharkk', Axum the crew boss, Mahree, Doctor Mitchell, and the Na-Dina detective Krillen all watching her. She felt a special kinship with these people, who were going to work together to uncover the secrets of the past.
"Oh, Lorezzzs," she whispered, "I do feel as if I've come home!"
For a moment her father's face flashed before her eyes, proud and austere, every bit as royal-seeming as the image of A-Um Rakt. She wished with all of her being that he could see what she was seeing, could be with her this day....
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The next day, Mahree and Krillen prepared for the trip to the remote rural site where Bill had been murdered. They loaded Beloran's skimmer with her sensor equipment, food and water, and camping gear. Gordon insisted that Mahree take one of his pulse-guns in case they ran into smugglers, and she reluctantly agreed.
When they were ready to go, they waved good-bye to Gordon, Etsane, Beloran, and Greyshine, who had come to see them off, and climbed into the skimmer. They took their places in the cockpit with Mahree in the pilot's
"seat." Beloran had modified the skimmer for his purposes, removing the top and the human pilot's seat and substituting a backless bench that would accommodate a being with a tail. Mahree found she could manage, though it was uncomfortable.
Krillen squatted to her right, his long tail extending back into the interior compartment. Turning the vehicle on, she felt it surge, levitating on its cushion of fan-forced air. She glanced at her passenger. "You're remarkably calm, considering a female is piloting this skimmer."
Krillen's fan-ears flickered. Nervously, she thought. "Guiding a ground skimmer does not... really count as a violation of Tradition. You never raise the craft above head-103
height. It is flying through Mother Sky that is sacrilege." Mahree called up a simple map on the craft's cartometer, satellite imagery being forbidden here.
The Royal Road that began west of the city led northeast to the distant farming village of Blue Pond, and the mesa top where Bill had been found lay just beyond.
Mahree glanced in that direction, where blue-black thunder clouds hovered over a northerly arm of the Mountains of Faith. Would those clouds ease this dry heat? Since the craft had no top, the sun beat down mercilessly. She pressed the yoke, and the craft began to move. "Whatever you say, Krillen."
The Na-Dina tugged at the sash on his chest with one talon-hand. "I can see that you are skeptical of our ways, that you do not understand. It begins with Father Earth and Mother Sky. And the Law of the Ancestors."
"Mother Sky?" Mahree prodded him, wanting to learn more and to practice her High Na-Dina speech. "On Earth, most cultures consider Sky a male symbol. How do Na- Dina see things?"