Ancestor's World (23 page)

She was coughing weakly, trying between spasms to say something--his name? "Easy, honey," he said tenderly. "Take it easy. You're safe."

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Suddenly Strongheart was there before him. "Lay her down here."

Obediently, Gordon laid Mahree's body down on the top of the lab table she'd cleared off. He hesitated, still holding her hand. If she had died... he thought, and realized he was shaking at the thought.

"Mahree ..." he whispered, again, and a moment later, he felt her fingers squeeze his tightly.

"Gordon!" Strongheart showed formidable teeth. "She needs oxygen! Now out of my way!"

Still saying a prayer of thanksgiving, Gordon Mitchell stood aside, and let the doctor minister to her patient.

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CHAPTER 10 Big Job, Big Hopes

Two days after the attack on Mahree, Gordon sat at the head of the Lab conference table and tried to dismiss his worries for her safety. At least she'd agreed to wear a pulse- gun while in camp, and to go nowhere alone.

He'd been stumped at first as to how to explain the wrecked door in the SSC, but had finally come up with a story about a lone smuggler who'd managed to creep into camp undetected, but who'd been scared away when the heat sensors in the lab had been activated by his blaster fire.

Mitchell and Khuharkk' had rigged a replacement door that would serve until a new one could arrive from Spirit, and he'd arranged to stand guard in shifts.

Gordon scowled as other researchers came in and headed for their seats. It was time for the weekly conference, and the long table filled rapidly. More people lined the walls, as the murmurs of conversation and the chatter of competing voders filled the air with a dozen languages. It was too early in the morning for people to be this awake.

"Good morning, astamari," said Etsane as she passed, one of the last to take her seat.

"Morning." He was pleased to see the Ethiopian woman

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looking recovered from the animal attack of three days ago.

"Here's your coffee, Boss." Sumiko stood nearby, offering him a mug of steaming black brew.

"That sure smells good, Sumiko. Thanks." He took the coffee, then grinned.

"You're promoted."

Sumiko looked dubious, then headed for her seat. "Only if that means I get a raise. I already run this place."

Khuharkk' came in and sat next to Etsane, hunching his shoulders so the bright red scars of his two Honor Fights were visible. The sight seemed to unsettle Sumiko.

Well, at least she'd sent word to everyone that today was The Day. Not for ogling A-Um Rakt's Royal Barge, or even the Mizari relics that were driving his Ceramicist nuts. This was the day to hear Greyshine's aerial survey report, and to get a handle on just what kind of insane job they faced. The robot flyer had finished its survey of the river canyon from the dam site up to Ancestor's Val ey, and now they would al learn the specifics.

Gordon noticed Mahree staring at the double squad of rifle-armed Na-Dina who lined the Lab's side wall, and at their female leader, who shared a seat of honor at their table.

"Ambassador," Gordon said as he rose to make the introduction, "I'd like to introduce you to Pokeel, Chief Marshal of the Queen's Own Guard." He indicated the Na-Dina who wore a red-dyed Sash of Rank. She also wore a quite effective repeating rifle slung across her back. "Her unit of forty Guards arrived late last night on the supply steam- barge."

Mahree looked relieved. "That's reassuring. After the smuggler raid and that animal attack on Etsane, we can use the help of professionals." She stood, faced the Na-Dina alien, touched her brow briefly, and bowed. "Pokeel, I am Mahree of the clan Human, of the Trade Interrelator, Mother of one daughter, and I welcome you to our camp. May your salt always be pure and your water always fresh."

The Na-Dina Marshal rose from her resting squat. Her

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fan-ears fluttered in a complicated manner Gordon had yet to decipher.

"Mother Who Turns Anger Into Happiness, the honor is mine. I am Pokeel of the clan Sharp Teeth, of the Trade Fighter, Mother of four eggs, and Marshal of the Guard." The alien female clasped both talon-hands over her sash-hung chest, bowed back to Mahree, and then thumped her long tail. Nearby, Axum also thumped her tail, as did the females of her crew.

Mahree seemed to understand the tail-thump. When both had reseated themselves, Gordon looked back to Axum. She'd explained her patrol absence the other night by saying she had been tracking a Long-Neck to make sure it was not headed for the camp, and had accidentally turned off her com unit during her scrambles through the brush.

Had she been the Na-Dina heat-blob that had been abroad in the camp that night? Khuharkk' had thought otherwise, saying the intruder had been larger than the middle- aged female. Axum was invaluable in running the White City dig crew. Gordon prayed that she wasn't the killer.

Putting down his coffee, the archaeologist looked around the table, catching everyone's attention. "Before we hear Professor Greyshine's report on the aerial survey, perhaps Axum can fill us in on the other Na-Dina who arrived on the same barge with Marshal Pokeel. Axum?"

The Crew Boss stood from her resting squat. She touched ' her forehead briefly, then flared her silver-tipped ears in what he'd learned was the Na-Dina version of a smile. "Esteemed colleagues, I have good news. While the Liaison has always done his best to assist our operations"--she paused, flicking a glance toward Beloran, sitting on Gordon's left--"still, we have faced too much digging for too few people. I sent a message to my clan requesting assistance. Clan Digs Well has sent us an additional one hundred diggers. Thus, we will be able to excavate at multiple sites, not just the City of White Stone."

"Wonderful!" Khuharkk' barked his approval. "Now we might stand a chance of accomplishing our work!"

"Excellent," Strongheart agreed, sounding relieved. "I was told there would be a Na-Dina doctor among them."

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Axum lifted her tail. "True. A Doctor of Life from the Temple of Medicine volunteered to serve our people. He is even now setting up a dispensary at the Marshal's camp, which lies next to the jumpjet landing field." The Crew Boss turned to Gordon, her small, black eyes staring into his. He saw no deception there. "While I was sharing morning devotions with the Doctor, he told me that the Temple of Records has dispatched two Philosopher-Historians to assist in our work."

"They did?" Gordon felt a happy surprise. He'd been bothered by the indifference of the urban Na-Dina to the impending loss of a large part of their ancient heritage. Now it seemed as if the Traditionalists on the Council of Elders had prevailed over the Modernists and sent him some help. Just as Axum had, without his requesting it, brought in more diggers. "That's wonderful, Axum. When will they enter Base Camp?"

She glanced at the wall clock. "By midday. They must make devotions to Father Earth and Mother Sky. Fortunately, they are a female and male pair, so we should be covered." She squatted back down.

Beloran hiss-laughed, as did Marshal Pokeel. Mahree smiled knowingly, as if she too understood the reference.

He noticed Greyshine's bushy gray tail wagging so fast it was almost a blur.

Definitely anx ious. He grinned. "Professor, it's your turn. Please give us your report."

Greyshine's look brightened. "Thank you!" The Heeyoon pointed his record slate at a wall-screen. Light flared and a flat image of Ancestor's Valley, taken from an altitude of three hundred meters, filled the wide space.

"Honored colleagues and guests--our task is immense. This is our present research focus. But it is only a minor part of the total task."

The Heeyoon thumbed the slate and a new image came up, this time showing a color-coded geographic map of the river canyon, running from the dam site up to the City of White Stone. "The distance from here to the dam, along the River of Life, is five hundred sixty kilometers, with a river elevation drop of one hundred forty meters. The can

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yon walls vary in height from fifty to one hundred eighty meters, rising downstream. There are thirty-eight side canyons." Greyshine paused as people finally came to understand the size of the area to be flooded. "The width of the main canyon varies from three to twenty-five kilometers. Total ground surface to be flooded is five thousand, one hundred, and twenty-four square kilometers."

Around the table people reacted with amazement. Gordon had known the figures, but still felt shocked. Mahree caught his eye, offering her sympathy.

He nodded grimly, then looked back to the Heeyoon.

Greyshine continued. "The lake will flood the place we now sit to a depth of twenty meters. At the dam itself, the depth will be one hundred sixty meters."

Greyshine flicked through a series of color graphics that illustrated his point.

"The water mass impounded behind the dam will--when the lake has filled--

amount to nearly one hundred and sixty billion cubic meters." The conference room grew still with shock.

Beloran whispered, "That is a great deal of hydroelectric power, yes?"

Gordon set his jaw. "Yes, it is. But there's a lot of research yet to be done."

The Liaison's eyes darkened, as if he would argue. Gordon looked away, focusing on the wall-screen.

Greyshine switched to another overhead graphic, this one showing the dam site itself, the planned powerhouse, and a double spiderweb of lines that took off to the east and west of the dam. "You are all aware this dam is being built to provide thousands of megawatts of hydroelectric power for Na-Dina industrialization. What some may not know is that the lake will also feed an extensive network of irrigation canals that will be built as Phase Two of this project. The Na-Dina hope to expand farmlands lying to the east and west of the dam site, thus increasing food supplies." Gordon looked around the conference table. His Star- Bridge students Khuharkk' and Sumiko seemed stunned by the scale of the construction project. So did Etsane, judging by her sour grimace. The Na-Dina present at the conference

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table were not surprised, as best he could tell, though they did seem a bit unnerved by the graphic images. Well, they were taken from high in Mother Sky. Mahree had explained to him just how sensitive a subject that was with the Na- Dina.

Gordon waved at Greyshine, who was flipping through more drawings and photographs. "The Na-Dina have made a choice for water storage, power generation, and industrialization. We must now deal with the consequences of those decisions." He paused. "How many sites are there?" Greyshine sat down on his cushion. "In raw numbers, four thousand, one hundred two sites, ranging from overnight cooking pits of Na-Dina hunter-gatherers--

dated at nineteen thousand years ago--to twelve temple cities of the Eighth, Twelfth, Sixteenth, and Thirty-Second Dynasties." Around him, reactions ranged from numbed shock to visible outrage. Gordon sighed, rubbed fingers through his hair, then smiled weakly. He looked around the long table, eying the somber faces. "Before the scope of the task overwhelms us, let's remember that this is the find of the century! We can do a decent sampling of sites before the flooding. We can excavate a number of the temple cities, plus the tombs here in Ancestor's Valley, and make a major contribution to Na-Dina history."

Gordon pointed at Greyshine. "Professor, if I know you, you've already stratified the entire river canyon into sampling strata, cross-linked it with Ttalatha's vegetation and soil mapping, and ranked the sites in each stratum in order of research importance. You've probably even made the time to do a randomized selection within each research category--a classic stratified random sample. Correct?" Greyshine looked up from his record slate, his wolfish ears perking up. Lifting the slate, the Heeyoon pointed it at the wall-screen. "You are correct." A new aerial graphic appeared. "This is an orthographic, elevation-corrected map of the entire river and canyon system, with all sites marked on it. Red squares are temple cities, red dots are abandoned fanning villages, blue triangles are water control or shipping sites, purple dots denote burial sites, green

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shading indicates salt-killed farm fields, yellow shading indicates bottom lands or flat benches, like the one the city rests on. Over here the open triangles, crosses, squares and lines indicate prehistoric sites, locales belonging to the ancient forerunners of the Na-Dina dynasties."

The expressions of Beloran, Axum, and Pokeel ranged from frustration to puzzlement.

Greyshine noticed. "In salvage archaeology, we are required to study not only monumental cities and great tombs, but also the most humble of sites."

He waved at the screen. "Family homes, hunting camps, even the stone debris left behind when a few ancient hunters sharpened their spearheads before going off to hunt. We cannot just ignore older sites solely because they are less spectacular than the Royal Tomb of A-Um Rakt. Do you understand?"

Gordon had been watching Beloran during his colleague's explanation. The Modernist seemed highly disturbed. His tail twitched. "Professor Greyshine, diverting effort to study these scratchings in the sand will reduce the labor time available for studying the temple cities." Beloran looked to Gordon.

"Philosopher, I protest this diversion of scarce resources."

Gordon addressed the entire group. "Our primary effort will go to the temple cities, the many Royal Tombs from the various dynasties, and to studying the period of Na- Dina history covered by written records. The last six thousand years." He clenched his jaw, then forced himself to relax as he faced the Liaison. "But this river valley was home to other cultures, other Na-Dina, long before the First Dynasty was founded. We will do them the same honor as we do to A-Um Rakt."

The alien's tail rose. "But it wil take longer--"

"Beloran!" Axum slapped her tail against the floor. "I have cousins who serve the Temple of the River. They may be hydrologists, irrigators, and construction engineers, but the women of the Temple understand the need to show proper devotion to Father Earth." Her eyes moved from Beloran to Pokeel and back to the irritated Liaison. Axum's hiss-clicking rose in timbre.