Pathfinder (18 page)

Istaga/Covanni seemed to pull the shadows out with him, because the room felt brighter after he left. Isrid sat quietly deflated, and considered how his life had gone sideways. He’d just given his traditional
enemy
, Major Kedros, information about the threats against his family, yet didn’t feel he could trust his Overlord’s master intelligencer and “political officer” with the same. Strangely, he’d finally come to accept Pax Minoica. He had even staked his career and his family’s livelihood on it and the economic partnership it allowed with the Autonomists. Now it might all go up in smoke, and Sabina’s warning echoed in his mind.

 

Ariane was, apparently, the only person who felt freed by the Minoans’ proposal.

“Whoa, whoa, whoooooaa!” The crèche-get, who’d never seen a riding beast, began applying reins. David Ray stood, his smooth face creased in a grimacing frown. “Before
anyone
volunteers for
anything
, we need more information.”

Contractor Director turned its attention toward her, ignoring David Ray for an interminable span of silence.

“Ari, you have no idea what’s involved,” Matt said uneasily. “We’re a long way from mounting an expedition.”

“Agreed.” Contractor Director dipped its horns toward Matt. “Much work must be done before we retrofit a vehicle, but we had to be assured of the crucial volunteer.”

“Her verbal agreement isn’t binding, in any context.” David Ray’s legal retort was quick.

“Much work must be done,” Matt repeated, under his breath. “Retrofitting a vehicle? Where’s the money coming from?”

She leaned forward to tell David Ray that she wasn’t going to change her mind. Matt put a warning hand on her arm.
Later
, his headshake seemed to say. She leaned back, her protest left unsaid.

“Is your translator classified as proprietary? With whom may we share it?” Dr. Lowry’s cool tone changed the subject deftly.

“Any company contracted by an S-triple-ECB lessee,” Contractor Director said. “Please reactivate your research projects, keeping our goals in mind. I will meet with you on a cycle of two UT days, and we will provide more information as your research progresses.”

“Why so frequently?” Lowry looked irritated.

“We know how close you are to triggering an nous-space transition, Doctor.”

Lowry paled at the Minoan’s comment.

“We have given you partial translation capabilities, which should accelerate research. Please understand that we want you to be successful.” Contractor Director dipped its horns. The ropes of jewels hanging from the tips sparkled and scattered shards of colored light across the walls.

They watched quietly as the Minoan and its guardian escort left, moving through the hatchway with hardly a rustle. Afterward, Ariane was the only one in the room who didn’t reach for a slate or start making a call.

“I’ve got to disseminate the translator.” Lowry sprang to her feet and left the room, her hand going to her implant behind her ear.

“I need to reserve this conference room,” David Ray said.

“I should call Diana,” Matt said.

She sat motionless, in wonder, ignoring the others.
Will they really let
me
pilot to a Builders’ world? Explorer of Solar Systems
, the contract had specified.

“What does this mean?” Matt jerked her out of her reverie. He shoved his slate in front of her face, showing the message, “No incoming or outgoing messages allowed at this location [AFCAW 56394854-BC] due to AFCAWR 122-5 audit procedures.”

“That’s the
Bright Crescent
’s identifier. They’re locked down for a full audit and inspection.” Her voice tightened in surprise.
So the senator apparently
has
the time, even during the tribunal, to make good on his threat to Owen
.

“Diana’s not a prisoner, is she?”

“The ship’s temporarily offline. Nobody’s a prisoner—although the comm will be down as they pull data and logs from the systems. Diana can call you from the
Pilgrimage
when she gets the time.”

“Why would that bastard do this?” No need for Matt to use names.

“It’s not Owen’s fault. My guess is that he, as mission commander, as well as the ship commander and crew, are under Senate investigation.”

“Oh.” Emotions fought on Matt’s face: satisfaction at seeing the arrogant Colonel Owen Edones get his “due,” and concern for Diana and other crew members of the
Bright Crescent
.

She hadn’t expected Senator Stephanos would go through with the investigation
now
, not when Edones hunted wayward murderers and saboteurs. Was Stephanos dead set upon ruining Edones’s career?

David Ray interrupted her thoughts, putting a hand on her shoulder and Matt’s. He bent down so his head was on level with theirs and spoke softly. “I hope I don’t have to remind you that the Minoans are never altruistic. They’ll want payback.”

“Yes, ‘All the world’s a stage,’ ” Matt quoted. “ ‘And we’re all merely puppets.’ ”

“
Players
,” corrected David Ray. “ ‘And all the men and women merely players.’ ”

“Really? Because I feel like a
puppet
, with too many masters pulling my strings.” Matt’s eyes narrowed.

Ariane agreed. Matt didn’t know the half of it.

Our correspondent in G-145 suspects Tribunal members State Prince Duval and Senator Stephanos are conducting their own side investigations into the recent tragedies in that solar system. Of course, our correspondent is barred from both inquiries. . . .

—
Interstellarsystem Events Feed
, 2106.054.14.28 UT, indexed by
Heraclitus 7
under Flux Imperative

 

 

 

A
riane and Matt used the time remaining in first shift for an elevator trip down to the moon surface. Matt hadn’t ever seen the alien structures, even though he’d mapped their outlines remotely. Their purpose wasn’t to sightsee, however, but to start sifting through offices, labs, and quarters used by Hellas Nautikos employees, just as they’d promised Contractor Director.

Ariane enjoyed the ride, even though it took several hours. This was her third trip in the space elevator, but the first time she could relax and just experience it. She watched the views projected on the walls. There were no true windows, or radiation holes, as space crew called them. Thankfully, Matt had stopped fussing about not getting through to Diana. He looked like he was finally relaxing as he chatted with Dr. Lowry, who had business down on the moon’s surface, but might have time to help them inventory personal items, notes, and whatnot.

“The Minoan translator is exciting,” Lowry was saying. “Supposedly, they claim it can provide
direct
translation from the Builders’ language and symbols to ours, but we have to be cautious.”

“Why? You think the Minoans aren’t being honest with us?” Matt asked.

“No, I worry whether they truly understand our semantics, much less the Builders. Our history with the Minoans is rife with misunderstandings.”

“They’ve obviously been interstellar traders and peace facilitators longer than we can imagine,” Ariane threw into the conversation. “It’s hard for us to comprehend even the age of the Builders; didn’t we date the creation of these ruins to between ten and fifteen thousand UT years ago?”

Dr. Myrna Lowry looked at her a bit sourly, as if she’d hijacked the conversation.

“We had to make a wide estimate because the Builders cleaned out organic matter and atmospheric gases that would oxidize metals. To make it even more difficult, many materials appear to have been imported to this system and we don’t have references to calibrate nuclear decay. Hopefully, the
Minoans
can provide us keys to understanding the Builders.” Dr. Lowry turned to Matt. “If their civilization has existed long enough to see both the rise and fall of the Builders, and if this translator is as old as they insinuate—well, that has amazing repercussions.”

“How so?”

Ariane’s eyelids drooped, although she kept half an eye on the others, tracking the conversation.

“Think about how
dynamic
human civilization is.” Lowry became animated. Her hands unconsciously made symbols that were part of the Martian patois, even though she spoke common Greek well. “We’ve developed thousands of languages, only to cast them aside to be subsumed in the ice of Terra. Mankind has created symbols for at least nine thousand years—but if we believe the Minoans, the Builders civilization collapsed as we were just starting. I question how the Minoans could possibly produce an accurate translation from Builder symbols to ours if they experience the same dynamic change that we do.”

“Maybe they don’t. They make the distinction that we’re an
evolved
intelligence,” Matt said.

“Exactly! The Minoans seem culturally static, which is impossible from our point of view. We can’t imagine keeping information over ten thousand years, without it drifting and losing integrity.” Lowry’s hands flitted about as she talked. “I follow xenologist publications, like David Ray, and a popular theory is the Minoans use some sort of mental telepathy. I hear the two of you came to similar conclusions after your time on the Minoan ship.”

“David Ray told you that?” Matt sounded surprised.

“Not in so many words. He was telling one of his stories.”

“When?”

“Um, can’t remember. But you know how he gets.”

“Yeah.” Matt laughed. “Love the guy to death, but he does wander, doesn’t he?”

Ariane watched this verbal dance through lowered eyelids. Dr. Lowry was vague about how she learned about Matt’s time on the Minoan ship, while Matt was guarded about his experiences. Both Matt and David Ray had given statements about the isolationists to the ICT prosecution, but they didn’t consider Matt’s testimony relevant to the charges they were pressing against Rand and his men.
Hearsay! By the Great Bull’s balls, one of those
hearsay
isolationists almost killed me
, Matt complained to her later. But, when it came to their observations of the Minoans, Matt and David Ray remained tight-lipped.

Matt’s conversation with Dr. Lowry degenerated into polite small talk, such as the variety of cuisine available on Beta Priamos and whether they’d get anything other than prepackaged space rations down on the Priamos surface. Ariane dozed until the arrival chime yanked her upright. She rubbed her face, trying to massage herself awake. As she stood, she adjusted for Priamos’s three-quarters standard gee.

“I’ll meet you at Barone’s quarters. Take your time—I have to check with the message center,” Lowry said brightly, moving away, down the pressurized corridor.

This left Ariane as guide to Matt, a duty she didn’t mind, although she wasn’t the most informed choice. She led him down the corridor that connected the elevator to the alien archeological site. The temporary tube went gradually downhill and underground, where it curved and ended at another temporary airlock. It had just finished cycling; Dr. Lowry had moved through quickly.

Before the site-side doors opened, she told Matt about her first experience seeing the underground Builders’ facility. “I never understood why the Minoans were paying Hellas Nautikos to document
human
reactions to the Builders’ ruins,” she said, as the site-side doors opened.

“Oh.” His mouth fell open.

She gently pushed him forward, so he tentatively stepped onto the honed hard surface with irregular opalescent striations. They stood under an arch of the same material and on the edge of the glittering main hall, which reminded her of a jewelry box carved of translucent semiprecious stone. The hall was lit by glowing designs on the ceiling. Two rows of columns extended from their position to the end, creating an internal walkway with overhead ribs, like soldiers holding a ceremonial arch of swords. Behind them, the temporary airlock pressed into the arch like a plug into a bottle, closing with a huff.

“I thought the Builders didn’t use ninety-degree angles.” Matt looked about at the rectangular hall that measured approximately twenty meters by ten meters.

“This is the only space built in a rectangle, and all routes lead off it. Hellas Nautikos found that we humans are more affected by these shapes than we expected. They said video proved we gravitate back to this area for serenity and mental relaxation.” She moved to the side of the arch and looked thoughtfully at nodes mounted on a thin metal structure built inside the arch. Their power was on, indicated by a tiny light on their edges. “I wonder if these are still recording. Abram and his band of thugs might have continued to use the Nautikos equipment for security.”

“You’re absolutely right, Major.”

She jumped. “No rank, please. I’m not on active duty,” she answered the voice that broadcasted from the disc-shaped node smaller than her thumb.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, Ms. Kedros. Master Sergeant Pike at your service, representing the ever-faithful multidisciplinary Shock Force Command. We’re responsible for security here on the surface.”

“Autonomist Commandos, Matt. Here’s where
our
guys are working.” She smiled.

Matt nodded wordlessly, having moved to the closest pillar. He examined the symbols at the height of his head. They appeared backlit, made of worked metal embedded into what seemed to be polished, alien onyx.

“I assume you’re here to take possession of the Nautikos facilities and data. We’ll get you keyed into the system. Just go straight through the hall and turn right—well, angle toward the right through two branches,” Pike’s voice said.

She thanked the sergeant and tried to herd Matt through the hall. He resisted until she pointed out he’d have
plenty
of time to study this later.

“Do we know what any of this means?” he asked.

“No, but I have a feeling we’ll figure it out.” She gestured toward a linguistics team on the far side of the hall, working with slates and a big board that had fragmented pictures and symbols. The team stepped back from it as the graphics moved about, joined, and rejoined. The discussion was unintelligible, but their voices held excitement.