“Sorry, no. How did you end up in the hands of our alien-loving friends?”
“Thraak!”
“Yes, I guessed the feeling wasn’t mutual.”
“I’m not sure,” Ravana said cautiously. “They gave me tablets that nearly scrambled my mind for good. The last thing I remember before waking up to those horrible nurses is being at Arallu Depot, which was two weeks ago. My father was expecting me to be there to call him again today,” she added sadly. “Or was that yesterday?”
“I can’t help you there,” said Kedesh brusquely. “It’s nigh impossible to get a clear signal to Aram’s servermoon from Falsafah. It sounds like you went out for a duck and were grabbed from the depot. What about you and the neands?” she asked Artorius.
“Neands?” he asked, puzzled.
“The greys,” she hurriedly corrected.
“Fwack fwack!”
Ravana looked at Kedesh, baffled by the abstract image the translator presented.
“Neands?” she repeated. “Is that what you call greys?”
“Never mind that now,” said Kedesh. “What’s your story, Artorius?”
“I’m from Avalon,” he said sullenly. He seemed unwilling to say any more.
“That’s all I managed to get out of him,” said Ravana with a sigh. “The greys were in cages in a laboratory at the dome. Artorius persuaded me to bring them with us.”
Kedesh gave a wry grin. “I’m sure you’ve annoyed a fair few people by doing so.”
Ravana remained cautious. “You seem very casual about the fact there’s two supposedly mythical extra-terrestrials aboard your transport,” she remarked. “Aren’t you even a tiny bit curious about them?”
“Apart from their interesting choice of attire? I’m sure we’ll get to that later,” said Kedesh, returning Ravana’s stare coolly. “At the moment it’s yours and Artorius’ story that is hitting wide. Any idea why you two may be of interest to the Dhusarians?”
Ravana paused, then slowly shook her head.
“I’ve been monitoring local police channels.” Kedesh’s tone made it clear she knew Ravana was keeping something from her. She picked up the second cup of tea and took a careful sip before continuing. “There’s been an unusual amount of chatter lately, considering that the number of agents fielding this wicket can be counted on one hand.”
“Thraak?”
“Yes, a human hand.”
“No one came looking for me,” Ravana said sadly. “No one missed me.”
“Ravana has no friends!” sniggered Artorius.
“Fwack fwack!”
“Thank you, Stripy,” said Ravana. “But Artorius is right. I made no friends at the dig. The tutors were too busy arguing over findings to notice me. They probably think I ran out on them and took the ship back to Ascension.”
“No one at all?”
Ravana hesitated. “There’s a boy called Xuthus,” she said coyly. “I’d met him before, at the peace conference on Daode, so he talked to me sometimes.”
“A boy, eh?” remarked Kedesh.
“Fwack fwack!”
“It’s not like that!” protested Ravana, feeling embarrassed. Artorius gave a snorting laugh that sounded far too dirty to be from the innocent mouth of an eight-year-old. “Anyway, enough about me and my lack of friends. What brings you to Falsafah?”
“Me? I’m just a filthy-rich, eccentric adventurer,” the woman said briskly. “You’re with the archaeologists? Found anything exciting at Arallu?”
“Dead aliens,” Artorius intoned. Keeping to his seat, he mimed a mummified corpse walking out of a tomb, his arms outstretched above the table.
“How fascinating!” remarked Kedesh. “Ravana, are you not having cake?”
Ravana caught her odd expression, opened her mouth to reply, then hesitantly took a slice. Artorius had not waited to be invited and had already wolfed down three portions. Ravana munched thoughtfully upon the fruit cake and found it surprisingly good.
“A rich adventurer?” she asked, looking at Kedesh. “I don’t believe you.”
“A roving researcher for The Amateur Astronaut’s Guide to the Five Systems?”
“Thraak thraak!”
“She said astronaut, not hitch-hiker,” Artorius told Nana.
“Does it matter who I am?” Kedesh said testily. “I saved your lives! I gave you tea and cake! I’d much rather talk about what you’re doing here, so far away from home.”
“It matters a lot.” Ravana took another sip of tea, unwilling to satisfy the woman’s interest in the excavation until she had some answers herself. “We only have your word that you’re not in league with the nutcases in that dome. How do you know my name?”
Kedesh looked momentarily flustered. “Artorius told me,” she said at last.
“Did I?” Artorius looked surprised.
Ravana raised a surprised eyebrow. “No, I don’t think you did.”
“My mistake,” Kedesh admitted. “Let’s just say I have a special interest in making sure we’re not left on the back foot by groups such as the Dhusarian Church. Anyone who delves into the life of the priest Taranis will soon come across the name of Ravana O’Brien. Is that not so, my would-be demon king of Yuanshi?”
Ravana shuddered. Taranis was one name she was unlikely ever to forget.
“Demon king?” asked Artorius. He looked at Ravana in awe.
“Ravana is the legendary demon king from the Ramayana,” Ravana said, sighing. “Taranis gave me the name before I was born and arranged for me to have a special-forces implant, all as part of a prophecy he invented to win supreme power on Yuanshi. Then my mother rebelled and had treatment to make sure she would have a girl rather than a boy. The Dhusarians do not recognise women as being capable of holding power,” she explained, seeing Artorius look puzzled. “Taranis’ stupid war killed my mother, left me scarred for life and drove father and I into exile. I’m now nothing more than an outcast with a stupid boy’s name and hardware in my head I still don’t fully understand.”
“Ravana doesn’t sound like a boy’s name,” Artorius said hesitantly.
“It does if you’re Hindu!” she retorted. “The school bullies reminded me every day. Father found he couldn’t change official records, so made a point of correcting those who pronounced ‘Ravana’ the Indian way instead of how he thought it should be,” she said, emphasising the long vowel of the second ‘a’ in her name. “He’s Australian.”
“It would be like Christians naming their daughter ‘Satan’,” Kedesh told Artorius and smiled at his look of disgust. “Why not change it unofficially?” she asked Ravana. “Though I appreciate it is hard to cast aside a birth name and put on fresh whites.”
“I did think about it,” she admitted. “But once we left Yuanshi for the Dandridge Cole it no longer seemed important. The folk there saw it as just one more exotic foreign name. Then Taranis turned up and dragged up the past in front of my friends.”
“Who’s Taranis?” asked Artorius, who had slyly reached for another piece of cake.
“A misguided but charismatic priest who brought about the Dhusarian Church,” said Kedesh. “Half man, half machine and totally insane. I’ve been pursuing him for some time.”
“Half machine?” Artorius’ eyes went wide.
“He has this spider walker contraption to move him around, only it has somehow become part of him,” Ravana explained. She eyed Kedesh cautiously. “I heard he was dead. And that I killed him.”
Kedesh smiled. “You? I didn’t have you down as the murderous type.”
“Taranis hurt my friends and had us all really scared,” Ravana said bitterly. She shifted uneasily in her seat, for the priest’s alleged death remained an uncomfortable subject. “He was too strong to fight, so we set him and his monsters adrift in deep space. I encouraged Zotz to do it, which makes me just as guilty as if I had pulled the trigger on a gun!”
“Thraak thraak!” interjected Nana.
“I left you to die with hi
m,” Ravana pointed out. “That makes it worse.”
“Your witness appears to think you acted in self-defence.” Kedesh seemed quite taken aback by Ravana’s outburst. “Besides, are you really sure Taranis is dead?”
“Are you saying he’s alive and on Falsafah?”
“I’m not sure. There’s a trail of sorts that leads to Tau Ceti, so I thought it was worth keeping an eye on the Dhusarians’ dome,” said Kedesh. “Did you know Taranis used it as a base many years ago, after he disappeared from Yuanshi? Anyway, there was something about the manner of your departure from the dome that seemed suspicious so I followed. It wasn’t until I saw you face to face that I realised who you were,” she added, making as if to touch Ravana’s disfigured cheek. “An Indian girl with such distinctive scars, escaping a Dhusarian compound? It had to be you.”
“What about me?” asked Artorius.
“What about you?” the woman retorted. “I have no idea who you are.”
“How about the greys?” asked Ravana.
“That depends,” she said and looked at Nana. “Are you the unfortunate mother?”
“Thraak,” Nana intoned sadly. “Thraak thraak.”
“You know about the cyberclones?” asked Ravana, surprised.
“Why else do you think I was watching the dome? A disturbing development, even by Dhusarian standards. It rather bowled me over.”
“I never saw them,” Artorius said irritably.
“They’re the monks I told you about,” said Ravana.
“Thraak!”
“Fwack fwack,” added Stripy.
“No, we didn’t think you were the father,” said Kedesh. “I’m sure you are just friends.”
“Fwack fwack fwack!”
“Somehow, I can’t see how hiding in some child’s wardrobe and wearing disguises is relevant. Even if it does involving flying bicycles.”
“On Yuanshi?” Now it was Ravana’s turn to look confused.
“They told me that story,” Artorius remarked. “They were on some moon but got left behind. Nana was injured and captured first, then Stripy was picked up later.”
“I always knew they were more intelligent than people would ever admit,” Ravana said slowly. “And that’s the people who accept them as real. But I thought their ship had crashed. When I first saw Nana, many years ago, I remember seeing wreckage.”
“Your little grey friends are smarter than you could ever possibly imagine,” said Kedesh. “But can we get back to the current state of play? For starters, why are the damned Dhusarians so interested in you?”
“I have no idea!” retorted Ravana, quite put out by the look Kedesh gave her.
“Really?”
“Sorry, but I’m not sure if I can trust you,” said Ravana. The expression on Kedesh’s face turned to one of hurt. “I’ve had my mind messed with once already on this planet.”
“The Dhusarians are not overly fond of me either,” Kedesh reassured her. “How about if we proceed on the basis of my enemy’s enemy is my friend?”
“In my experience it’s never that simple!”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
Ravana sighed. “The Book of the Greys,” she said. “When we confronted Taranis on the Dandridge Cole, I took his Isa-Sastra. It’s the original, the one the Dhusarians claim was given to a prophet called Betty Hill three hundred years ago.”
“Thraak thraak,” added Nana.
“Yes, I know it was you who wanted me to take it.”
Kedesh looked at Ravana. “And?”
“The book contains a passage on whatever it is buried out there in the Arallu Wastes,” said Ravana. “Taranis seemed to think it was very important.”
“Buried treasure?” suggested Artorius.
“Fwack fwack!”
“And it intrigued you enough to join the Bradbury Heights dig to see it for yourself,” Kedesh observed, eyeing Ravana carefully. “But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”
It was not a question. Ravana took a thoughtful sip of tea and wondered, not for the first time, just how much their mysterious rescuer really did know.
“We had started to uncover what Professor Cadmus thought was an alien temple,” she told Kedesh. “He was very excited about a long sequence of hieroglyphs we found engraved on the remains of a glass archway. I didn’t tell anyone that I’d found an exact match in alien script in the Isa-Sastra, in the section Taranis believed was a prophecy.”
“So you think there’s something at Arallu the Dhusarians want for themselves?”
“All I know is someone once told me that Taranis would not let anyone else see the original Isa-Sastra,” Ravana said. “I wondered if the Dhusarians are worried that I’ll reveal this connection between the Arallu hieroglyphs and the supposed prophecy.”
“Where is the book now?” asked Kedesh.
“Not on Falsafah. I have a scanned copy on my slate back at the dig, though.”
“Even more reason to reunite you with your fellow archaeologists as soon as possible,” mused Kedesh. “Were you carrying enough supplies to get that far?”
“No,” admitted Ravana. “We were hoping to pick up more food at a settlement the map showed a couple of days from here.”
“I know it,” Kedesh replied. “I’m pretty sure it’s abandoned, but standard practice is to leave some stuff behind in case of emergencies. I don’t have enough rations aboard to sustain the four of us all the way to Arallu, so we’ll stick to your plan. It’ll be good to drop by Morrigan’s Bar,” she added wistfully. “There’s something about this endless desert that makes me crave a long, cool schooner of lager. They serve it ice-cold in Arallu.”
“You’re taking us to the dig?” asked Ravana, surprised.
“You have intrigued me, Ravana,” Kedesh said and picked up the one piece of cake Artorius had left unmolested. “There’s something out there the Dhusarians want to keep secret. That’s enough for me!”
* * *
Kedesh’s transport was more powerful than the one Ravana and Artorius had stolen from the dome and in no time at all they had left the crash site behind, the vehicle bouncing defiantly across the rocky desert, heading north-west as if fleeing the breaking dawn. The transport’s navigational computer held large-scale geographical studies of Falsafah and with Kedesh busy at the controls, Ravana whiled away the time examining the terrain between them and the distant Arallu Wastes. Despite her reservations, they were aiming for the gravel road, which ran north from the Dhusarians’ dome for a few hundred kilometres and then curved west to a small landing strip Kedesh believed was used to fly in supplies. From there, the road continued a thousand kilometres west along the equator to another tiny airstrip recorded as disused. The unnamed settlement Ravana noted earlier was a short distance north from there, along with the hope they would find what they needed by way of food. The road ran no further and the following five thousand kilometres to Arallu were across a range of mountains that looked a daunting prospect for anything on wheels.
“We should hit the road far enough west of the Dhusarians’ airstrip that we won’t be spotted,” Kedesh reassured her. “Until then, it’ll be cross-country driving for the next five or six hours. We should pick up pace after that.”
“Fine by me,” replied Ravana. She was glad to be on the move again.
Artorius and the greys sat quietly in the cabin behind, strangely subdued. Ravana took a break from studying maps and idly scrutinised the disfigured skin of her right forearm. As a child on Yuanshi, she had been caught in a bomb blast during a skirmish between Que Qiao agents and royalist rebels. The scars had been there for as long as she could remember, yet the last few months had seen a change, for the faint silver tracings she had first noticed upon her face in the mirror had now also appeared amidst the scar tissue of her weakened right arm. When she caught Kedesh giving her an inquisitive look, Ravana pulled down her sleeve and stared resolutely through the windscreen.
“Is everything okay?” the wom
an asked.
“Not really,” Ravana said with a sigh. “But I live in hope.”
A few hours into their journey, when Artorius had crept into a bunk to take his third nap of the day, Kedesh returned to the subject of Taranis. The greys sat perched on the edge of the bunk behind Kedesh and Ravana in the cockpit, comically swaying with the motion of the transport as it swept on over the dunes. It had been playing on Ravana’s mind as to why Kedesh was so unfazed by the presence of the greys. The existence of intelligent aliens was a long way from being officially acknowledged. Governments across the five systems held the line that the legendary greys of Epsilon Eridani were figments of the deluded; alternatively, that they were an invention of the Dhusarians, which to many amounted to the same thing. Ravana did not have Kedesh down as either and her casual acceptance was puzzling.
“Tell me about the book,” said Kedesh. “The Isa-Sastra. Is it genuine?”
“It’s a fascinating thing,” Ravana told her, wondering how much to reveal. “When I first heard the story of how extraterrestrials supposedly brought it to Earth I found it difficult to take seriously. But it’s certainly in no script I’d seen before coming to the dig. What’s interesting is that the way it is written makes it possible to interpret the basics from scratch, even with no cultural or linguistic references to work with.”
“It sounds like you’ve been studying it a while.”
Ravana hesitated. “Administrator Verdandi at Newbrum wanted an inquest into the Dhusarian Church,” she said. “Her office confiscated the book as evidence. It was rather naughty of me, but before I handed it over a friend of mine helped me scan the entire thing, including Taranis’ notes, so there’s now a holovid file of it on my slate. So yes, I have had quite a bit of time to look at it since.”
“That was sly,” Kedesh murmured approvingly.
“Taranis had been studying it for years,” Ravana told her. “He’d deciphered the basic script, but really had barely scratched the surface. I got hold of the official interpretation from the net, the one used in the books given to members of the Dhusarian Church. It’s obvious he wildly embellished what decoded fragments he had to create the translation.”
Paw-Prints Of The Gods Page 15