Philyra shrugged. “Who’s this kelvin guy?”
Momus rolled his eyes. “To put it another way, the air’s thick enough to stop your blood boiling but poisonous and frigging cold.”
“So you could manage with just masks,” added Zotz.
“And a few more clothes,” muttered Fornax, with a withering glance at Philyra.
Momus frowned. “We’re supposed...”
“...To stay put,” finished Fornax. “Yes, I know. But I am a reporter and inside those domes is possibly the greatest scoop of this century, if not of all time! I refuse to sit around in this heap of a tentacle-sprouting spaceship, waiting for our gallant captain to return. I am going to grab my story, whether you like it or not!”
“Me too,” declared Philyra, standing up. “Zotz?”
Zotz shook his head vigorously. “I don’t want to go out there.”
Philyra disappeared through the hatch into the crawl tunnel leading to the carousel. When she returned a few moments later, she wore a long coat and held Fornax’s bag.
“You’re both frigging mad,” Momus told them.
“Probably,” Fornax admitted. Taking her bag, she withdrew her tiny camera robot and carefully unfolded its twin rotors to make sure nothing was dented. She saw with satisfaction that it was charged and ready to go. “Welcome to the world of journalism.”
* * *
Ravana found the greys inside the large black tent that in her absence had appeared in dome two. There was no one else in sight, though she could hear faint voices coming from the walkway to the Dhusarians’ transport. The site was far more humid than she recalled; earlier, in dome three, she had been startled to find a pool of water in the trench containing the excavated tree stumps. Incredibly, tiny green buds were visible on the blackened outcrops, suggesting that the ancient remains were not as fossilised as they thought.
The air inside the tent was even more stifling than the clammy atmosphere of the dome and had an unpleasant coppery smell. The main area contained a couple of low couches strewn with blankets, a variety of locked crates and a freezer trunk that was chilling in more ways than one, for the lid bore a series of bloody six-fingered handprints.
Nana and Stripy were in a smaller inner tent, manacled to one of the tent poles and looking very dejected in their grubby cut-off overalls. Their restraints had implant-controlled locking mechanisms that Ravana was able to release with ease. The greys greeted her with a chorus of excited shrieks, which became quite emotional. Stripy gave her a hug.
“Fwack fwack!”
“Of course I came back for you!”
“Thraak thraak,” Nana cried urgently. “Thraak thraak thraak thraak!”
“Slow down!” protested Ravana. Her implant translator could not keep up with the torrent of white noise issuing forth from the grey’s lips. The visualisations that did appear were difficult to comprehend. “Can we get out of this smelly hole?”
Ravana led the anxiously chattering greys from the black tent. Her father was across the dome, inside the walkway link to the Dhusarians’ parked transport, busy doing something furtive with a spade and the vehicle’s hatch. There to greet her instead were Doctor Jones, the Que Qiao officers and her fellow student archaeologists, all of whom having followed from dome one. All stared at the two greys with expressions that conveyed disbelief, apprehension, amazement and bewilderment in various measures.
“Thraak?” asked Nana.
“They’re friends,” Ravana said, even though she had yet to hear a civil word from either of the police officers or Urania. “Well, mostly.”
“Fwack fwack,” murmured Stripy uneasily.
Doctor Jones stepped forward, took off his hat and scratched his head thoughtfully. Xuthus and Hestia exchanged excited whispers, interspersed with glances at Ravana filled with awe. Quirinus soon came to join them, wearing an equally bemused expression. Govannon replaced his hat and noisily cleared his throat.
“Are those really...?” he started, but could not finish his sentence.
“Aliens!” exclaimed Xuthus.
“Cool,” murmured Hestia.
Quirinus grinned. “You do mix with some strange creatures.”
“Freaky,” Urania muttered. “Are they for real?”
Stripy returned Urania’s stare. “Fwack?”
Ravana grinned. “He’s just asked the same about you. They’re really intelligent,” she added. “I reckon they’re as smart as you or I.”
“Don’t you mean as dumb as you?” sneered Urania.
“You can understand them?” asked Yima. Beside him, a scowling Ininna fiddled with her headscarf as if trying to shield herself from the quizzical gaze of the greys.
“The Dhusarians developed a translator programme for cranium implants,” Ravana replied, pointedly ignoring Urania. She glanced to Govannon, who was staring wide-eyed at Nana and anxiously shuffling his feet. “Is everything okay, Doctor Jones?”
Govannon gulped. “Aliens don’t exist, see?” he said slowly. “They cannot exist! I’ve spent my life debunking the crazy notions of people like Cadmus, who see extraterrestrial handiwork in every ancient ruin. I freely admit that what we’ve found on Falsafah is a puzzle, but in all my years of archaeology I have not once seen definitive proof of intelligent alien life. I don’t know what these creatures are, but...”
He tailed off, lost for words. Nana raised large beseeching eyes to Govannon’s own, stepped forward and gently placed a six-fingered hand upon the man’s arm.
“Thraak,” the grey said softly. “Thraak thraak.”
“Fwack fwack,” added Stripy.
“They like you,” said Ravana, then glared at Urania. “But not you.”
“What about me?” Xuthus asked.
“Thraak thraak,” Nana said solemnly.
“I do not!” retorted Ravana, blushing. “He’s just a friend!”
Hestia gave her a wounded look and sidled up to Xuthus in the wake of a coy glance of her own. Xuthus himself remained fixated by the greys, unaware he had briefly become the centre of attention.
“Where’s Professor Cadmus?” Ravana asked, in an attempt to change the subject.
Govannon dragged his eyes away from the greys and sighed.
“Cadmus is dead,” he said glumly. “He explored the chamber alone and was killed in a rock fall. There’s some very strange stuff down there, see. I dread to think what Dagan and his Dhusarian friends want with the place, but they’ve claimed it as their own.”
Hestia frowned. “Two of them looked like monks.”
“Did they have a little boy with them?” asked Ravana. The news of the professor’s death came as a shock, but her mind had enough to worry about already.
Hestia nodded. Ravana could not see the entrance to the chamber from where she stood, but had walked past on her way to the tent and seen the scuffed footprints inside the trench. She looked at her father, who seemed to know what she was thinking and nodded.
Quirinus turned to Govannon. “This is your dig,” he said. “It may get a little rough, but your expertise would be appreciated. As for the rest of you, we have a ship outside and spare suits in the hangar. We’ll be hitting the runway as soon as we get back.”
“Get back?” asked Xuthus. “Where are you going?”
Ravana picked up the cricket bat from where she had left it outside the tent and casually hefted it to her shoulder.
“Kedesh called it the final innings,” she said. “Now it’s our turn to bat.”
* * *
Xuthus remained at the edge of the trench long after Govannon, Ravana, her father and the funny little aliens had disappeared into the green-tinged tunnel and out of sight. He badly wanted to go with them, but Ininna stood silently nearby and Xuthus was unsure of how the Que Qiao agent would react if he tried to follow. With a sigh, he turned from the pit, glanced wordlessly at Ininna, then traipsed back into dome one.
Hestia, Urania and Yima were at the airlock door to the hangar. To his surprise, there wer
e two newcomers with them, a girl and a young woman swathed in heavy coats who nonetheless looked half-frozen to death. His surprise grew when he realised that beneath the girl’s vivid purple hair was a face he knew well. After that, the sight of Hestia stroking a strange black cat in her arms was too much for his brain to dwell upon.
“Philyra!” Xuthus cried. “What are you doing here?”
The girl dropped her oxygen mask to the ground, put a finger in her ear and waggled it furiously. Philyra’s annoyed scowl became a grin when she saw Xuthus.
“My ears popped,” she explained, seeing his baffled stare. “Low air pressure, or something. It’s so cold out there! How do you cope in such a place?”
“You were outside without survival suits?” Urania frowned. “You’re insane.”
“No, we’re reporters,” retorted Philyra. “Well, she is. I’m her assistant.”
“Felicity Fornax,” greeted Fornax, shivering. She too carried a mask, while in her other hand was a device Xuthus could not identify. “Reporting for Weird Universe. I hear there’s some cool stuff going down about ancient aliens. May we see?”
“I wouldn’t get involved if I was you,” Yima said cautiously.
“And who might you be?” asked Fornax.
“He is Agent Yima and I am Agent Ininna,” snapped his colleague. Xuthus had not seen her follow from dome two and jumped at the sound of her voice. Both she and Yima had recovered their smug air of authority and her tones were as frosty as the beads of moisture on the end of Fornax’s nose. “This is a Que Qiao security matter. We are in charge here.”
“Not from what I’ve seen,” Hestia murmured.
Fornax gave a wry smile. “Are you one of the archaeologists?” she asked.
“My name is Hestia,” the girl replied meekly, stroking the electric pet. “I’m a student, the same as Xuthus and Urania. How did you get here?”
“We’re with Ravana and her father,” Philyra told her. “That dratted cat is hers.”
Fornax waved for her to keep quiet. “Can you show us what you found, kid?”
“I forbid it!” snapped Ininna. She shouldered past Xuthus and squared up to the reporter. “This is a crime scene. They took our weapons! Official investigators are on their way from Aram and our orders state everyone stays here until they arrive.”
“You said that two days ago,” complained Hestia.
“Since when, Dagan’s weirdo friends have come and taken over,” added Urania.
“She means the Dhusarians,” Xuthus explained to a mystified Philyra.
“They’re right. It’s daft to wait any longer,” Yima said defiantly. “We can’t have cultists dropping out of nowhere to do what they like. We set the rules around here!”
“Which is why I’m here,” Fornax declared. “We’re on the same side, you and I.”
Ininna did not look convinced. “We are?”
Fornax smiled. “I’m here for a story. The best news is always a tale of broken rules.”
* * *
Ravana stayed close to Govannon as they hurried down the angled passages of the star chamber. She had wedged the cricket bat back under her belt to leave her hands free to work her slate, retrieved from her belongings in the students’ cabin. Behind came Nana, Stripy and then her father, who carried the plasma cannon. Flickering biochemical lamplight glinted upon the rivulets of water that ran down the walls and trickled along the tunnel floor. Ravana touched the dark masonry with tentative fingers and found it damp and slightly sticky to the touch. A hot and humid wind wafted up from below, leaving her drenched in sweat.
“It wasn’t like this when we explored earlier,” Govannon said warily.
“The well at Arallu Depot ruptured during a quake,” Quirinus told him. “Your dig is downstream of a nice new river.”
“This place is incredible,” murmured Ravana. “Is it really an alien temple?”
“Thraak thraak!” Nana’s urgent tones echoed eerily within the tunnel.
Ravana shook her head. “I can’t make out what the translator is showing,” she said, frustrated. Nana and Stripy had been trying to tell her something important ever since she had rescued them from the tent, but the images created by the implant programme verged upon the surreal. “Don’t you have places to worship your gods or whatever?”
Stripy looked annoyed. “Fwack fwack!”
Ravana pulled a face. “Sorry for asking.”
“What did they say?” asked Quirinus.
“Definitely not a temple,” she confirmed. “They’re quite bemused by the idea they do religion. Which is ironic, coming from beings who inspired the Dhusarian Church.”
“No religion, is it?” mused Govannon. “I like them more and more. Talking of Dhusarians, are you sure whoever was in their transport won’t follow us?”
Quirinus grinned. “I jammed their hatch with a spade. They’re not going anywhere.”
Govannon led them around a corner and down another slope. Ravana had seen the other tunnels branching into the darkness and was glad the archaeologist seemed to know where he was going. She could tell by his muted sighs that he had yet to recover from the revelation that his dismissive view of aliens was wrong.
Her own thoughts dwelled upon Taranis’ notes on the slate she carried. The priest had decided the Falsafah prophecy was about a meeting between aliens and humankind, but was less clear on how this would come about, nor did his notes shed any light on why Artorius was so important. Taranis had found a description of the star chamber in another part of the Isa-Sastra, only to be baffled by the accompanying mathematical formulae. Ravana did little better, but recognised Krakenspreken’s famous theorem from her engineering classes and puzzled over this reference to extra-dimensional physics.
“I collected some samples for optical dating from where we found Cadmus,” remarked Govannon, interrupting her thoughts. “We dated the outer structure to a hundred thousand years old or so, see? Strange thing is, the central chamber saw sunlight just twelve thousand years ago. What do your err... grey friends know about this place?”
“They recognise it as being built by their kind and that it’s very old,” Ravana told him. “They describe it as an entrance or a door to somewhere.”
“To the afterlife?” suggested Quirinus. “It could be a tomb.”
“Thraak thraak!”
“That’s religious talk,” Govannon said, inadvertently echoing Nana’s retort. “Though Cadmus thought the same. You’ll soon see what he meant.”
“Why won’t you tell us what you saw?” asked Ravana.
“You need to see it with your own eyes,” the archaeologist replied. “Trust me.”
* * *
Philyra scowled. The tiny flying robot buzzed close to her head, the searchlight beams of its triple-lens holovid camera illuminating the glistening tunnel walls with bright white light. She was starting to find the heavier gravity tiring, especially when trying to keep up with Fornax, who having recently come from Earth was light on her feet. The reporter’s cambot had recorded nothing but one nondescript damp passageway after another since their first tentative steps into the trench. As their descent continued past the eerie green lamps, Philyra began to wonder whether they would find anything worth reporting at the end of it all. She knew from watching shows like Weird Universe that archaeologists had a tendency to get excited over what viewers saw as amazingly-trivial finds.
“This place is creepy,” she grumbled. “Not to mention slimy. This damp is not good for my hair, you know. It took me ages to get the colour right.”
“The cambot also records sound,” Fornax reminded her. “And it homes in on whoever is speaking. Do you really want your bad hair day documented for posterity?”
“There’s not much else of interest down here,” muttered Philyra.
Ininna and Yima, the Que Qiao agents, were not far behind. They in turn were trailed by Xuthus, Hestia and Urania, who upon hearing the muffled curses of the two Dhusarian pilots as they tried to open their
transport’s jammed door, had made it clear they had no intention of remaining in the domes alone. Hestia tried to leave Ravana’s cat behind, but the electric pet had taken a liking to her and kept jumping back into her arms every time she put it down. The students were talking about Ravana, who after her dramatic reappearance had left them in suspense about where she had been the last few weeks.
“She was like a different person,” remarked Hestia. Her luminous locks, currently bright orange, fascinated the cat and she frowned as the pet pawed at her neck with a diamond-tipped claw. “Ravana seemed so shy before.”
“Beheading that robot with a cricket bat was cool,” admitted Xuthus.
“She’s probably a witch,” said Urania. She glowered at the electric pet snug in Hestia’s embrace. “She and that damn cat flew in on a broomstick.”
Xuthus frowned. “Why don’t you like her?”
“Do I need a reason? My father says the refugees...”
“Never mind your father,” interrupted Xuthus. “What do you think?”
Urania glared at him. “You’re only sticking up for her because she fancies you.”
“Ravana does not!” snapped Hestia and blushed.
“Afraid of the competition? I’m sorry to break it to you, but you’re not Xuthus’ type. Nor it seems is any girl here,” Urania added mischievously. “Isn’t that right, Xuthus?”
Xuthus looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve barely glanced at Philyra. What she’s wearing would make most boys drool.”
“He does like girls!” protested Hestia. She frowned at Xuthus. “Don’t you?”
Ahead, Ininna spun upon her heels and stared angrily at the three students. Yima, Fornax and Philyra paused and turned to see what was going on.
“Will you be quiet!” Ininna hissed. “How are we supposed to sneak up on the infidel Dhusarians with you making so much racket!”
“Sorry,” Urania murmured.
Paw-Prints Of The Gods Page 35