“They look so old!” said Jenine, her eyes bright with wonder as she craned her neck back to take in the amazing height of the nearest ring.
“Over 20,000 years old.”
“That’s impossible!” Jenine exclaimed. “They can’t predate the creation!”
Simo stopped the car. It settled on the ground and a strange hush descended on the scene as the singing faded. He turned to his passengers, his eyes sombre. “Despite your mindwarp crammer, you have so much to learn… And unlearn. Just as I did. This planet has been around for four billion years, and Man has been around for four million years. Every so often new evidence turns up that adds a million years to that figure. Those rings were made by people 20,000 years ago - people just like us.”
The bubble top hinged up in time for them to hear the soft, final strains as the singing died away completely.
“Wind’s dropped,” Simo commented as they climbed out of the ground car and stood staring at the rings. “Actually you’re lucky to hear them singing. The conditions have to be just right. It was several mornings or so before they sang for me.” He waved a hand around at the parched landscape. “There was a community here before they were relocated. They used to believe that the singing was the spirits of those who departed from earth in the Challenger.”
Ewen turned to face his host. “We’ve heard that name over and over again. When are you going to tell us about it and what it means?”
With that curious, bouncing gait, Simo moved a few paces and sat on a pile of debris. For a moment he stared down into a broad, shallow trench that had been cut into the floor of the desert. He looked speculatively at his guests. “You’ve been through your crammer, but I wonder if you can imagine what a star ship is?”
“A ship that travels to the stars, of course,” said Jenine. “With an enclosed environment I suppose to protect the passengers.”
“And strict recycling of everything like we had in Arama,” Ewen added. His pulse quickened. The idea stirred something deep in his subconscious. His thoughts raced ahead, working out the design problems involved.
Simo smiled. “That’s what we believe these rings are: mock-ups of the sections of a star ship that our ancestors built.”
There was a silence. The sun beat down on the trio.
“Mock-ups?” Jenine queried.
“Trial structures to test design concepts. Or maybe sections that were abandoned because they were faulty. From what the experts have been able to piece together, we’re on the site of the main complex where the ship was designed and built. According to what records archaeologists have found, the ship was built in sections here and ferried up into orbit around the planet for assembly. Its length was around fifteen times the diameter of those rings.”
There was a long silence as Ewen and Jenine grappled with the concepts involved.
“Why?” asked Ewen at length, keeping his voice calm so that Simo wouldn’t be warned off. “Why build something so huge? Surely such a project would be a drain on the resources of any society? What would be the point?”
Simo shrugged and pushed tipped his hat back to protect the back of his neck. “A quest for knowledge? Earth-like planets to colonise? Who knows? We don’t for certain. As for building a ship on such a scale, we think it was because it was not meant to return until many generations later, such are the distances involved if you wish to explore the far reaches of the galaxy.”
“Strange people,” Jenine commented, gazing up the nearest ring.
“Sensible people,” Simo replied. “Prepared to make investments that wouldn’t see a return in their lifetime, or even their childrens’ lifetime.”
Jenine took her eyes off the ring. “Do we know much about them?”
“Many of their very high orbit satellites have survived virtually intact - space is a benign element whereas on earth, wind, weather, corrosion eventually destroys everything. But their satellites were inward looking - designed to tell them about their own planet; they don’t tell us much about the people that built them.” He paused. “They left their footprints on the moon and probably landed on the planets. Again, the instruments they left behind were designed to gather information about the unknown - not provide it about themselves. Here, on earth, where the real information is, it’s been mostly wiped out by the elements.”
“And the people were wiped out too?” Ewen asked.
“No - they declined. Civilizations rarely die out completely. But knowledge can die - or rather, is lost.”
“Do we know if the ship ever returned?”
The question seemed to sadden the older man. “If it had, it would be in orbit around this planet and would have survived. There’s a theory that it returned and was sent on another voyage as Challenger Two. We simply don’t know. There were even plans for a third Challenger which we now know was never built.”
Ewen turned his gaze to the sky. He was careful not show his feelings but the thought that at this very moment there could be a mighty star ship wandering in the far reaches of space carrying men and women like him fired his imagination.
“So now you’re picking up the threads and building another Challenger?” he asked casually.
Simo squinted up at the sky and stood. “We’d better get moving. It’s not a good idea to spend too long in the sun at this time of day.”
They returned to the ground car. Ewen stood for some moments, gazing at the mighty rings, letting his imagination wander among the stars. Being near these ancient relics seemed to bind him irrevocably to the people that had built them. It was a strange empathy that he could not define, less still, explain.
“Come on, Ewen!”
He stepped into the ground car and sat beside Jenine, not speaking; his thoughts millions of light-years away among the stars.
5.
At first Challenger City was a disappointment. Cowering under the sun, the outskirts consisted of endless, hot, dusty boulevards of windowless buildings, linked by covered walkways, whose only hint of occupancy where the rows of cars parked outside. The rare pedestrians stopped whatever they were doing and saluted the ground car as it swept by.
“It’s not all like this,” said Simo in answer to Jenine’s comment. “This is the industrial area. All our resources are concentrated on the Challenger Project. But there are plans to clear zones. Some of those plants are three centuries old.”
Ewen spotted a deep nova shelter sign but Simo refused to be drawn on the subject. The ground car hummed passed a solar power station where hundreds of photovoltaic panels in serried rows tracked the sun. The ugly sprawl gradually gave way to broad sweeps of landscaped public gardens and ornamental lakes - open spaces that Jenine looked at longingly.
But it was the residential area, with its spacious bungalows and large, well kept trim, watered gardens that really captured her attention.
“Are those individual houses?”
“Yes.” Simo nodded. “I can guess what you’re thinking. They’re large.”
“Large?” Jenine echoed. “They’re huge. There’s a house like that for each family?”
“Oh, yes. And they get even bigger ahead.”
They passed beautiful tropical gardens - settings for houses that were almost completely hidden by lush vegetation. There were swimming pools with parties of boisterous children playing and laughing with their parents.
“Private swimming pools,” Jenine muttered disbelievingly. She tried to imagine what it would be like to live in such a house; to be able to throw windows open in the morning and look out on such luxury; to have children romping through broad halls and spacious rooms; or to just to have children…
Ewen guessed what she was thinking. He took her hand and held it tightly, but she was too preoccupied with the passing wonders to notice.
“Will we be able to have such a house, Simo?”
Their host gestured ahead as they turned into an imposing avenue of palms that led up a shallow gradient to the most magnificent building that Ewen and Jenine ha
d ever seen.
“That’s where we’re headed.”
Even after the wonders they had seen, the appearance of the graceful tower with its bronze-tinted glass facade, shining like a gold ingot, amid fountains, flowerbeds and lawns rendered the visitors temporarily speechless. A few people were using the broad flight of steps outside the entrance without appearing to give them a second thought.
This, they knew, was the seat of power of Challenger City.
“Welcome to Challenger Three Project Headquarters,” said Simo as the ground car sighed to a halt. “You will have already heard of this place under another name. Its phoney name.”
“We have?” Jenine queried.
“The Revelation Centre,” Simo answered.
The ground car’s canopy opened and the heat fastened onto them like a fetid beast. They climbed out and gazed up at the imposing building while the ground car hissed off to find a parking space.
“Is this is where we’ll meet the project director?” Ewen asked.
“It is indeed,” Simo replied. “He’s expecting you. He likes to greet all new crewmen personally. In case you think that the security seems to be non-existent, the circuitry to give you access to this building, or anywhere for that matter, is built into your uniform.”
They stumbled on the steps because there was no handrail, passed through an open entrance that consisted of a curtain of deliciously cool air, and entered a broad, marbled area. Even without the subdued light, the glowing cube of shimmering blue light in the centre of the lobby would have caught the attention. Ewen and Jenine approached the iridescent cube and stared at the huge, snub-ended cylinder that was imprisoned in the cube against a dazzling background of stars.
“We mustn’t keep the project director waiting,” said Simo awkwardly.
But Ewen was too captivated to hear him. “It’s the Challenger, isn’t it?”
“A live hologram replication of Challenger Three,” Simo explained. “It’s very near completion.”
They moved closer to the cube and could see more detail: what appeared to be tiny machines moving about on the ship’s featureless skin; a pin-prick glow of a welding torch; ant-like figures in heavy suits tethered to the stupendous bulk by gossamer threads. Ewen stepped to one side and the blue-green disk of the earth came into view, blanking out the stars with its brightness. In that moment he knew what he wanted above all else: he wanted to be on that ship. It was a need that burned into his being with the intensity of a hot needle thrust into his subconscious. He wanted to look sideways at Jenine, to see if her look of wonder mirrored his thoughts, but he could not bear to tear his gaze away from the magnificent ship.
“We must be going,” said Simo, taking their arms and steering them away. He led them across the glazed floor to a lift. Two women crewmen stepped out and nodded a friendly greeting to the three.
“Project director’s level,” said Simo for the benefit of the lift’s voice recognition system.
The lift hummed. Jenine gasped at the view when the doors opened. They stepped into a palatial reception area that covered most of the floor so that three sides consisted of floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on the industrial complex on one side, and verdant forests on the other. Jenine pressed her nose to the glass and looked longingly down at the gardens and ornamental lakes that surrounded the building.
“This is where I leave you, crewmen,” said Simo sorrowfully, moving back to the lift. “The director will be along in a few minutes. Take a seat.”
“And what will you do now, Simo?” Jenine asked.
“Oh - I’ll be getting some sleep.”
“You live in this building?”
“Eh - yes. I have sleeping accommodation here.” He seemed anxious to avoid further questions and stepped quickly into the lift.
“Will we see you again?”
Simo managed a cheerless smile as the doors closed. “Oh, definitely. In the morning. Goodbye.”
Ewen joined Jenine at the windows and looked out on rolling hills and forests. “I think we’re even higher than we were on that hilltop,” he commented absently while trying to fix every detail of the wonderful hologram in the lobby in his mind.
A movement caught their eye. Near the edge of the forest was a broad road. Not only were its considerable width and white markings puzzling, but it seemed to start from nowhere, run dead straight away from them, and come an abrupt stop at the distant trees. On a narrow feeder road nearest the observers was a strange object that looked like a chord-metro passenger capsule that had been fitted with wheels, wings, and a tail fin - not unlike those on the various fish that they had seen washed up along the foreshore of their island. The curious vehicle was moving into position at the end of the strip of roadway. It stopped when it was perfectly centred on white markings in the middle of the strip.
“Those are wings,” said Ewen excitedly. “It’s some sort of flying machine.”
A tongue of fire and smoke suddenly spewed silently from the rear of the machine and hit a long, concave wall that directed the flames upwards. The machine started moving just as the great roll of muffled thunder reached the building. It accelerated at an extraordinary speed and lifted off the ground with plenty of runway to spare. To the astonishment of the watchers, instead of gradually gaining height once airborne as a bird would do, the machine’s nose came up sharply, the rocket engines burned with increased energy and the aircraft went into a fast, vertical climb, riding on a huge column of fire, fumes and thunder until was a fast-dwindling speck in the colour-saturated blue. And Ewen knew that this was the fire and thunder he had witnessed on the island.
“The weekly shuttle taking supplies up to Challenger Three,” said a voice behind them.
They wheeled round and stared at the gaunt, cloaked figure that was regarding them. He was the tallest man that Jenine had ever seen. The bright sunlight made fire on his rimless glasses.
“Quite a spectacle,” continued the man. “I never tire of it, so I can well imagine its affect on someone who has never seen it before.”
Ewen’s jaw moved but he was unable to speak, and with good reason. The new arrival was the Supreme Representative of the Guardian of Destiny; First Secretary to the Emperor of Arama; Chairman of the Emperor’s Advisory Committee; Vice-Chancellor of the GoD Training Centre; and Supreme Vice-Commander of the Armed Forces of Arama.
His name was Caudo Inman.
And his smile was ice.
6.
It was pleasant in Inman’s office. The windows had been fifty-percent polarized so that the afternoon light was subdued without being sombre, and the hot drinks that Inman poured for his guests were delicious, as were the cakes that a steward had wheeled in on a trolley.
Ewen watched the gnarled hand setting down the jug and had to remind himself that this was the much-feared ruler of Arama refilling their cups.
Inman settled back in his chair and regarded his guests. Behind the spectacles, the hard, unfriendly eyes that had bored into Ewen with such hostility at his trial now held the faintest flicker of amusement. “Well, Ewen and Jenine… I see every escapee from Arama. They are owed an explanation but in your case, I hardly know where to begin.”
“How about at the beginning?” Jenine suggested, simultaneously finding her voice and nerve.
Inman inclined his head in agreement and looked sad. “Escapees are rare. Much rarer than we’d prefer. Escapees of the quality of you two are even rarer… A hot air balloon indeed.” He was silent for a moment, marshaling his thoughts. Ewen nerved himself to filch another cake.
“Firstly, my name. I can well understand how intimidating I must seem to you. That’s been the whole idea, but I’d prefer it if you called me Caudo.”
“Caudo,” Ewen agreed, talking with his mouth full.
“You’ve had your little mindwarp crammer of course. Not a very subtle program, but one that provides a quick insight into the concept of suns and planets, and time and space.”
“We had alread
y worked out that this is a planet,” said Ewen, wondering if it would be considered bad manners to help himself to another cake.
Inman looked surprised. “You have? How?”
Jenine described their triangulation and height experiments on the island, and concluded saying, “Ewen’s first figures were way out, but I corrected his calculations and we arrived at a figure for this planet’s diameter that’s turned out to be within ten percent.”
Inman was silent for a moment as he regarded his guests with renewed interest. “Lengths of vine as base lines… Remarkable,” he said quietly. “Truly remarkable. I was right about you two all those years ago.”
“Right about what?” Ewen inquired.
“My attention was drawn to the results of your selection tests. I thought then… But no matter. I have a story to tell that goes back 600-years, and even further…
“We know from the records left by astronomers of previous civilizations that our sun underwent a profound change several millennia ago. It is no longer the stable, life-giving main sequence star that triggered the stirring of life on this planet. Every so often it goes through cyclic spasms in which it throws off streams of deadly heavy particles. Luckily it is possible to shelter from them deep in the earth’s crust. The particles are stopped by rock. There are many minor eruptions but we have spectral and gravimeter instruments near the sun which give us six hours’ advance warning of them. The last was ten years ago and lasted over a hundred days.” He paused and smiled thinly. “I believe you’ve entered one of the shelters.”
“Deep Nova Shelter C,” said Jenine.
Inman nodded. “So it was you. Well, it was inevitable that someone would escape into one eventually. Nova is a misnomer, but it’s a name we’ve kept out of respect for the past. No engineer or scientist working on the Challenger Project, or their families, is ever more than an hour from a deep nova shelter. But the really serious flares occur every 850 years. The last one occurred a little over 600 years ago.” His impassiveness slipped for a moment as though he were recalling an unpleasant memory. “Every 850 years, Mankind has been hurled back and has had to pick up the pieces and start again. The last nova was the worst in recorded history. Just over 90,000 souls survived although many of them were genetically damaged and could not reproduce. 90,000 out of a world population of one billion… All the machines and technology survived, therefore they had food - plenty of food - and all the riches of the planet at their disposal.”
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