Trusted her. Would he have let her come down here if she’d asked? She hadn’t. She’d lied to Hanestran. A tendril of doubt uncurled. He thought they were friends; he thought he knew her. “How did you lose her?”
“With respect, Srimana, she disappeared when the building we were working in collapsed.”
A cold finger of dread clutched at Ravindra’s heart.
“No, she’s not dead,” Hanestran added quickly. “Or at least, she escaped from the collapse. I lost three people, buried in the rubble. Last I saw her she was heading for the shuttle, which was parked in a nearby square. She was panicked, running. I expected she’d reach the ship and wait for us. I’m sorry, Srimana. I went back to the building to check on my people.” His jaw was set, ready for any rebuke.
Rebukes wouldn’t get her back. “So she never reached the shuttle?”
“She wasn’t there when I arrived just a few minutes later. I contacted Senior Commander Prasad immediately.”
“Prasad?”
“We found evidence of a struggle in a nearby laneway. Three people ran from the plaza. A scuffle broke out. Someone fell and the other two carried the third to a vehicle. There were other soldiers around, searching for bodies, clearing debris. So far that’s all we can tell you, Srimana,” Prasad said.
“In the matter of Suri Selwood, you will refer to me. Always.” Ravindra bit off the words. “It’s too late now. I understand your concern for your own people. I will consider what to do. You have not heard the end of this. Dismissed.”
Hanestran stiffened, bowed and marched to the exit. No need for Ravindra to tell him what they’d lost. Some sort of punishment was in order but he should be calmer for that. “Well, Prasad? What are your initial thoughts?”
“At first glance, Srimana, it looks as though she has been abducted. Which would mean she was followed. However, perhaps she contrived to make it look like she was abducted? Clearly she wanted to go down to the planet. And I take it you did not give approval.”
“No. But then, Bunyada is almost certain to know what she can do since Jones disappeared. They would follow and wait for a chance.”
“Indeed, Srimana. Or she could wait for a chance to join him.”
A surge of jealousy swept through him. Foolish. All the evidence indicated she cared not a jot for Jones. “And we still have no report of where Jones is?”
“No. Mahanadi has been scoured, so has Sayvu’s home planet, especially her father’s estate. We have no leads and no ideas.”
“But you still think Bunyada has him.”
“Yes. And it would be my guess they would also want Suri Selwood.”
Yes, a valuable resource for anybody. “Find her, Prasad. However she disappeared, I want her back and I want answers.” For the fight against the Yogina, first and foremost.
Prasad departed.
Deliberate defection to the enemy or an abduction? She’d seemed so comfortable working with Hanestran on the Yogin ship. True, their early relationship had been rocky but she’d mellowed and last night… last night; she hadn’t been pretending. She enjoyed it as much as he had.
“Is everything all right, Admiral? Anything I can do?”
Fohrai stood beside him. He hadn’t noticed the Governor’s approach. “No.” He licked his lips. “Let’s… let’s proceed with the dinner.”
Chapter Twenty
The nurse brought breakfast up to Morgan’s room. She ate with relish, savoring the fruit and bread. The night’s sleep had done her good and she felt much better. Better, but not perfect. Her mind felt a bit like an unused attic, with cobwebs and dust over everything. More clothes had been added to the wardrobe; pants and jackets in gaudy colors and a number of elaborate dresses. Morgan picked burgundy pants, a silver-grey shirt and short boots. Pity about the pointed toes but you couldn’t have everything.
She was sitting in the crowded sitting room when the nurse opened the door to a discreet knock.
Jones came in, accompanied by a man she didn’t know.
Tallish, yellow eyes, a dark green outfit that looked a bit like a uniform, except for the lace at collar and cuffs and the knee-high boots. The long hair with streaks of bright green through it wouldn’t be regulation, either. He stared at her as though she’d vanish if he stopped looking.
“Feeling better?” Jones said.
“Yes. Thank you.” She looked at his companion.
“This is Sitivan Asbarthi, who rescued me from Mahanadi.”
Rescue, not escape. He’d told her all about his dramatic snatching from the University. Jones was in this right up to his eyes.
The man bowed. “I am delighted to meet you Suri. And I apologize for the rough treatment you have received. It was not our intent. I trust you will forgive us and join our bid to free ourselves from oppression as Sur Jones has.”
Both men sat.
“Jones says you have some evidence?” Morgan said.
“We have. Do you feel up to an expedition?”
“I do. It will be nice to get some fresh air.” And wasn’t that the truth?
“I must ask one thing, Suri,” Asbarthi said. “Your… er… unusual appearance attracts interest. Will you darken your skin before we set out? I’m not expecting anything untoward, you understand. I just don’t want to ask for attention.” He smiled at her, face open and honest.
She might not quite believe him but what the hell; she’d already decided to play along, if only to find out what the game was. Besides, the precaution was understandable; everyone here was as curious of her appearance as the crew of Vidhvansaka had been. “Of course.”
“Thank you.” He handed her a jar. “We must take a picture for your ID card before we leave.”
When Morgan came back from the washroom, face and hands suitably darkened, Jones was gone. Asbarthi inspected her makeup job and had a guard take a picture, which the man took with him when he left the room.
“He will make up an ID card. Meanwhile, if you will come downstairs to meet the others?” Asbarthi opened the door for her.
Well, that was a change. Different rules in the Vesha world, it seemed. She stepped out into the corridor in front of him.
The guard glanced at her and directed a bow at Asbarthi.
Morgan scanned the passage as she walked. Ornate ceiling, pale green carpet with a curling pattern in a darker green, deep red walls hung with pictures, all with their own little light on top of the frame. The ceiling soared into gloom but an enhancement of the image revealed the same intricate artwork that embellished her bedroom. No sensors, just a few security cameras. This society certainly wasn’t big on technology.
The corridor led to what became a mezzanine above a wide hall. A stairway curved down to the ground floor. A chandelier cast fractured light that bounced off the walls, glanced off golden statuettes and vases and picked out the lines of the engravings in the tiled floor. Three faces looked up at her as she descended. Curiosity, anticipation and veiled hostility. A mixed bag, then.
She smiled politely as Asbarthi introduced her to an older couple, Hai Sur Devagnam and Hai Suri Indira Devagnam, the owners of the house. They were as over-dressed as Jones had been yesterday. Tight pants tucked into high boots was obviously the height of male fashion at the moment, but His Lordship’s purple ensemble wasn’t entirely flattering. His wife dripped with jewelry; earrings that banged around her shoulders, a tiara affair woven into an elaborate mountain of hair piled on her head and several strands of necklace.
“We’re so delighted to have you here at last,” Hai Suri Indira trilled, holding Morgan’s arm with talon-tipped fingers.
“I would like to add my deepest regret at your rough treatment in traveling here. We certainly never intended that you should come to harm,” her husband said.
The tall young woman in red pants and jacket pushed forward, casting a meaningful glance at Asbarthi. He took the hint. “And this is their daughter, Hai Suri Lakshmi Devagnam.”
“Nice to meet you,” Morgan said. Al
though she wasn’t sure about that. You could always tell a bitch when you met one. She’d noticed the other woman’s quickly stifled affront when Asbarthi introduced her to Morgan, not the other way around. A woman with a high opinion of herself. “Where’s Jones?”
“Sur Jones will not be joining us for this expedition. He has already seen the site and did not care to attend,” Asbarthi said.
Fine by her. She hadn’t liked him much before. Now… she didn’t trust the man at all. He fitted right in here, with the fancy clothes and the opulent wealth.
“I’m sure you’ll find the site interesting,” Asbarthi said. “Lakshmi and I are looking forward to showing it to you.”
“It will be nice to see a bit of a planet,” Morgan said. That was absolutely honest. “I haven’t seen much but the inside of a space ship for months. If you don’t count the quick visit to Electra.”
Asbarthi escorted them out tall front doors, opened for them by a servant wearing yellow and blue livery. Outside, broad steps of blue and red stone led to a graveled driveway that curved between hedges in both directions. Further from the house, large old trees cast long shadows over neat lawns and border plantings. A man in the same livery as the servant waited beside a long, bronze skimmer.
“Lovely garden,” Morgan said as she descended the steps.
“We employ ten gardeners,” Lakshmi said, her feet crunching on the gravel as they approached the vehicle. Elaborate golden earrings dangled to her shoulders, winking in the sunlight as she moved.
“It’s a large estate,” Asbarthi said. “What you see here, within the walls, is the hall. Hai Sur Devagnam owns the surrounding farmsteads and the township, too.”
“And I govern all of it on my father’s behalf,” Lakshmi said.
The man opened the door for them and Morgan entered an enclosed cabin fitted with benches facing each other. She sat opposite Asbarthi and Lakshmi.
“The skimmer will take us to Professor Unwyn’s base camp,” said Asbarthi as the car rose and pulled away. “From there, we’ll need something a little tougher to take us to the site.”
At least she’d get to see a little of the countryside. The skimmer cruised gently around the drive and out of gates set in high stone walls. The road passed between cultivated fields, some carrying livestock, others filled with crops. In the distance a plough worked a field, throwing up dust as it went.
A village appeared suddenly, round a bend in the road. A row of identical houses built close together, each with its own small front garden behind a neat fence, lined both sides. She craned her head, noting children playing, men and women in the streets; ordinary manesa leading ordinary lives. The vehicle slowed, cruising between shops. She glimpsed goods in the front windows, colorful crates of produce under awnings outside, people with shopping carts. How quaint. How old fashioned. Where she came from, you ordered goods on your communicator. Or your kitchen ordered them for you when you ran out of milk or whatever. And the shopping carts here had wheels.
Two people in black uniforms sauntered along side-by-side, fingers in their belts. The man and woman stopped and stared at the skimmer as it slipped past them.
“Are they police?” Morgan asked.
“Governor Murag’s enforcers.” Asbarthi’s nostrils flickered as though he smelt something bad.
Morgan turned her head to see. He wasn’t the only one who didn’t like them. The townspeople seemed to be deliberately avoiding them, getting out of their way.
Outside the town the skimmer increased speed, following a well-made main road. The forested slopes of the foothills marched to their right, the mountains towering above the treetops. Morgan slipped into the vehicle’s navigation system and learned this was the main road to Krystor Central. That was worth knowing.
After some time the skimmer turned right along a little-used track that climbed up through pasture, then thickening forest into the high country. The trees were left behind, replaced by rugged rock and low, scrubby vegetation. Mountains dominated the skyline, rising ever higher; stern, impenetrable with a stark beauty of their own. Snow on the higher slopes dazzled the eye. And would no doubt freeze the feet.
At last the vehicle slowed, stopped and sank down onto a level space like a platform cleared in the lee of a cliff. The mountains rose all around them, steep and bare. Morgan climbed out onto rough dirt. A cold blast of grit-laden wind had her fastening her coat. Far below, reddish-grey slopes merged into the soft purple of the forest.
A man approached, snug in a thick, dark-brown jacket. His eyes were bright blue, almost glowing against his dark skin and he smiled when he saw her. He would have scored top marks for sex appeal on any planet. A very, very attractive man. No, not as attractive as Ravindra. Shut up.
“Ah, Professor Unwyn,” Asbarthi said in response to the bow. “I would like you to meet Morgan Selwood, the woman I spoke of.”
He stared briefly at her eyes before he bowed. “A pleasure, Suri. You and your companion are indeed the stuff of legend. If you will all come this way.” Producing a key tag from his pocket, Unwyn led the way toward a flat-roofed building nestled against the rock wall.
Lakshmi slipped her hand around Unwyn’s arm. “I hope you have something warm to drink in there, Raj. I’m perishing.”
“It’s only been a few hours since breakfast, Lakshmi,” Asbarthi said. “We should get on to the dig.”
Morgan grinned. So the lovely Lakshmi wasn’t averse to a bit of extra-class messing about. She could have a bit of fun with this.
A wide door slid up and lights flickered on, revealing a heavy-duty skyvan parked next to a neat pile of drums and packing cases stacked against the exterior wall. Unwyn unlocked the skyvan and climbed into the driver’s seat. Morgan darted forward, beating Lakshmi to slip up beside him, leaving Asbarthi and a pouting Lakshmi to take their places behind. Morgan turned to smile at them, wondering what Asbarthi thought about his intended’s behavior. He sat silent, a slight smile curving his lips. Maybe he didn’t care.
The skyvan slid out of its bay, sending dust swirling around the ledge as it rose into the air. No luxury vehicle, this one. The fittings were strictly utilitarian, two seats in the front and three behind with a large goods compartment at the back, but at least the passenger cabin was climate-controlled. Unwyn turned the vehicle away, off the ledge and down into a long gorge. All around them the mountain range climbed higher, bare reddish walls topped with snow that glittered in the sun. Between them, deep chasms lay in darkness.
“You’re in luck,” Unwyn said. “You’re getting a marvelous view of the mountains. Usually they’re covered in cloud.”
“What about that one?” Morgan nodded at a peak in the middle distance, one with its own plume of cloud.
“That’s Mount Kali,” Unwyn said. “It’s started fuming again lately.”
Not that Morgan had much experience with volcanoes but the thing looked sinister, with that rolling coil of dark smoke rising into the air until it was whipped away by the jet stream. Was it her imagination, or could she see some red reflected on the bottom of the cloud?
“Hm,” Asbarthi said. “I confess I find the recent seismic activity a bit disturbing, Unwyn.”
“It’s being monitored,” Unwyn said. “After all, if it hadn’t been for a tremor, we wouldn’t have found this new site.”
Unwyn curved around the volcano and down a rocky valley. A river tumbled in its depths, the white water an occasional gleam. A vast plain opened before her, hazy and steamy, the glitter of ocean on the horizon. While these higher slopes were barren, a reddish-green carpet of forest spread from the foothills as far as the eye could see. The young river broadened out, sweeping through the plain in serpentine curves.
The skyvan slowed and descended into a rounded valley, sending up swirling clouds of dust as it settled.
Morgan slid out of the vehicle onto flaky, dusty ground next to a cluster of tents huddled under a ridge. A brisk breeze whipped her clothing and her hair as she gazed around. The
place was bare and uninviting but the view, on a clear day, would have been amazing. She could imagine this as a vantage point for the military, a place to build a castle. “What is this place?”
“This is the dig,” Unwyn said. “We found a building here, covered with volcanic ash from that mountain there.” He waved a hand.
She looked up to where he’d indicated. She’d expected something blasted and broken, the remnants of a violent explosion. Instead, the mountain stood snow-capped and symmetrical, almost smiling down at them.
“No lava reached here?”
“Not all eruptions spout lava. This mountain has been dormant for hundreds of years. Last time it erupted, it deposited another layer of ash in this valley.” Unwyn kicked the ground with his boot. “That’s one reason why we never knew what was underneath. Nobody ever comes up here. In fact, it’s almost impossible from down there.”
She could well believe that. Loose shale and grit so powdery even plants were finding it hard to get a foothold. “What’s under there?” she said, looking down.
“We’re guessing, of course. We think this was a stronghold or something equivalent to Hai Sur Devagnam’s home. It’s up here, above the fug of the jungle, but there is fertile land down there, quite close to the sea, that could be worked. If it ever was, the jungle’s claimed it back.”
“Come along, Professor,” Asbarthi said, rubbing his hands. “Let’s get on with it.” He turned toward the tents, Lakshmi in close attendance.
Unwyn hurried forward to lift the tent flap for them and Morgan stepped into the filtered light under the canopy. A table littered with artifacts and hand tools stood against a wall, along with half a dozen chairs. Neatly labeled cartons were stacked to one side. What looked like a hatch cover lay in the center.
Unwyn lifted the hatch, revealing a pit.
Morgan stared at the hole in the ground. The top of a ladder was just visible below the edge. She took a few steps forward, not too close, and leaned her body a little so she could see down. Her heart thumped a little faster. “You want me to go down there?” The words ‘you can’t be serious’ hung in the air.
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