Seeds of Earth

  of his work, sorting, image-tabbing and storing. Before

  him was a shallow box full of cloth sample bags con-

  taining shards of pottery and other vessels removed

  from a recently discovered midden in the northern

  corner of the Giant's Shoulder site. Similar finds had

  been made ever since the colonists began building or

  tilling the land along the coast. Whatever the location,

  unearthed pottery fragments showed a fondness for bul-

  bous, organic shapes fabulously adorned with flora and

  fauna. But those found on Giant's Shoulder were more

  plainly decorated with curious symbols like raindrops or

  stylised flames, usually drawn around small bumps and

  nubs in the glazed surface. Oddly, most Uvovo Greg

  spoke to expressed uncertainty about their meaning,

  claiming that such symbols were not used on Nivyesta,

  under the spreading canopies of Segrana.

  So now the scholars and researchers had found a new

  source of remains, either a pile of discards or a store that

  had been wrecked in the cataclysm event that struck

  Darien ten millennia ago. Greg was just starting on the

  last bag of finds when there was a knock at the door. A

  glance at the clock on the shelf made him realise how

  long he had been working, and out loud he said,'(!oi le

  in.'

  The door opened and a middle-aged man in an

  Earthsphere olive-and-maroon uniform entered.

  'Doctor Cameron?'

  'Indeed I am, and you must be Sub-Lieutenant Lavelle,'

  he said, rising to shake hands. 'Good to know that the

  Heracles can do without its junior officers - we must be

  living in a state of impeccable safety and security!'

  'Certainly feels that way, sir,' said the officer with a

  smile. Then he saw what Greg was working on. 'If

  you're busy I can come back another time.'

  'Just now is fine, Mr Lavelle,' he said. 'Since our

  exchange of messages yesterday, I've been looking for-

  ward to showing a real xeno-specialist round the place.

  I'm almost finished here anyway, so if you would follow

  me ...'

  'Please, call me Marcus.'

  'Okay, you be Marcus and I'll be Greg,' he said as

  they stepped outside.

  Despite his composed air, Greg was truly excited at

  being able to show off the site to a visitor from Earth.

  The vee and the papers were full of profiles of non-

  Human races, although the focus had settled on upright

  bipeds like the Sendruka, the Henkaya and the

  Gomedra. He was eager to find out how the temple site

  and other Uvovo remains rated in the Human experi-

  ence of other worlds and civilisations.

  Briskly, he led the xeno-specialist Lavelle across the

  flagstoned centre of the excavation, explaining on the

  way that this was the roof of a large central structure

  and that in all probability an ancient Uvovo complex lay

  directly beneath their feet.

  'Houses, rooms, galleries, outbuildings,' Greg said.

  'Who knows what might be down there, carved out of

  the rock? All we have to do is dig out ten thousand

  years' worth of compacted biomass soil and countless

  root networks. Just think of all the spades we'll go

  through.'

  They came to a halt before a tall wooden scaffolding

  lashed here and there to a sheer stone wall covered with

  relief carvings. The action of rainwater and plant

  growth over the centuries had left veinlike grooves in the

  stone as well as cracked and blank areas, but what

  remained was breathtaking. An intricate intertwining of

  images, trees, creatures and the Uvovo themselves filled

  the lower part of the wall, while above the carven

  jungle, hanging amid a starry sky, were several geomet-

  ric shapes from which spine- and hook-like objects

  rained down. Yet from the jungle mass thin shafts lanced

  upwards, spearing through some of the invaders which

  were depicted in pieces. Greg pointed out the details as

  they climbed the scaffold.

  'War in the heavens, Marcus,' he said. 'Uvovo legend

  calls it the War of the Long Night, an epic struggle

  between two groups of transcendent beings, the

  Dreamless, cold and pitiless, and the benevolent, com-

  passionate Ghost Gods on whose side the Uvovo, or

  rather their protector Segrana, fought. Which is how

  their sagas tell it.'

  Lavelle nodded. 'Segrana, the living forest - is it true

  that they believe it to be a conscious entity?'

  'Yes, they do. Segrana is part of the web of life,

  opposed to an antilife principle occasionally referred to

  as the Unmaker . .. did you access the university files as

  I suggested?'

  'Yes, I did - your notes on the Uvovo sites are quite

  extensive but I managed to pick up the main points before

  leaving for Darien.'

  'I see,' Greg said, feeling slightly nonplussed. 'Well,

  I'll spare you the basic spiel then . . . oh, you know

  about Ferguson's maps of Nivyesta and the first shuttle

  missions?'

  Lavelle nodded and took out a small flat grey unit

  and patted it. 'I went over a summary of the colony's

  history on my way down. You followed a very interest-

  ing path to get where you are today.'

  Greg laughed. 'You mean we were a capricious,

  squabbling rabble!'

  'Well, divergent and competitive,' Lavelle said with a

  half-smile.

  'Wouldn't you say that Earth's history since the

  Swarm War has been at least as interesting?' Greg said.

  'Explorers on other colony worlds must have uncovered

  the remains of vanished civilisations as well as discover-

  ing existing ones.'

  'There are more historical parallels than you might

  think,' Lavelle said. 'About sixty years ago we and some

  of our allies joined the Sendruka Hegemony in their inter-

  diction against the Jesme Aggregation because one of

  their planet-clans was supporting insurgents within

  Brolturan territory. Anyway, almost half of the Human

  colonies were so opposed to it that they resigned from

  the Earthplus Council, cut off all ties with the home-

  world, and started calling themselves the Vox Humana

  League. When the campaign ended a few years later,

  some ties were restored but certain embargoes - on

  weapons for example - remain in force to this day.'

  Greg nodded. 'We've had our schisms as well. During

  the New Town Secession, the Scots, Rus and Norj allies

  formed armed camps against one another which caused

  a lot of bitterness considering all the intermarriage and

  cross-community links.'

  'Yes, and the bitterness still affects policy decisions

  decades later. The Vox Humana rebels continue to defy

  Earthsphere sovereignty and refuse to play their part in

  the Security Net, while malcontents on Earth and other

  worlds launch public attacks on our coalition with the

  Hegemony. But the fact is that it's a dangerous galaxy

  out there and we have to stand by our true friends in the


  face of the threat to our shared values. Anti-Sendrukans

  I've got no time for.'

  Shared values? Greg thought. It seemed like a strange

  declaration to make, one he would normally have

  latched on to and probed until its meaning became

  clearer. But he decided to say nothing and let the man

  talk.

  'As for remains of vanished cultures, some colony

  worlds have reported quite a few finds - habitable plan-

  ets near the ancient centres and flows of galactic

  civilisation usually provide some evidence of previous

  occupation. As soon as major discoveries are made,

  however, the sites are supposed to be opened up for

  inspection by the Grand Commission for Antiquities

  unless a commission signatory files an objection. In the

  case of Darien, four have done so - four, which is almost

  unheard of. Earthsphere was first to file under rights of

  sovereignty and duty of care towards the Uvovo; the

  Brolturans then filed their objections with the

  Commission, claiming that the Darien system lies within

  a tract of space promised to them by their god,

  Voloasku, as explicitly written in the Omgur, their

  divine scripture ...'

  'Voloasku? So who's Voloasti? - I heard that men-

  tioned by someone.'

  'That's the supreme being of the Hegemony's ortho-

  dox creed,' Lavelle said. 'Also supported by their version

  of the Omgur which, for some reason, hasn't led to sim-

  ilar claims.'

  'You cannot be serious,' Greg said, laughing.

  'I'm afraid I am,' Lavelle said. 'The third to object

  was the Second Spiral Sage of Buranj, who claimed that

  your temple's position on a jutting promontory exactly

  matches the description of the tomb of the divine Father-

  Sage Arksasbe. He also insists that the defiling presence

  of non-believers ceases immediately.'

  Greg stared at him for an astonished moment, then

  leaned forward to gaze out at the worn walls and

  columns, the Uvovo scholars working in a stepped

  trench near the northern barrier and the Rus

  researchers, who were patiently sifting dirt removed

  from the test ditches over to the south. Then he looked

  back at Lavelle, smiling.

  'Unfortunately, Marcus, it doesn't look as though

  these non-believers are likely to drop what they are

  doing. And in fact, I think that my own non-devoutness

  has actually deepened since learning of the esteemed

  Second Spiral Sage's decree ... by the way, is there a

  First Spiral Sage?'

  'Oh yes, but he's far too devout to be sullied by tem-

  poral matters.'

  'But of course. So who filed the fourth objection?'

  'The Hegemony. They argued that the Grand

  Commission of Antiquities cannot carry out its work

  until the conflicting claims of sovereignty and title have

  been resolved. Accordingly, all four objectors have

  appointed adjudicators and the first hearings will take

  place soon.' Lavelle grinned. 'The whole process could

  take two or three years!'

  Greg smiled uncertainly. 'You seem very pleased

  about all of this, Marcus, and I don't know why.'

  'Well, if the Commission's inspectors had been

  empowered to oversee this site, you and your people

  would probably be prohibited from any excavation or

  artefact-handling, on grounds of inadequate training or

  the use of lo-tech instruments. But they haven't, which

  means you can continue working here . . .' He paused.

  '.. . and 1 can show you the location of the underground

  chambers and their hidden entrance.'

  Greg's thoughts jolted to a halt, and he stared at the

  man. 'Wha ... what did you say?'

  Lavelle glanced out at the site then went on in quieter

  tones.

  'Greg, the cornerstone of field archaeology is deter-

  mining where the treasure is before you begin digging.

  A researcher from, say, Planitia University would have

  the equipment to make any number of subsurface scans

  before breaking ground, but you don't have that

  luxury. On the other hand, I have - I used Heracles's

  sensor array to make focused scans of the interior of

  Giant's Shoulder.' From an inner pocket he took a

  folded sheaf of pages and gave them to Greg. 'These are

  copies made yesterday and the day before - there's not

  much fine detail but you can see the regular lines of the

  buried temple complex and beneath it.. .'

  Greg stared at several views of Giant's Shoulder, dig-

  ital sweeps showing a vaguely block-shaped recess

  extending about 60 metres down into the promontory,

  just as he had speculated. And there, not far below, was

  something circular - glancing between pages, contrast-

  ing different views, it really did look like a chamber of

  some kind, circular, perhaps 80 metres across . . .

  He peered closer, sorted through the images, com-

  paring two in particular, one of which seemed to show a

  thready, fragmentary straight line leaving the mysterious

  chamber and pointing south, while the other had a sim-

  ilar line leading inwards from the southern face of

  Giant's Shoulder, pointing north.

  'It is what it looks like,' said Lavelle. 'It's an entrance-

  way and a passage of some kind.'

  Greg stared at the images with a burning intensity,

  thinking about the sheer sides of Giant's Shoulder,

  cracked and weathered rock faces veiled in tangles of

  vine and half-dead root. Only experienced climbers

  could safely traverse that kind of headwall, yet when he

  mentioned this to Lavelle he laughed and nodded.

  'Well, fortunately I am a qualified climber, so if you

  need my help .. «'

  Greg looked up. 'Is tomorrow too soon?'

  'Hmm, I'm rostered on tomorrow morning - how

  about in the afternoon?'

  'That would be . . . perfect. Marcus, forgive me for

  asking, but what do you have to gain out of this?'

  Lavelle smiled thoughtfully, as if partly at his own

  thoughts. 'I guess I could say it's about fame and recog-

  nition - well, maybe that is part of it but mainly it's the

  chance to explore an ancient hidden mystery never

  before seen by Humans, to be the first to see it and

  touch it! It's the fourteen-year-old in me, I'm afraid.'

  'In that case, my fourteen-year-old salutes yours -

  perhaps we should start a club.'

  Laughing, the two men descended the scaffold lad-

  ders, arranged for tomorrow, said farewells and parted,

  Lavelle heading for the zeplin station, Greg hurrying

  back to the cataloguing hut. On entering he noticed a

  message tag on his workstation's screen, a black-and-

  yellow one signifying a locked priority, the kind that

  seldom contained good news. He keyed in his password,

  read it through, and groaned. Then reread it, just to be

  sure, and this time laughed drily. The message was from

  the office of V. Petrovich, the Director of the Darien

  Institute, informing Greg that tomorrow, at noon, Highr />
  Monitor Kuros - and his extensive entourage - would

  be making a very official, very public visit to Giant's

  Shoulder. Several hours prior to this, an officer from the

  Office of Guidance and the commander of the High

  Monitor's bodyguard would arrive to inspect the site

  and ensure its security. Greg was to offer them com-

  plete cooperation and full access to all areas and to all

  personnel records. It ended with a pointed and direct

  instruction, essentially a prohibition on his 'indulging in

  any commentary or verbal wordplay that could be con-

  strued as antagonistic or insulting'.

  Greg smiled, shook his head. The director was an old

  sparring partner and knew just what he was capable of,

  a state of being not unlike that of the reporter, Lee

  Shan .. . who, he realised, would almost certainly be

  present tomorrow.

  You wait and hope for a good audience to come

  along, he thought, then suddenly it's there but you're not

  allowed to perform.

  Then he realised that he would have to postpone

  tomorrow's exploration with Lavelle so, with a sigh, he

  sat down at his desk and began composing a short mes-

  sage.

  1 2

  ROBERT

  The Earthsphere embassy was a modest, two-storey

  townhouse near the centre of Hammergard, timber-

  framed and part of a short terrace of commercial

  properties and offices. Although the embassy staff had

  only had the keys for four days, Robert Horst had

  insisted that their public information desk was up and

  running from day one. This was in stark contrast to the

  Sendrukan Hegemony embassy, which was a villa in

  walled grounds in an affluent district, and which was

  reportedly refusing all requests and approaches.

  Robert Horst was in a conference call with Deputy-

  President Jardine and the opposition Consolidation

  party's external affairs spokeswoman, Linn Kringen,

  and trying to explain why there was little or no open-

  ness from the Hegemony representative.

  '. . . what you have to understand is that High

  Monitor Kuros is not an official Hegemony ambassa-

  dor,' he said to the faces on his desk screen. 'Officially,

  Darien falls within the Brolturan sphere of influence, so

  Kuros has to wait for the Brolturans to appoint their

  own representative before taking on an ambassadorial