Artemis Awakening (31 page)

Silhouetted against the starlit sky, for the moon was but a pale crescent that gave little light, the fishing boats sailed from their little harbor onto the open waters of the bay. After several ships had departed, Adara and Sand Shadow noiselessly paddled their canoe in pursuit, keeping a respectful distance.

The fleet—if a handful of fishing boats could be dignified with such a term—sailed out toward the islands, then angled to where the bulk of the islands would hide them from being seen from the town.

When they were at the farthest end, the fishing boats began to slow. No signal Adara could detect was given but, for the first time that night, a voice spoke above a whisper.

“Barrier is down. Come through.”

The voice was Julyan’s. At his command, the fishing boats turned. One after another, they sailed through what had been—when Adara had inspected it—unbroken shoal, certain to rip out the bottom of any boat that drew more than a foot or so of water.

Although Adara longed to close and inspect more closely, she held back. The currents that had so troubled her canoe would not bother these larger craft. Just because one barrier had been removed did not mean all had been.

Splashes and thumps indicated that the fishing vessels were relieving themselves of their cargo. Adara and Sand Shadow waited, occasionally paddling to keep from drifting, mostly taking advantage of the still water to rest and restore their strength.

The unloading did not take long. Clearly the fishing boats wanted to be well away by dawn. When they sailed out through the shoal, Adara and Sand Shadow did not follow, hoping to learn more when the crates and barrels were moved to wherever Julyan was stowing them. Despite her keen hearing, what sounds Adara heard were faint and few. Had she been of a superstitious mind, she might even have imagined that what she heard were the spirits of the slain seegnur, sighing in protest for their fate.

Interlude: Annihilated Love

Until touched nothing knowing

Knowing nothing ’til the probing

Knowing touch heralds destruction—

Destruction before any shape is taken.

Awareness glimmers, purpose comprehended,

     born from its elusive opposite.

How did nothing come to knowing?

From thine actions,

beloved, destroyed destroyer:

Midwife to the spreading spores of self.

Adieu.

17

Rozeta Revelation

Griffin was alone in the Sanctum when he finally had his breakthrough.

With the gradually warming weather, Adara had abandoned the suite as anything but a place to store her clothes. Doubtless she was catnapping somewhere as had become her habit during the day. The Old One had vanished on one of his mysterious errands. Terrell had accompanied Joffrey to enlist Sam the Mule in hauling a load of firewood. Jean had doubtless gone to market.

Since he was of a naturally optimistic temperament, Griffin’s initial disgruntlement faded as quickly as it had arisen. As much as he would have delighted in showing the rest what he had discovered, it would have been an academic exercise.

How much better,
he thought,
if I can find something new that these icons will help me understand. There were some areas in the arrival side of the facility that I have some insights into now. From what we’ve seen, the seegnur didn’t rely entirely on their machinery. It’s possible I’ll be able to operate some fail-safes. I bet there are service tunnels and …

Thoughts tumbling over each other, Griffin gathered up a pair of lanterns and stuck some extra candles in his pockets. It had become reflex to check that the lanterns had been filled, their wicks trimmed, and that there was sufficient extra wick.

First horse care, then campfire cooking, now this. I’m becoming an absolute paragon of the primitive arts.

Griffin considered where he might experiment most effectively. The communications center remained the area he would most like to see back in operation, but even if he could open the machinery, he lacked the means to undo the damage done by the nanobots.

Where, then? The hidden door isn’t marked with any icons, so that wouldn’t do any good. I know! How about the shuttle docking areas? There are all those control panels …

Resolved, Griffin hurried down the steps. Although he’d given the docking bay a cursory inspection on his initial visit, in the ensuing weeks he had gone over it carefully. The Old One had been quite proud of the number of instrument panels he’d located, and had shown him each and every one.

Griffin hung his lanterns where they’d give the best illumination and got to work. He was looking for a few specific icons: one he suspected meant “override” and another that he was sure meant “backup.” Just as the facility had stairs to substitute for lifts, Griffin had found other situations where the facility’s needs could be augmented by relatively mundane means. For one, the lower parts of the facility were not as hermetically sealed as they had initially believed. Air shafts could be opened to admit outside air. Skylights fed into intricate tubes lined with reflective material to bring in natural light. Therefore, if the power went out, the lower levels weren’t completely dark.

Griffin suspected that there was a similar light shaft for the shuttle bay, but he’d never bothered to look. He wondered if there was an auxiliary hangar somewhere. The existing landing facility simply didn’t seem large enough.

Of course, it’s also possible that all major repairs were done in orbit or at least parts fabrication was. They certainly had warehouses, but could they anticipate all models?

Griffin’s mind ambled down various paths, considering options, rejecting the most unlikely, coming up again and again against the fact that they simply didn’t know enough about how the seegnur’s technology worked.

While part of his mind was busy speculating, another portion was directed toward skimming the various control panels. Occasionally, he paused to copy an icon he wasn’t sure had made it to the master list. Griffin had learned that the Artemisians, accustomed as they were to the variations that were part of handcrafted materials, simply didn’t perceive the difference between one straight line and a somewhat shorter, wider straight line. To Griffin, the difference was as clear as that between the single stroke of the number one and the multiformed elements used for higher denominations.

Although several times Griffin noted the presence of the “override” and “backup” icons, he continued searching until he found one that was isolated from the bulk of the equipment. It would be a pity if he loosed one of the massive pieces of equipment so that it fell on his head. At last he found what he had been hoping for, a relatively small panel by itself on a wall near where the shuttles had been docked.

“Here goes nothing,” he said, pressing down on the “override” icon, shifting his thumb and forefinger through the complicated series of motions that he had learned would release a mechanical button or lever.

A lever emerged smoothly from the wall, looking as fresh as if it had last been used earlier that day, rather than five hundred years before. Inscriptions on its surface made perfectly clear the sequence of movements that should be worked through to release …

Shouldn’t I wait?
Griffin thought, even as he followed the directions.
But …

The temptation was too great. He finished the sequence, heard a decisive click, then a section of wall slid away to reveal the dark length of a tunnel.

Griffin was staring at his discovery in astonishment when something hit him smartly on the side of the neck. The inside of his eyes lit with a peculiar reddish blackness. Then he went limp and tumbled to the floor.

*   *   *

Griffin’s head throbbed. He hadn’t completely passed out. Now he tried to align various pain-shattered impressions into a sequence. He had found that tunnel. Then someone had hit him. Then he had been dragged into the tunnel. Now …

He eased his eyes open a slit. The tunnel was still mostly dark, lit by a dim glow from various scattered light sources. The door between the tunnel and the shuttle bay had been slid mostly closed. He could hear someone moving rapidly, the sound of a single set of boot soles slapping against the floor with considerable purpose.

The light is from my lanterns,
Griffin thought.
Someone brought them in here. Whoever did that is still out there. Doing what? Removing traces I that was ever down here? Yes.

It was hard to think with his head throbbing, but one idea came to Griffin with perfect clarity. If whoever had hit him wanted to remove any traces, then Griffin must do whatever he could to leave some sign that he had been here.

He found that he could just manage to sit up if he leaned back against the wall. As he moved, an uncomfortable bulky lump pressed against one hip. For a moment, all he felt was annoyance, then he registered what it must be.

My marbles,
he thought.
I stuffed them in my pocket when I went looking for Adara and Terrell. Figured we could have a game with Sand Shadow while I briefed them.

He became aware that the footsteps were becoming fainter.

Probably going to check if I left any traces in the communications center.

Griffin tried to rise but whoever had hit him had known precisely what to do. His knees felt like jelly.

Okay. Can’t run. Can’t even drag myself into the shuttle bay.

The bag of marbles pressed against his hip. Suddenly, Griffin grinned and pulled out one of the small clay spheres Terrell had shaped during their journey from Lynn’s outpost. Though his head throbbed, his fingers remembered their skill. Deftly, Griffin shot several marbles out into the other room, aiming so that they would rest against the wall behind the cradles that held the shuttles.

I’m betting the marbles will be completely hidden from whoever is out there. A useless gesture in most cases, but Sand Shadow will find them. Of course, what the others will make of them is anyone’s guess …

He heard the footsteps returning and stuffed the remaining marbles back into his pocket. Letting his eyelids slide closed, he waited, heart pounding wildly, for what was to come.

*   *   *

Adara spent much of the day after she’d spied on the fishing fleet sleeping in a comfortable bower she’d made for herself out in the forest. Midafternoon, she woke well rested, eager to tell Terrell and Griffin about what she and Sand Shadow had learned.

After washing up, she went directly over to the Trainers. There was always extra food there she was welcome to, since she and Sand Shadow did their part in contributing to the pot. Adara was finishing up a large helping of roast pork, brown bread, soft cheese, and raw vegetables when Terrell came in, dressed for riding.

“No Griffin today?” she asked as they walked over to the stable. “I hope he’s not working too hard translating those icons.”

Terrell shook his head. “I looked for him, but didn’t find him in any of the usual places. I didn’t see the Old One either, so maybe they went to the loremasters and Griffin couldn’t get back. Maybe he and Molly will meet us later.”

Over the days spent mapping the quarters, they had established an identity for Griffin with the loremasters. He was represented as someone who had come into Shepherd’s Call looking for a teacher. His parents had fled from some unnamed persecution into the distant mountains. There they had given their son the best education they could, but he was hungry for more. This explanation covered the holes in his knowledge adequately enough.

“They’re probably busy discussing linguistics,” Adara said. “You know how it is when they get going on some minor point.”

“Maybe,” Terrell replied slowly. “I feel uneasy … probably just too much roast pork. Now, your eyes are shining and you’re all but bouncing like a puppy. Tell me what you found out.”

When they were safely away from prying ears, Adara did so. Terrell was appropriately impressed.

“If we could only get onto those islands,” he said. “You heard Julyan say something about a barrier being lowered?”

“That’s right. That doesn’t sound promising. Whatever barrier he mentioned is probably back in place by now.”

“Still, that’s something to go on. You have an idea where the barrier is?”

“I did my best to note landmarks,” Adara said, “but it’s harder to judge distances from out on the water. I think I could get us fairly close.”

“Good.”

Terrell glanced behind them. Adara had noticed him doing so several times before this.

“You’re edgy.”

“Yeah. Let’s go back to the Sanctum. I don’t feel quite right. Maybe Jean has some tea that will soothe my nerves.”

Jean did have a tea, one involving chamomile, mint, and several other herbs. Terrell drank several cups but, if anything, he grew more edgy—especially since neither Griffin nor the Old One was anywhere about.

Eventually, the Old One did return—alone.

“Griffin? He was here when I went out, in the front room, working over his rozeta.”

They’d already seen Griffin’s work area. The slates he used to work out his ideas were smudged with chalk. His copy of the cheat sheet was neatly set under the ocean-polished rock he habitually used as a paperweight.

“That’s where he was when I went out with Joffrey,” Terrell confirmed.

“I left about an hour later,” the Old One said, beginning to look worried. “When Griffin wasn’t here upon my return, I thought he had gone riding with the two of you.”

“He never showed up,” Adara said. She’d caught Terrell’s anxiety now. “I can’t believe he just went for a walk. When he has a puzzle to solve, he’s like a scent hound on a trail.”

“Maybe he went swimming,” Jean suggested, catching the end of the discussion. “It gets awfully hot in here when the sun is pouring in through the windows. I offered to pull the curtains for Griffin, but he said he needed the light and asked for something cool to drink.”

“We’ll check the swimming beach,” Adara said, motioning for Sand Shadow. “Terrell, see if he left a note in our rooms.”