Artemis Awakening (34 page)

Griffin nodded. “Of course … I fully understand. Now, in order to analyze this facility, I’m going to need to understand how much of the islands are natural and how much are artificial…”

*   *   *

The Old One summoned Griffin some days later. Although the facility had been intended for large-scale projects, it possessed any number of smaller rooms as well. The one the Old One had taken as his office was actually built above ground, artfully concealed within a small rise. In the days when it had been constructed, it would have been completely invisible, for the windows could have been hidden behind holographic screens. Even today, with a few strands of some sort of flowering vine flowing over the opening, Griffin guessed it was very well concealed.

Once again, the contrast between high-tech sophistication as represented by the structure and low-tech scholarship as represented by the primitive writing implements on the Old One’s desk brought home to Griffin just how far he was from the worlds he knew.

“You wished to see me,” he said formally, deciding that it would be best to completely ignore the uncomfortable circumstances that had led to his coming here and act as Julyan and Dierks did—that this was all some odd variation on normalcy.

“Yes, I did. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to interview you sooner,” the Old One said. “Various circumstances kept me on shore. However, now we can talk. Please, have a seat.”

Griffin did so, thinking,
Is he completely insane? It’s one thing for me to try and pretend, but him? He kidnapped me! The last time I saw him, he was gloating about how he would arrange for Adara and Terrell to believe I’d been drowned. Surely …

The Old One was pouring them both tea from a pot that had been brought in by a servant. Griffin realized that thus far, other than the haggard woman who had carried in his breakfast that first morning, all the staff he’d seen here had been male. He wondered why, his skin crawling as he thought of a possible answer.

“Julyan and Dierks have both mentioned to you that I have goals above and beyond simply examining the relics the seegnur left behind them,” the Old One was beginning when a small motion from Griffin caused him to interrupt himself. “Yes? You have a question?”

“I do. I’ve been careful not to mention my origin. Neither Julyan or Dierks have said anything that give me a clear idea how much they know. Could you tell me what I should say?”

The Old One nodded approvingly. “Very prudent. I have told them a variation of the biography that you yourself created. You were raised by isolationists who came across some interesting relics. As such, you have insights into the seegnur that are quite unusual. They are to consider you an expert and be patient with your curious blind spots regarding life as we know it.”

“And they are satisfied with this?”

“I am satisfied with it,” the Old One said, his tone cold. “They know that is what matters. If they choose to think other thoughts in private, that is their choice. As for you … I strongly suggest you do not state otherwise. Your claim might not be believed. Even if it was, it would not necessarily make you friends.”

Thinking of Dierks and his curiously resentful attitude toward the long-ago seegnur, Griffin thought he understood.

“Very good, sir. Thank you for clarifying that matter. Now, you were about to tell me something of your long-term goals. I assure you, I am very eager to learn more.”

The Old One Who Is Young steepled his fingers and looked thoughtfully off at something only he could see. His pale grey eyes seemed to light from within.

“I am very old. Once I realized that short of accident I was likely to continue living with mind and body unimpaired by age, I will admit, I wondered why. I also wondered if there were any others who shared my peculiar gift. Finding others like me was the first spur that sent me on my wanderings.

“In that quest, I was doomed to disappointment. Rumor after rumor I followed, but at the end of the trail either the traces faded or I found some man or woman—perhaps of great years, but lacking my singular vitality. Failing to find any like myself, I also failed to find a clear answer to the ‘why’ of my gift.

“The recognized adaptations—such as the ability to breathe underwater or to see in the dark—were clearly useful in certain environments and professions. What use was there in long life and abiding health, especially since, to my great disappointment, I appeared to be unable to have children who might share some portion of my gift? Clearly I was not meant to found a dynasty in the literal sense—a dynasty that could bring the order that vanished with the slaughter of the seegnur. What then was I to do?

“For a time I studied with the loremasters, absorbing all I could of what had come before us. Eventually, I concluded that my life’s mission would be to see if I could reawaken the glorious technological devices that had been common in the days before the slaughter of the seegnur, even if most had not known they existed.”

Griffin listened, careful not to so much as shift in his chair lest he distract the Old One from his tale. He had the impression that the Old One had almost forgotten his presence.

“Eventually, I decided that the key must be in the seegnur nature itself. The lore contained many indications that the people of Artemis had been created by the seegnur in their own image. I came to believe that just as the smallest terrier carries within it the seeds of the wolf, so the people of Artemis carried within them the seeds of the seegnur.

“There were hints here and there that the technology of the seegnur was not like our own machinery—and that the difference was more than one of sophistication. I came to believe that at least some of the seegnur’s technology was operated by an interweaving of the seegnur and the machine.”

The pale eyes fastened on Griffin as if looking for confirmation.

Griffin nodded. “Yes. We have similar tales—most agree that the seegnur could interface the living and the created. However, no one has ever succeeded in figuring out how this was done.”

The Old One’s lips moved in what must be called a smile, but was an expression that indicated his own sense of superiority. “You told me that the wars that destroyed the great empire also destroyed the planets they had most treasured, as well as the most sophisticated of their technology.”

“That is true. By the time the Old Empire fell, fear that someone would inherit their power and so come to dominate in turn led to both places and people being destroyed.”

“Tell me honestly, Griffin, do you consider yourself of the same stock as the seegnur of old?”

Griffin hesitated, tempted for a moment to make that very claim. However, then he might be asked to prove it—or worse, he could threaten the Old One’s conceit. He decided to walk a narrow line.

“Not purebred, no. There are many indications that the rulers of the empire and their most chosen associates were different from those over whom they ruled. However, there are ample indications that we shared common stock. The ruling class regularly intermarried with their subjects and children came from those unions.”

Griffin thought the Old One might be threatened by the mention of children, since he himself was sterile but, if he was, he did not show it.

He only nodded. “That seems a fair assessment. The lore contains scattered references that on Artemis the seegnur sought to create something unique for themselves. Have you been told our creation story?”

“Yes. Adara told it to me.”

“Did she tell you how initially Artemis was created without human residents, how later they were added, then later still the adaptations were worked into small portion of the population?”

Griffin nodded.

“It is my belief that the adaptations were rooted in the same abilities that the seegnur used to operate their most sophisticated technologies—and that those technologies, in turn, were used to create the underlying structure of Artemis because, only then, could they be hidden so completely from sight that the illusion of an unspoiled world could be maintained.”

“I see. And?”

“Therefore, just as with enough patience and time one could breed back to a wolf from a domestic dog, so I believe that it would be possible to breed back to the abilities that enabled the seegnur to operate their most sophisticated machinery.”

Griffin blinked, straightening in his chair. The idea was insane, yet … He remembered the tales he had read of how the seegnur held their vast empire together because they alone possessed the secret of ships that could cover vast distances in the blink of an eye. How early in the war—before a heroic strike on the part of the rebels destroyed some of the most crucial planets in the seegnur’s structure—the seegnur had defeated far vaster hosts by apparently defying the accepted laws of physics. There were other such stories, most dismissed by scholars as the victors presenting the odds against them as much higher than they had been in order to justify the level of destruction they had used.

But what if the stories had been true?

He spoke, his voice hoarse. “But not only were the seegnur slaughtered, your lore speaks of the death of machines. Even if you could breed back to those who could operate the seegnur’s old technology, nothing will function.”

The Old One’s expression showed satisfaction. “Will it? I wonder. There are indications that those who led the slaughter of the seegnur expected to return to Artemis. What if the machines were not so much ‘killed’ as put to sleep?”

Griffin thought of the landing facility, sealed but its basic works left in order, of this repair facility. He remembered tales of how the seegnur had often built where water would hide their constructions from casual view.

He inclined his head, encouraging the Old One to continue. Griffin suspected that while the Old One might have shared some of his speculations with trusted associates, he was telling Griffin far more because Griffin could understand without being hampered by superstition.

“I had hoped,” the Old One said, “that if I managed to breed back to someone with abilities close to those of the original seegnur, that one would be able to serve as a key. Thus far, I will admit, I have not been successful. I am hampered by not knowing precisely what qualities the seegnur valued. Yet, I will tell you this. Even when an adaptation appears to be purely physical—as with Adara’s night vision—there is a mental component. I have tested with others who share that talent. Even when they are in darkness so complete that a cat or other such creature blunders around as if blind, these eventually begin to cope. I believe there is a mental enhancement—an ability to see with the eyes of the mind as well as those of the body—that aids them. Might not these eyes of the mind have been part of what was used to guide the seegnur’s ships so that they could see paths through the void to which others were blind?”

“It might have been so,” Griffin slowly agreed. He thought of Ring, who lived in perpetual confusion because he could not tell which future he was living in. Surely the Old One had bred for that—perhaps a variation on the superb natural sense of direction he had heard Terrell and Adara mention that some hunters and factotum possessed.

He realized that there was a question he must ask. “Wait! I was so fascinated by your ambitious plans, for the goal you have set yourself, that I may have misunderstood you. Did you say you have already begun this program?”

“Yes. Some generations ago. At first I attempted to recruit from among the adapted that I knew—and I knew a great many, for I had often sought them out in my wanderings. They in turn, especially if they came from areas where the adapted are less than welcome, were glad to befriend one who admired them.

“Later, I realized that I was up against human nature. Sometimes a woman would promise me a child to raise—a child fathered by a man I had suggested to her as having a complementary talent. When the child was born, she would decide she could not part from it. Also, I was coming to realize that it might take me generations to breed for the qualities I needed.”

Griffin swallowed his repulsion and said as matter-of-factly as he could, “As it would take generations to breed even a fighting dog, already close to a wolf in appearance, back to its wolfish stock.”

“Precisely! Therefore, I needed more control. I sought among those of the adapted who had found themselves shunned. I offered them a home and a purpose, the promise that they and their children would never go without shelter or food, that they would live within a community where they would be accepted.”

He went on for some time in this vein. Griffin listened intently. Never once was kidnapping mentioned, never once forced coupling. Griffin found himself wondering if Winnie had been a rebel within a mostly contented community, if her tale had been distorted. Had Lynn’s daughter actually been kidnapped? Perhaps Mabel had been recruited and later regretted her choice …

The Old One was drawing his account to a close. “Yet, I was handicapped. Ideally, I would have set up my community of the adapted in some isolated area, where they could flourish free from the stigma attached to them. However, I did not wish to leave my researches into the physical technologies of the seegnur. These islands—thought of as ‘haunted’ by the good but credulous people of the town—were the perfect solution. The seegnur had sculpted the surrounding area so that the islands could not be approached by any water craft, large or small. I, however, had found the tunnel that led here. The door had been closed but not locked. Eventually I chanced on the means of opening it.”

“As if it was meant to be,” Griffin said softly. He wondered again how Winnie’s tale fit into this. Adara claimed to have found the location of the original area where the Old One had kept his captives. Wouldn’t the islands have been a better choice all along? Someone was not telling the whole truth and he would bet that someone was not Adara the Huntress.

“Now,” the Old One said, his grey eyes shining as he turned his thoughts to the present, “once again I receive an omen that I am on the right course, that I am doing what was meant to happen. You land here on Artemis, not far from where one of my most devoted followers lives. Soon after your landing, for the first time since the death of machines, a machine awakens. I believe the time has come for Artemis to waken from the sleep she has slept these five hundred years.”