Artemis Invaded (8 page)

“Is Artemis here now?” Griffin asked, realizing he was looking side to side like an idiot.

“No,” Adara replied. “I think we wore her out, although that's another concept that boggles the mind. I'm guessing she's off resting and wondering if she has any other blind spots.”

“Now that you've introduced her to the idea of mapping,” Terrell asked, “won't she be able to figure out where the blind spots are by checking where the edges of her web don't meet up?”

Adara shook her head. “No. It doesn't work that way. I think the reason I chose blindness to describe what she's going through is that she is truly blind to these places. They don't exist for her, the way a blind person can't comprehend color. A deaf person might feel the vibrations of a sound, but there's no way a blind person can know what color something is. Color isn't there. These places aren't there.”

“Not there?”

Adara nodded. “Artemis can sense the edges of bodies of water, even those as big as oceans, although, at this point, I gather that she can't extend her ability to sense over water itself.”

“So bodies of water are defined for Artemis, like negative space defines the shape of a sculpture,” Griffin said, then clarified when Adara looked confused. “Negative space are those holes that are as important as what's there. But the blind spots aren't even outlined. I can see why she found that creepy.”

“Maybe,” Terrell offered, “she'll be able to see this place in time. We still don't know precisely what awakened her. We've all been assuming that the awakening was complete. Perhaps there are gaps, places where those nanobots Griffin told us about linger more strongly.”

“That's possible,” Griffin agreed. “But I can't forget that Maiden's Tear was a forbidden zone. We'd assumed this meant restricted to the human inhabitants, but what if it was restricted even from Artemis? That's an amazing thought.”

“So, have you changed your mind about exploring here?” Adara asked. “Perhaps we would do better to go back to Spirit Bay. Some of the furor will have died down. If we operate from Mender's Isle, most people won't even guess we're there.”

Griffin shook his head. “I probably should be ashamed to admit it, but rather than scaring me off, what we've learned makes me more eager to explore. It's like that one door in the Sanctum, the one that was so well hidden we nearly didn't find it and, once we did, we never could figure out how to open it.”

Terrell chuckled. “Not that repeated failure kept you from trying.”

“Well,” Adara said, rising from beside the fire and stretching in a manner Griffin found very distracting, “I'll leave searching to the two of you. I need some sleep. Sand Shadow says she will combine keeping watch on the horses and Sam the Mule while getting some rest herself. Look for us in time for dinner.”

She waved vaguely and a moment later was climbing gracefully back up into the branches of her chosen tree. Griffin watched until she vanished into the shadows. He discovered Terrell watching too, and they shared an uneasy laugh.

“First,” Terrell said, “no searching for anything until camp is secured. Sand Shadow's scent will keep most problems away, but neither bears nor ants respect pumas. After we've cleared up, where do you want to start?”

“That little building is the obvious place,” Griffin said, “and for that reason I'm tempted to ignore it. Why create a facility so secret that you hide it even from your planetary intelligence, then mark it with a structure? Still, we can't overlook it, so we might as well start by checking it over.”

“Sounds good,” Terrell said. He extended the frying pan to Griffin. “Scrape the grease out into that clay pot. It will be good for cooking mush to go with dinner. Then take the pan to the stream. The sand's just right for scrubbing.”

Griffin followed orders, thinking how much his life had changed. He drew in a breath of mountain air so fresh that he could almost believe he was the first person ever to suck it into his lungs. The food had been good, too. He'd never been lazy, but life here on Artemis demanded constant labor.

As he glanced between his friend and the sleeping figure in the tall tree, he found himself wondering,
I keep saying I need to get off this planet and I suppose I do. I hate being trapped, if nothing else. I miss hot water on demand, sleeping without worry that rain will soak me or a snake will crawl into my bedroll. I miss fast travel and faster communication. I miss having a library in the palm of my hand but, greasy pots, latrine duty, and all … Really, life here isn't bad at all.

Interlude: Soundless Song

Hyphal strings play life's song

I feel them grow

      But I am deaf

 

4

Searching

“They're up at Maiden's Tear all right,” Julyan reported to the Old One some days after they'd settled into the little cottage. “They're scouting, but I don't think they've found much of interest.”

“Are you sure the ‘scouting' you've seen isn't meant to deceive any watchers?”

Julyan shook his head. “I'd bet my left testicle I'm right. These binoculars you gave me are the best I've ever used. I've been spying from a neighboring peak and I feel as if I'm right next to them. First, they spent a couple days checking over that little white building. I even saw Adara up on the roof. Looked as if she was checking the seams with the blade of her knife. Then they examined every rock and tree within about twenty feet of the building. Now they're hiking the banks of the lake. It's a big lake, so they've been doing that in stages.”

“Sounds as if they're fairly confident they're not being observed.”

Julyan nodded. “They're not exactly drawing attention to themselves. Adara was up on that roof in the late evening, when any shepherd—not that there are any near—would be gathering in the flocks. Darkness isn't the problem for her it would be for most people.”

“How about Terrell and Griffin?”

“They're staying under cover whenever possible, but I can usually find them by noticing how the animals—especially the birds—are reacting. If I can't figure out where someone is—and that's mostly Adara—I figure she's sleeping. Even when I knew her years ago, she was given to sleeping during the day.”

“I have often wondered,” the Old One mused, “how many of the behaviors adopted by the adapted are innate and how many are adopted because of the affiliation they feel with aspects of their adaptation? Or, I suppose, similar abilities could lead to similar behaviors. Those of us who cannot see in the dark must be out and about when there is light.”

Such idle speculation was typical of the Old One, but Julyan couldn't help but think how odd it was coming from him in his current guise, especially since, even as he spoke, he was carefully stroking a line of smoky purple shadow over his eyelids.

“I don't suppose we'll ever know, sir,” Julyan said.

The Old One's smile was thin. “Oh, when you reach my age, you learn to never say never. Opportunities for research tend to arise, especially if you lay the groundwork in advance.”

His tone was cool and clinical. Despite the warmth of the summer sun beating down, Julyan realized he was shivering.

*   *   *

Finding the entry into the seegnur's facility proved far more difficult than anyone had anticipated. Indeed, if it had not been for Artemis's curious blind spot, they might have decided that they had been wrong about why the seegnur had forbidden access to Maiden's Tear.

They had begun by searching the small white building Griffin said reminded him of a “temple”—and then had to explain what a temple was, since the people of Artemis did not construct such buildings. Myriad religions had evolved over time, some worshipping the seegnur as creators, some revering speculative beings who had created the seegnur, a few very odd ones denying the historical facts entirely. However, whichever form the religion took, temples were not included, for they were not part of the lore.

The temple was made from a glistening white marble impregnated with tiny flecks of gold. Other than the peaked roof, which served well enough for shedding snow in winter, the structure was not constructed with the mountain climate in mind. One side was completely open except for a few elaborately carved pillars. The foundation was high enough that three steps led up to the entry—this despite the fact that the entire building was about the size of a one-room cottage. Although the exterior was unornamented—other than the undeniable beauty of the stone—the interior was covered with elaborate bas-relief carvings, mostly depicting naked young men on horseback involved in some sort of race or game.

Over several days, Griffin and Terrell took turns studying the carvings, but found nothing significant. Adara examined the structure one evening, wondering if her night-adapted vision might see something the men had missed. However, although she poked and prodded, even going so far as to climb onto the roof to see if anything was hidden there, she found no indication of what purpose the structure served.

The next logical place to search was the lake, for the seegnur often hid their technological facilities beneath the water, thus maintaining the illusion that Artemis was a pristine planet.

Griffin and Terrell spent several days hiking the lakeshore, first one direction, then the next, checking for anything that might be a hidden entrance to a facility. Among the loot they'd taken from the bandits was a collapsible canoe with an oiled hide cover and a frame of bent wood. The craft was too small for Sand Shadow to ride along with Adara, so Adara paddled out alone to see if she could glimpse any structures through the cold, clear depths. Adara also prowled the meadow surrounding the temple, spiraling out in increasingly large circles that assured she would not miss even the smallest indication of the seegnur's long-ago presence. In that way, she made their first significant find.

“Come with me,” she said, when Griffin and Terrell limped into camp one evening, “before it gets too dark.”

“Woman,” Terrell said with mock severity, “this time of year it will be hours before full darkness falls. I want to get my boots off, have a long draft of the cold tea we set to steep last night, then eat whatever it is Sand Shadow is turning on that spit over the fire. Even if you've found the door into whatever sanctum the seegnur left, I don't care. It's waited this long. It can wait a few more hours.”

“Duck,” Adara said. “Sand Shadow is cooking duck. There are several. And are you sure you can pass my discovery by so easily? Does this awaken your dulled curiosity, factotum?”

She held out her hand, upon which rested an object about the size of her palm. The artifact was rectangular, but with softly rounded corners. It was made from one of the strange synthetic materials sometimes found where the seegnur's workings were exposed, something so strong that even after five hundred years of exposure in a mountain meadow, the lovely blue-grey surface held its polish with barely a scratch.

Griffin, who looked as tired as Terrell claimed to be, immediately perked up. “Let me see it! Where did you find it? Are there more?”

Adara chuckled softly and dropped the thing back into her pocket. “I want you to see where I found it. I can show you now or after duck and tea, as Terrell requests.”

“Terrell withdraws his request,” Terrell responded. “Show us!”

Pleased, Adara led them to where a very small heap of seegnur artifacts rested amid the meadow grass. Griffin hunkered down, carefully turning over each bit—no matter how insignificant—then returning it precisely where it had been before.

“These are the remnants of fasteners—what the seegnur used instead of buttons or laces,” he said. “I've seen the like elsewhere. This looks like a belt buckle. This odd twisty thing might have been part of something larger. This is a comm bracelet—similar patterns are still used in the Kyley system. I wonder if this ring was ornamental or if it had another purpose? Where did you find that thing you showed us?”

“Over here.” Adara pointed to an impression in the grass. She handed it to him.

“Part of a clasp,” Griffin said, “possibly meant to hold items on a belt.”

Adara smiled. “I found two other locations like this. Would you see, seegnur?”

“Definitely!” Griffin leapt to his feet. Terrell sighed in mock exasperation, but his blue eyes were shining with excitement.

Adara led the way to the other locations. Each held a scattering of seegnur artifacts, none very functional, but many quite fascinating. Each scatter looked as if it had been in place for quite a long while.

When darkness forced their retreat, Griffin insisted that they leave everything in place. “We'll sketch, then excavate first thing in the morning.”

Adara had her own thoughts about what her finds might be, but she wanted to hear Griffin's speculation first. After all, he had spent much of his life examining things the seegnur had left behind.

“What do you think I found?” she asked as she carved one of the ducks.

“I think,” Griffin said, shredding the greens for the salad into such tiny pieces that Terrell removed them from beneath his hands before they were rendered inedible, “those are what's left of the bodies of three of the people who died here. They didn't necessarily die in those specific places—scavengers could have dragged the bodies—but that is where they came to rest.”

“The lore says,” Terrell reminded, neatly chopping wild carrot and onion, then adding it to the salad bowl, “that residents of Crystalaire buried the dead seegnur.”

“They might not have found these bodies,” Griffin countered. “I doubt they knew how many seegnur had fled here. Given that they were violating the prohibitions by coming here—and that not long before this area had been a battlefield—I doubt that they spent much time searching for the dead.”