Mosaic (17 page)

Harry scanned everything and was about to give up when the

tiniest blip registered on his tricorder. What was it? He

moved in the direction he had picked up the reading, and

approached what seemed to be a dead end to the tunnel.

They'd run into these over and over again, and never did

they show any distinguishing mark. Nor did this one, he

determined after a thorough search.

He was ready to turn back, when his eye flickered to

something high on the wall perpendicular to the dead end.

It's a wonder he spotted it; it called no attention to

itself and appeared only as a slight crack in the stone.

But it was the shape that caught Harry's eye: it was

exactly like the cobalt blue spires he had followed on the

surface, which pointed the way from grave site to grave

site.

"Kes, look at this." She moved to him and stared upward.

"It's like the spires we saw up above."

He stretched out his arm and extended his hand so his

finger could reach the small etched design. He touched it,

applying only slight pressure. There was a sense of

movement, and then a rush of chill air filled the corridor.

They turned, shining their beacons, to discover that a

panel had opened in the side wall. A set of stone stairs

led downward into darkness, and a cool, moist breeze wafted

upward. Curiously, Harry felt no apprehension. The dark

stairway seemed inviting.

He turned to Kes and saw that she was smiling, and then

they began, without a word or a question, to descend.

'12

THEY HAD BEEN SWIMMING UNDERWATER FOR

THREE QUARTERS of an hour, and things were getting worse

all the time. In spite of the fact that he knew kicking up

silt would greatly hinder their vision, Cheb seemed to keep

bumping into outcroppings, or dropping a foot to the floor

of the channel. A cloud of silt erupted from each of these

intrusions, blocking Kathryn's vision and threatening to

clog her breathing gilt. One small dark part of her mind

wondered if he was doing it on purpose. Cheb had definitely

not recovered from the devastating news that his admission

to Starfleet Academy had been rejected. She had been

accepted, along with their friends Blake and Anna, and a

number of others from the Institute. But Cheb, although

winning acceptance at any number of prestigious colleges

and universities, didn't make the cut at the Academy. He

had been stunned, then angry, then frighteningly withdrawn.

Kathryn had tried to comfort him, but he was disconsolate,

and frequently lashed out at whoever was in range. "It's

because I got a disciplinary reprimand after we went to

that castle last winter. It never would've happened if

you'd left with the rest of us." "Cheb, we were both

reprimanded for that incident. Not just you." "But you

became some kind of heroine because you found that old

woman." "She was sick and confused. She needed help. I

helped her.

That's all." "So you came out of it a saint, and I took all

the blame."

Kathryn had stopped talking at that point. There was no

point in reasoning with him when he was so upset; he could

color anything with his revisionist view of the past. It

was true Mrs. Klamer's family had been deeply grateful to

her for finding their aged grandmother. The old woman,

failing mentally and fascinated for years by tales of the

Magruder Mansion, had somehow managed to leave her family

home in Kentucky, travel hundreds of miles to southern

Ohio, and take up a brief residence in the ancient castle,

fantasizing that she was Mary Dugan Magruder. Kathryn's

intervention prevented a possible tragedy, and the Klamer

family was copious in its praise of her. But it was true

the Institute had disciplined her, along with Cheb, for the

unauthorized use of the transporter.

She didn't think the incident had anything to do with his

rejection from the Academy; privately, she suspected he had

been too arrogant in his interview, but she didn't feel

like saying that to him.

Now, she had begun to wonder if their cave-diving trip was

a good idea. They'd had it planned for monthsKathryn had

been working on it since she was fourteen 127

and it didn't seem right to cancel it just because Cheb

was disappointed. In fact, she hoped the adventure would

take the edge off his frustration and leave him more

hopeful about his future.

But it didn't seem to be working that way. Cheb had been

terse and short-tempered ever since they left Earth on the

shuttle for Mars. Her father had arranged the trip as a

graduation present; they would stay in Starfleet quarters

and enjoy the privileges of the Officer's Club. Of course,

her father didn't know about their plans to go cave-diving.

And there was no need for him to. She and Cheb would

explore the quarry caves for a few days, camping

underground, and return to Earth within the allotted time.

But the trek she had looked forward to for so long, with

such anticipation, was being soured by Cheb's depression.

Like kicking up silt: she knew he could be more careful,

but he wasn't, he was making it less pleasant for her so

she wouldn't enjoy the experience any more than he. They

had been swimming through a long, tubular chamber filled

with stalactites and stalagmites that jutted from above and

below and threatened to snag them as they were pulled along

by their hydromagnetic drives. Cheb was unspooling the

guideline as he went, and she periodically fastened it to

an outcropping. They would need this line to direct them

back when they returned.

When the water stayed clear, Kathryn could see the

formations in the light of her aquadyne torch, a mysterious

and elegant arrangement of spires, like an underwater city

of towers and turrets. It was a mesmerizing sight, and she

imagined the millennia it had taken to form those spires,

millimeter by millimeter, as dissolved calcium was slowly

released by evaporating water, forming deposits that

hardened and grew to astonishing proportions.

She realized they might be the first living creatures to

have seen these formations.

This was what she had come for-for the ineffable thrill of

seeing what hadn't been seen, of knowing what hadn't been

known. She was inexorably drawn to the unexplored,

fascinated by the unfamiliar. She wanted to savor the

excitement of discovery, to revel in the anticipation of

turning the next corner and finding something marvelous and

unique. She didn't particularly want to nursemaid Cheb

Packer's hurt feelings. Ahead of her, the water cleared,

Cheb rose abruptly, and she realized he was surfacing.

After nearly an hour, they had found an air pocket. And

what an air pocket it was.

As her head broke the surface of the water, Kathryn's light

shone into a massive, cavernous room as big as several

soccer fields. The ceiling rose fifty meters over their

heads, and dripped with stalactites in wondrous, majestic

patterns.

It was like surfacing into the interior of a massive

cathedral.

Cheb had swum to a rocky "beach" and crawled ashore; she

followed him, removing her gill breather. "This is

incredible," she said, and her voice echoed strangely in

the hollow stillness.

"We can set up a camp here. There's enough level ground."

Kathryn unstrapped the waterproof pack from her back and

dropped it to the ground. In it were concentrated food

packs, dry clothing, and thermal blankets. Immediately, she

began to roam, examining the stalactites that hung from the

ceiling, still forming, still dripping with water, each

drop leaving a minute quantity of calcium which would

harden and lithify, gradually growing the inverted steeple

of mineral deposits longer and longer.

"Isn't it amazing, Cheb? They're still forming.

We're seeing a process that's been going on for millions of

years."

He shrugged. "It happens the same way on Earth."

"But we're not on Earth. We're on Mars.

And we may be the first people ever to see these caves, to

see these stalactites form."

"Who has the oatmeal? Is that in your pack or mine?" She

stared at him. Was he going to be like this the whole time?

She took a deep breath, determined not to let him ruin the

trip. "I think it's in yours."

He grunted and bent over his pack, searching through it,

tossing items this way and that. Sloppy, she thought. He'll

be sorry when he has to repack.

She wandered around the huge chamber, studying the

formations, ruminating on the natural processes that had

been interrupted on Mars by its long freeze, and which now

were proceeding once more, the millennia-long hiatus

nothing more than a tiny blip in the evolution of the

planet. She heard Cheb continue to paw through the pack,

grumbling and muttering under his breath, and she smiled to

herself. He was going to make himself as miserable as

possible. He would make sure he-The speck of white almost

went unnoticed. Her head lamp swept by it and her brain

must have registered it unconsciously because she wasn't

aware of having seen anything. And yet something made her

turn back and inspect the stratified wall again.

And there it was: less than two centimeters long, an

ovalshaped, striped ribbon, bisected by a dark line that

ran lengthwise. The fossilized remains of an animal,

embedded in this cave wall for eons. "Cheb! Come here!" Her

voice rang with excitement but was dampened in the heavy

cave air.

"What?" He had stopped rummaging through his pack, but

made no move to join her.

"Look what I've found!" She couldn't believe his

stubbornness. If he'd gotten this excited about something,

she'd have been there in a second. But he stared at her,

looked around, looked back, and finally began shuffling in

her direction. The dark lock of hair fell over his

forehead-the same tendril she had once found so endearing-and she thought it gave him a scruffy look, unkempt and

messy.

She located the fossil with her headlamp and pointed to

it. "See? The fossil?"

He peered at it. "So?"

"That line there, the one that runs the length of it . .

. I think that's a spinal rod. I think this is a chordate."

He looked skeptical. "How could a chordate have developed

on Mars?" "I don't know. But there it is."

"You're guessing it's a chordate. You don't know for

sure."

"I did a senior honors thesis on vertebrate anatomy. I

studied chordates then.

This looks just like some of the oldest ancestors of the

vertebrate branch of animals on Earth. The ancestors of

man."

"Could you help me find the oatmeal now?"

Fury welled in her. He had to be doing this on purpose.

Finding evidence of chordates on Mars was completely

unexpected, a remarkable discovery. It would require a

reexamination of all the planet's evolutionary history.

This was possibly a major scientific breakthrough and all

Cheb could think of was his stomach.

"No, I could not help you find the oatmeal. If you packed

it, it's there. If you didn't, it isn't. I'm going to look

for more fossils."

He took on an aggrieved, wounded look, instantly the

victim. "What's gotten into you? I don't deserve to be

barked at like that."

"Yes, you do. You've been in a sour mood for weeks. Isn't

it time you at least made an effort to get over it?"

His eyes narrowed at her retort. "Thanks for your terrific

compassion. For such exquisite sensitivity to my feelings.

It's really great to realize your best friend doesn't give

a damn about you."

She felt as though she'd been impaled by a spear. Of

course he was still hurt and disappointed.

She shouldn't have snapped at him like that; there were

better ways to handle the situation. When would she ever

learn to control her tongue?

"I'm sorry, Cheb. I just didn't understand why you

wouldn't be excited by my finding that fossil."

He turned and moved back toward their packs.

"Is this what the week's going to be like? You jumping all

over me like some Circassian hellcat every time I open my

mouth?"

"That's not fair, I didn't-was "I can't think of anything

worse . . . being trapped underground with someone who

delights in pointing out all one's defects."

"Cheb, what are you saying? I haven't done that-was "Do

you think I haven't noticed the past few weeks? How cold

you've been? How withdrawn?"

"Me... ?"

"Are you saying you aren't aware of how you've been?"

Kathryn felt a familiar confusion returning. They had been

through this before. Cheb had the maddening ability to turn

things around one hundred and eighty degrees, to twist

anything she said, drawing on just enough truth to make her

begin doubting herself. She wasn't going to let it happen

this time.