“Yes, I must be
Ms. Kedros
. Pleased to meet
you in person, Mr. Sewick.” She tried to sound cheery, which was difficult because his
handshake caused twinges of pain in her ribs. She stepped back before any more hands were
offered. Everyone else took her cue and nodded their heads during greetings.
Four people met her when the elevator reached the moon surface. Mr.
Sewick was the prime Autonomist contractor. She next greeted Mr. Wescott and Mr. Barone, the
prime Terran and Minoan contractors, respectively. Barone wasn’t Minoan, of course, but a
native of Hellas Prime. He represented Hellas Nautikos, a company primarily owned by Minoan
interests, meaning that Minoan capital comprised more than fifty percent of their
assets.
The fourth person seemed vaguely familiar to Ariane: a dark-skinned,
dark-eyed woman in an AFCAW green uniform, loaded down with bright gold epaulets and red trim.
She had gray slivers in her short black hair and experience in her hard face, so Ariane almost
expected the colonel rank on her shoulders. Her name tag read DOKOS.
“This is my ball and chain, otherwise known as my military adviser,
Colonel Dokos.” Sewick’s smile was oily and he didn’t meet Ariane’s eyes, letting his gaze
slide elsewhere. “I understand you’re AFCAW also, Ms. Kedros.”
“
Reserve
Armed Forces, rank of major, but
I’m not on active-duty orders,” Ariane answered automatically as she nodded to Dokos. “Pleased
to meet you, ma’am.”
“Likewise.” Colonel Dokos met her gaze squarely, taking a moment to
study her face. “Have you had an accident, Ms. Kedros?”
Her ribs had grabbed her attention; she’d forgotten about the more
visible effects of the beating.
No wonder nobody wants to look me in the
face
. Luckily, she healed quickly and the bruises were turning green and yellow, letting
her fudge the time of the incident.
“During the burn, a latch failed on a locker.” Ariane kept her voice
casual. “I slammed into the door when I tried to close it without gravity. My fault.”
“Looks more like the results of a brawl,” Dokos said bluntly, her eyes
narrowing. “Are you sure we haven’t met before, perhaps when you were regular?”
Oh, Great Bull-shit
. Now she remembered when
she’d met Dokos, or rather, when
Lieutenant Karen Ahrilan Argyris
had a check ride with
Major Dokos
from Wing Evaluation. The ride
started off badly, considering that Major Dokos had no sense of humor and was annoyed when
Lieutenant Argyris showed up late, sporting a broken nose from a bar brawl. Her nose was
different now, but who could tell under the puffy bruising? She had to have faith in the false
records and the obscuring power of the rejuv treatments. If Argyris were still alive, she’d
look much older than Reserve Major Kedros.
I’m Ariane Kedros
, she told herself firmly.
I’m a commercial pilot, with a reserve commission of major
.
“Sorry, Colonel. I don’t think so.” She raised her eyebrows. “Unless you
were stationed at Pelagos Naga Maintenance in ’ninety-seven, or—” Blah, blah, blah. Everyone in
the military could rattle off their assignments and Ariane took the opportunity to bore the
civilians with her list.
Dokos shook her head, luckily never intersecting with Ariane’s false
career, which was as obscure and lackluster as Owen Edones could design. Her reserve
assignments for the Directorate were classified, of course, and couldn’t be mentioned.
“Ms. Kedros, I want to express our thanks for being included in this
exploration.” Wescott’s voice was warm and surprisingly genuine. “We know that you didn’t have
to lease claims to Terran-owned corporations—”
“Making our lives a living hell,” Sewick said.
“Those of us who sub to Boeing-Zhou-Kunal, at least, are grateful for
Aether Exploration’s input and help.” Wescott glanced sideways, but he didn’t acknowledge
Sewick’s interjection. “Other claim owners might leave us at the mercy of the Consortium’s
S-triple-ECB.”
Sewick muttered something under his breath that sounded like “damn
flunkies,” a reference to SEEECB personnel.
“You’re welcome,” Ariane said to Wescott. She looked for signs that he
was practicing
somaural
projection and saw none. He fit the average
ideal that Terrans strived for: medium build, skin that couldn’t qualify as either light or
dark, and regular features. Like all Terrans, his fashion sense was questionable, but he seemed
sincere. He dressed in a conservative jumpsuit with a tailored jacket made from tweeds of muddy
colors that blended into nothingness.
Unfortunately, she didn’t
want
to like
Wescott. She’d spent most of her travel time in the elevator thinking up ways to either fire
the Terran contractors or make their lives so miserable they’d quit—all because Parmet didn’t
keep up his end of their double-blackmail bargain. Wescott didn’t know anything about her
background, so why should he and his employees suffer because Parmet had spilled Ariane’s
secrets to his psychotic wife?
Wescott’s ignorance became even more obvious with his next words. “Our
adviser, Ms. Guillotte, sends her regrets. She’s got a VIP coming in for a tour. She said that
you and she are already acquainted.”
“Oh, yes, Maria and I have already met.” Ariane smiled.
Maria kidnapped me and then dumped me, unconscious, in an addict commons—yes, we’ve
met.
Her head felt strange, but whether it was from the beating or this surreal
situation, she didn’t know.
“We tried to get the best experts we could find,” Wescott added.“We
hired Dr. Myrna Fox Lowry, one of the foremost astrophysicists on Mars, to be part of our
on-site staff.”
“She’s still quite young—
we’ve
got the
established cos mologist, Mr. Novak.” Sewick wasn’t about to be outdone by the Terrans.
“Whom you hired away from one of our subs.” Barone raised his deep voice
for the first time.
“Better benefits always win out,” Sewick replied in a satisfied tone as
he stared back at Barone, but Ariane felt no hostility between the men. The world of research
and development, whether for government, military, or civilian contracts, was small and the
players well-known. Workers were itinerant, moving from contractor to contractor, hoping their
scientific specialty would be in demand on the next contract.
“Gentlemen, please.” Colonel Dokos’s cool tone grabbed everyone’s
attention. “Ms. Kedros brought us a new reporting matrix that should help. I hope the matrix is
approved?”
“Yes, we have the board’s approval, although it wasn’t easy to get them
to agree to the shortcuts,” Ariane said.
The CAW SEEECB flunkies, as they were not so affectionately called,
tracked leases and contracts between all the organizations. The companies doing the actual work
on the site, whether mining or exploring, were usually subcontractors to a contractor of the
lessee. That meant reports went through at least two layers of indirection and obscuration
before they even flowed out of G-145. Out of sheer frustration, the SEEECB demanded that Aether
Exploration (aka Matt) put together a workable reporting matrix for the organizations that
operated and leased Matt’s claims.
“Good, we’ll adjourn to our best conference room and go over the matrix.
Everybody’s here, right?” Wescott hesitated and exchanged glances with the other prime
contractors.
“What?” Ariane asked. What were they hiding?
Sewick and Wescott looked subdued; Barone looked down at his boots.
Dokos folded her arms and her face took on a not-my-business expression.
Sewick was the one who eventually answered. “We figured that if all of
us had to haul around our ball—our advisers, per se, then so should Barone.”
“What?” She raised her eyebrows. Barone’s “ball and chain” was
Minoan
.
“I’ve requested, through my superiors, a Minoan adviser,” Barone said.
“I was told that one might be sent to assist us.”
What?
Rather than uttering another inane
question, Ariane shut her mouth. Of everyone here, she might be the only one who had experience
“negotiating” with Minoans.
Do we really want them here?
“We’re stymied; the symbols that we’ve found in these ruins are beyond
us. It’s impossible to interpret completely alien symbology without a common reference like the
Ro setta Stone.” Barone used measured tones, sounding like a man who picked his words
carefully, giving weight to every syllable.
“And you think the Minoans might have a common reference? They might
know something about these Builders?” Ariane followed the convention of using “Builders” for
the inhabitants of this moon, because “aliens” was no longer specific enough.
Barone nodded.
“My biggest concern is whether you’re going to give them access to the
artifact
,” she said.
“They haven’t asked for reports on the artifact. I doubt they feel
threatened. Their monopoly on buoy production is safe,” Barone said.
“What do the other contractors think about a Minoan adviser?” She
included Sewick and Wescott with a wave of her hand. “For instance, the subs investigating the
artifact are mostly Autonomist, but I think two researchers come from a Terran company.”
Wescott acknowledged her assessment with a bow of his head.
“We’d like the best of both worlds, of course. We’d like to get
information on the Builders from the Minoans, yet have the Minoans stay out of our way.” Sewick
surprised her with a conciliatory tone. “And so far, Barone is right: They’ve stayed out of our
way. The Minoans have expressed no interest in the artifact. They haven’t even asked for access
to the video coming from your bot.”
Apparently, their rebellious bot, which was stuck on the artifact, was
still working. Ariane wasn’t surprised that it was still recharging its batteries and
operating, but she hadn’t expected it to continue broadcasting. Matt would want the bot back
eventually, because it was property of Aether Exploration, but he didn’t have that kind of
control over other research. Aether Exploration got a say in
who
managed the G-145 pie, not in
how
the pie should be consumed—or
perhaps how the pie was baked? Okay, the pie was a bad metaphor. Basically, she didn’t have the
authority to arbitrarily change research decisions.
“What makes you think the Minoans will send someone to help? They’ve
been pretty picky on how they’ve ‘helped’ humankind in the past.” Perhaps she should remind
them of the chaos the Minoans had created upon first contact with pre-Terran Earth.
“Come. I’ll show you what they want.” Barone gestured toward the airlock
down at the end of the tube. Ariane walked beside him and everyone else trailed behind. They
were going downhill and underground; she stepped cautiously in what seemed about three-quarters
standard gee.
Everyone was silent as they cycled through the airlock and when she
looked at Barone questioningly, he winked. Then the site-side doors opened.
“Oh.” Her mouth fell open and she tentatively stepped forward onto a
honed hard surface that had irregular opalescent striations. She stood under an arch of the
same material.
“Not what you expected?” Barone asked.
“It’s so—so beautiful.”
“
That
. That is what the Minoans are after.”
Barone pointed to her, then to the nodes installed on a thin metal structure built inside the
arch. “Your
reaction
. The Minoans are more interested in our
reactions to these ruins, than in what we’re examining.We’re required, by our contracts with
them, to deliver all sorts of observational data—but data of us, not of the Builders’
artifacts, materials, or engineering.”
She barely heard Barone’s words as she stared around the large,
glittering hall. She felt as if she had stepped inside a jewelry box carved of translucent
semiprecious stone. The hall was rectangular and at least twenty meters by ten meters in area,
lit by glowing designs on the ceiling.
When she and Matt first gathered their data using
Aether’s Touch
, they’d determined that there were artificial structures under
the surface of Priamos. As second-wave prospectors, they’d only had the use of telebots and
near-surface scans. They could determine the size of the upper-most structures, but they hadn’t
landed on the moon surface. Neither had the original Pilgrimage exploration crews, who were
technically the first wave of prospectors. Now that the Beta Priamos station and elevator were
built, researchers had swarmed onto the surface.
“You’ve pressurized the structure, and installed scrubbers and oxygen
generators.” She should have noticed this earlier, but she’d been enthralled with the polished
semiprecious stone pillars inlaid with metal and glowing materials.
“Ms. Kedros, we need to start using that matrix. There’s no time for
tours right now.” Sewick stepped up and grabbed her elbow, causing a twinge in her ribs. He
started steering her through the long hall between two rows of columns.