Voyage to Alpha Centauri: A Novel (43 page)

“Approximately 19.9 kilometers”, he replied.

At this lower altitude, we noted another distinguishing feature of the trench. Along the upper edges on both sides, there was a band of trees standing higher than those of the forest stretching away in all directions. This too was consistent along its entire length.

As we neared its termination point, we slowed to full hover before a flat cliff face that soared vertically a thousand meters or more before breaking up into rougher formations.

“Should we land?” the pilot asked.

“Yes, please, Jan”, Dariush replied.

With that, we began to descend, and nestled into a gap in the woods near the cliff, not far from the edge of the trench.

When we disembarked, the three of us immediately set out to learn more. First, we climbed upward through the trees growing from the mound bordering the trench, a sloping wall about twenty feet high. Arriving at the top, we then crossed forty feet of level ground and came to the brink of the trench itself. Gazing down, we saw that it was crowded with woods, though its foliation was thinner and the trees spaced farther apart, as if the soil was poorer in the depression. Even so, it looked entirely natural, for the forest floor was thick with moss and ferns and old fallen trunks.

I picked up a dead branch for use as my walking stick, and after a nod to each other, the three of us made our way slowly downward. When we reached the bottom of the trench, we glanced in every direction, looking for old stone ruins, monoliths, anything that would give evidence about its makers. There was nothing.

“But where does this thing go?” Jan asked.

Now we turned our eyes to the very end of the trench, a few paces away from us. There were no markings on the cliff face that we could see; nor was there a natural cave or an artificial one. Abruptly halted by the lack of anything that would point to an answer, as if our rational minds had collided with the stone itself, our imaginations now began to fly about in every direction.

“If this trench was man-made, it may have been a canal for funneling water to the lowlands beyond the western range”, I suggested.

“A plausible explanation, Neil,” Dariush replied, “yet the western range is amply endowed with snow packs and rivers that would supply the west. There would be no need to drain this central range.”

“Yes, you’re right.”

“Was it a road to carry materials from mining operations higher in the mountains?” asked Jan. “At one time, there might have been chutes funneling ore down from above. Here in this spot vehicles could have received the ore and transported it to smelters beyond the pass.”

“It’s possible”, I said. “But I don’t think anyone has found evidence of industrial activity beyond the mountains.”

“None”, said Dariush. “I have checked the maps carefully from here to the western rim of the continent, and there is not a single topographical anomaly that would indicate buried cities or industrial sites.”

“They may be buried very deep”, Jan countered.

“Perhaps. If they are there, they would be of great antiquity, covered with ages upon ages of detritus.”

“Surely there’d be a few standing buildings”, I said.

“If they were made of stone and once stood very tall.”

“You say that this road ends at the far side of the pass.”

“Yes, there it ends, or disappears, since beyond that point the natural verdure blankets everything. At this latitude on the planet, the forests are lavish at altitudes lower than these mountain valleys.”

“Well, it’s a complete mystery”, I murmured, shaking my head. “As long as we’re exercising our imaginations, why don’t we take the AEC higher and see if there are any remnants of mining operations up above?”

“Shall we do it?” asked Jan.

“A moment longer, please”, murmured Dariush, walking in the direction of the cliff face. He stopped in front of it, his head moving this way and that, then tilting back as he gazed upward at the soaring mass. The surface looked uniformly bare for a thousand meters or more. As far as we could see, there were no marks on it, other than the random scorings of time and a few shrubs growing out of small cracks.

“No street signs”, I said to Dariush. “No door.”

He nodded, yet his face told me that he still wasn’t satisfied. “Let us look higher”, he said at last.

We climbed back into the AEC, and Jan fired it, and we were airborne. Slowly, he elevated the craft on hover power, at a rate of ascent that covered about a hundred meters per minute, plenty of time for our eyes to inspect the features of the rock face. Half an hour later, we reached a titanic fracture in the mountain’s flank, and paused, suspended above the valley, peering closely at every detail. It lacked any trace of roads, shafts, or caves, and there was no access to the heights above. It had been created by the forces of nature. We continued rising for another hour until we reached the peak, none the wiser.

After that, our pilot took us on an extended tour all around the peak and through nearby hanging valleys. Presently, we found ourselves gliding over the site of Pia and Paul’s wedding. There we descended in order to take a short break and, I think, to relive a little of that beautiful day.

“Excuse me, gentlemen”, said Jan when we had landed and depressurized. “Now I will have a nap.” He pulled his cap down over his brow, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes.

Dariush and I exited through the portal and walked into the woods in the direction of the lake. There was a good breeze blowing, and the trees were swaying, creating a symphonic effect of light refraction and the sound of tinkling bells.

“The crystal forest”, mused Dariush.

“A perfect name for it”, I agreed.

When we came to the glade by the lake, we noticed a disc of compressed grass where the newlyweds had pitched their tent. On the shore near the waterfall, I found two letter Ps made with pebbles, linked with the letter
t
—or maybe it was a plus sign.

Dariush stopped and silently gazed at the lake’s riffled surface. With his right hand, he made the sign of the cross over it. From his pocket, he removed a capped jar, which he opened. Then, with thumb and forefinger, he took from it a granular white substance and threw it into the lake in four directions, his lips moving all the while.

“Blessed salt, Neil”, he explained when he was done. “A symbol, a sign with authority. I claim this place, and this planet, for the Lord of the universe, our Savior.”

“Does it need claiming?” I asked, with a note of skepticism.

“It is his, for all things were made through him, by him, and for him. Even so, there is a war in the heavens.”

“A war? There hasn’t been a war for nearly a hundred years.”

“I mean the war that will last until the end of time. And thus, this little place may need reclaiming. I have also prayed that the entire planet will come under Christ’s sovereignty—if it has fallen, as ours once fell.”

Out of respect for the man, I voiced no further objections. Though I did say, half-humorously, “Well, we’ve yet to meet Nova’s Adam and Eve.”

“We have, however, met its serpents”, he countered.

We smiled at each other, and by unspoken agreement left off any further theological discussion.

Deciding to amble around the lake, we first hopped on step-stones across the brook that fed the waterfall. I slipped and soaked my boots. I was about to pull them off but hesitated, debating with myself about the danger of snakebite. Overcoming my fears in the end, I went barefoot for the remainder of the stroll. It felt so good to walk on the warm blue grass, to inhale its perfume, to feel the cool breeze on my cheek. The crystal symphony simultaneously stimulated and consoled. All in all, it was the most enchanting place I had ever seen; in fact, it was perfection. We circled the lake within minutes, soon finding ourselves again by the waterfall. I sat down on the grass and dabbled my feet, drowsy under the influence of the burbling waters, the crystal forest, and the little songbirds that had appeared, soaring in the air above us.

Dariush knelt down beside me. He remained motionless for a time, and I presumed he felt as I did, well contented and so soothed that he had no need for distracting conversation.

At one point, he raised his right hand again and made the sign of the cross over the mountain on the other side of the lake. That done, he resumed praying, still kneeling, his body upright. He was immobile for longer than seemed natural, his face in repose, his eyes closed. I watched him uneasily, feeling somewhat impatient, but kept myself occupied by observing the valley’s unequalled beauty.

Suddenly, he groaned and struggled to his feet, agitated, his eyes moist with some pain.

“What is it, Dariush?” I asked.

He looked at me then, and I saw in his expression a sorrow that seemed to have no cause.

“What’s the matter?” I pressed.

“A great evil has occurred here”, he said. “Here?”

“Not in this meadow. It occurred nearby.”

“How would you know such a thing?”

“From across time, I feel the presence of terror, of despair.”

Trying to reason him out of whatever mood had struck him, I said, “How can that be? There’s no evidence that a civilization ever existed here. No evidence at all. That road—well, is it really a road? We don’t know anything about it.”

“There
was
a civilization here. And great was its evil.”

“Maybe you’re imagining it”, I said doubtfully. “Maybe it’s something subconscious, like a resonance of your family memory of the bombing of Tehran.”

“It is different, Neil.”

More doubtful than ever, I recalled how on the voyage Dariush had desired to find a civilization on this planet, and how disappointed he was when the surveys discovered nothing. Had he mixed his disappointments with his myth of good and evil?

He gazed at me with unfathomable grief, or pity. “I hear and see it in my spirit”, he said.

Around us the birds swooped. The brook spilling into the pool continued singing as before. The breeze was scented with the perfume of flowers. The sky was cloudless, deep blue in the sunlight of AC-A and her two sister stars that shone by night and by day. All about me was tranquility, the pleasurable sensations of benign nature. I could not have imagined a more innocent place.

“There’s nothing here”, I said. “We’re alone.”

He looked at me strangely and said, “We are never alone, no matter how far we travel from our home. The birth and the crucifixion are ever present on the body of the Alpha and the Omega.”

It was the kind of symbolism Dariush used whenever reason was inadequate—or inactive. Now I was convinced that he was projecting a primitive fear onto this pristine world. I said none of this. Yet he knew me well enough to guess my thoughts. Or it may be that my face betrayed my general disbelief and my more specific doubt about his irrational intuition.

He sighed and said, “Jan is waiting. Let us go.”

We returned to the AEC and prepared for departure. Because Jan was running out of time, we were unable to inspect the towers. He took us directly back to the shuttle, and soon enough, I was in my room on the
Kosmos
.

Day 141
:

After our evening language study, I presumed that we would take our customary drink together in the bistro. But Dariush begged off, claiming that he needed to rest.

“I’m sorry if I seemed unresponsive this morning”, I said.

“There is no need to apologize, Neil. I understand how it appears to you.”

“Well, I know something disturbed you. What puzzles me is that you felt it in the most unlikely place on Nova.”

“Yes, a place of great beauty, an island of harmonious tranquility.”

“It’s certainly that. But then, the whole planet is a marvel.”

“I think not the whole planet.”

“Your feelings again?”

He nodded. “The little hidden valley may have been a refuge. Perhaps souls fled there from the evil surrounding them.”

I did not argue with him, for the incident by the lake had been a clash, or more accurately, an exercise in mutual discomfort, a disequilibrium between us, the natural outcome of his myths in conflict with my reasoning.

Before turning away to go to his room, he sighed and murmured pensively, “We have brought the Earth to this planet. We have brought our knowledge of good and evil, for it is within each of us. Our proud voyage has infected this beautiful world.”

“So, you think that whatever you felt down there in the crystal forest was about
us
, not about some evil civilization that once existed here.”

“Of this, I am uncertain. It could be that two evils meet in this place.”

“Why not two goods meeting in this place?” I countered.

He gazed thoughtfully at me, and once more I felt the eerie discomfort of standing on the edge of unknown mysteries, beautiful and dangerous. Simultaneously, they attracted and repelled, yet they had no visible form.

“We should sleep”, he said abruptly.

We bid each other good night, and I returned to my room to make more notes. I went swimming at my usual hour and passed on my latest ruminations to Paul.

Day 157
:

Dariush tells me that he has informed the archaeology team about the “road”, the two towers, and the mathematical oddities. They are excited by the news and are in dialogue with other science teams and with DSI, negotiating to mount an expedition. Considering that the “evidence” is rather slim, it might take some time for the authorities and their committees to come to a decision, which would demand the rearrangement of the already overextended exploration priorities.

In the meantime, there is nothing to prevent us making sorties on our own.

Day 159
:

Today, we made another visit to the mystery site. This time, we were flown down by Paul’s best man, the Russian pilot. Paul had decided to accompany us as well. His Slavic temperament was in the forefront of our party, a mixture of high intelligence and capacity for intense focus, combined with an emotional spectrum that seemed much broader than the Anglo-Saxon, Persian, and even the Spanish. He was, in a word, excited.