He stepped out of the tent, fastening his shirt, and glanced around. There was no sign of Cidra, but he was curiously unconcerned. He sensed the direction in which she had gone, and he set out to follow. He was just about to step through the deflector screens when a niggling sense of unease stopped him. For a moment he couldn’t figure out what the problem was. Then he thought about the pulser and utility loop he had left behind in the tent. It wasn’t like him to go anywhere on this planet without either. He felt undressed without them. Habit was hard to break.
Shrugging, Severance walked back toward the tent. He wouldn’t need a weapon, but since he seemed uncomfortable without it, he might as well get it. Inside the tent he strapped on the holstered pulser and reached for the utility loop.
With the familiar weight of the pulser and the utility loop in place, he walked back outside and through the deflectors. A strange impatience was beginning to eat at him now. He wanted to catch up with Cidra. She might he quite a way ahead of him by now. He pushed his way through the underbrush, deciding not to worry about what sort of creatures might be hiding in the vicinity. Hadn’t he already realized that the jungle was not really a hell? It was a good place, a natural place, one where a man could feel in harmony with nature. Perhaps this was how Harmonics had always felt. If so, he could understand Cidra wanting to become one. Poor Jeude. He’d never had his chance to become a trained Harmonic.
Severance frowned and then relaxed, pushing thoughts of his brother aside. Jeude had been avenged. His memory could be put to rest. Renaissance was a good place to do that too. It was a planet of rest. Gentle, green rest.
He kept walking, not bothering to question his absolute certainty of direction. After all, he’d always had a good sense of direction. The jungle didn’t fight him. Why should it? It was expecting him.
He stepped through a wall of trailing vines and saw Cidra. She was only a short distance ahead of him, right where he had known she would be. Severance smiled, quite pleased with himself. But he didn’t call out to her. That seemed unnecessary. Instead he simply moved a little more quickly.
She glanced at him when he caught up with her. Her eyes had that slightly unfocused expression again, but that was all right. He knew what she was thinking of now. There was no need to communicate. He was thinking of exactly the same things she was. The shared knowledge was pleasant.
Green hell.
No. Green shelter. Peace. Tranquility. Rest.
It all waited up ahead. Not far now. Severance was sure of it.
So was Cidra. She moved unerringly in the right direction, following the gentle, guiding call. It wouldn’t be long now. The safe-hold was very near. All the answers were very near.
She and Severance stepped through the last wall of tangled vines and leaves and into the clearing. Cidra halted, drinking in the sight of the safehold bathed in the last of the night’s moonlight. Severance stopped beside her, equally enchanted.
It was a graceful, airy thing. The Ghosts had had a light, perfectly balanced touch when it came to architecture. And the safe-hold had been designed with special care, for it housed important secrets.
Even as Cidra and Severance watched, walls of translucent stone caught the first light of the morning dawn and glowed with it. The vaulted doorway was open wide, an invitation that could not be denied. The structure seemed lighter than air, circular in shape, and yet it rested firmly on the green velvet of the clearing. It was not a large building, not much bigger than Desma Kady’s octagonal living quarters. It appeared to have been carved out of a single huge block of stone. The roof was arched, revealing delicate veins in the material. Through the vaulted entrance nothing could be seen, but it was obvious that light was passing through the stone to gently illuminate the interior.
Cidra stepped forward eagerly, and Severance followed more slowly. For a moment just before she entered the safehold, Cidra had time to realize that it was unusual to find anyplace on Renaissance where nature was not in a constant state of combat. Yet here the green velvet underfoot was obviously not having to compete with other foliage. No stray shoots of vines had encroached from the surrounding jungle. There was no sign of any wildlife within the protected circle. Not even insects. In the clearing all was tranquil and serene. A small brook emerged from the jungle on the far side of the protected clearing, bubbled through it, and disappeared into the foliage on the opposite side.
“Just like a garden in Clementia,” Cidra breathed as she came to a halt in front of the entrance. “Smell the air, Severance. It’s so soft and fragrant.”
“I know,” he said, glancing around curiously. Some of the feeling of quiet sureness was receding in him. “Maybe too soft and fragrant, Cidra.”
“Nonsense. This is how the Ghosts lived. I know it. When they were here, the jungle was a place of harmony. Just like this clearing. Come on, Severance. Let’s go inside.”
He hesitated, struggling now with something in his mind. Severance’s eyes were vaguely troubled as he looked down at her. “Cidra, I’m not sure . . .”
“I’m going inside.” She stepped through the entrance.
Severance shook his head, trying to clear it. Then he realized that there was no need to clear it. All was in order. All was serenely in order. He followed Cidra through the open gate.
THIRTEEN
The first thing Cidra noticed was the silence.
“Like the inside of a grave on QED,” Severance said.
“No. Like the Hall of Archives in Clementia.” Cidra stood just inside the entrance and glanced around. The curving walls allowed sufficient light into the room to see a floor that was made of the same white stone. The far end of the circular room was in soft shadow. There were no lines of joining between walls and roof or walls and floor. “It’s that kind of quiet, Severance. A place where something has been stored for the ages.”
“But there’s nothing here.” He reached out to touch the translucent stone wall. “Perhaps long ago it was a . . . He hesitated, struggling for the right word. “A safehold.”
“Yes.”
“Cidra. What’s a safehold? We don’t have any facilities called safeholds. Where in hell did I get the word?”
“From whatever led us here.”
“I don’t like it.”
She was surprised by the underlying resistance in his voice. “You don’t like what?”
“Having words put in my head. I don’t like being led through the jungle by something I can’t see. Something in my mind.”
“Why did you come, then?” Cidra asked.
“I don’t know. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Severance . . .”
He turned to her, anger and growing concern in his face. “I said it seemed like a good idea at the time. But it wasn’t my idea.”
She put out her hand, touching him lightly. Cidra smiled wistfully. “Calm down, Severance. This place is good. It’s safe. It’s in control of the jungle, can’t you tell? The Ghosts could deal with the jungle. And that feeling of having something or someone communicate with you mentally?”
“What about it?”
“That must be what it’s like to be a true Harmonic, Severance. It may be as close as I’ll ever come to knowing that feeling.”
He shook his head. “That wasn’t communication, Cidra. That was an act of control. We didn’t consciously decide to come here. We were pulled here. We could have been killed at any point along the way by anything from a green slicer to a lockmouth.”
“No. I think that whatever led us to this place of safety had the strength to make the path here safe too.”
“I wonder if it will bother to make the path back safe or if it only works one way.” Severance took a few more paces into the dimly lit room. “All right. We’re here. Now what?”
“This may be all that’s left.” Cidra began moving along the wall, following the curving surface to the far end of the room. As she walked she trailed a hand along the warm stone surface. It was pleasant to the t
ouch. “But once there was something more here.”
“How do you know so much about this safehold?” he demanded. He was moving behind her, unwilling to let her get too far out of reach, even though he could see nothing that looked dangerous.
“I’m learning about this because I’m willing to listen. I’m open to it. You must be able to listen, too, Severance. After all, you were able to follow the call. Stop being so wary of it. Be still a moment and let yourself absorb it. Do you really feel anything wrong here?”
“Yes and no.”
She swung around, her eyes full of amusement. “Yes and no? Come now, Severance, you’re not usually so ambivalent.”
He shrugged, scowling. His hand was resting on the butt of the pulser. “I can’t explain it. I didn’t feel anything wrong on the way here, although I should have, and part of what I feel now is acceptable, I guess you’d say. Strange but not dangerous. But there’s something else that I don’t like. It’s just a feeling.”
“Perhaps just a sensation of alienness. After all, this is the first complete Ghost structure ever found as far as I know. There are records of hundreds of fragments of their buildings but nothing complete and in good condition like this.”
“Have any of those records of the fragments mentioned this kind of building material?” Severance eyed the gently glowing stone.
“None that I’ve come across,” Cidra admitted. “This is truly unique. Perhaps it’s newer than the others. If so, then it might help us date the Ghost civilization. Severance, this is such an important find. We’re so lucky to have discovered it.”
“We didn’t discover it,” he said flatly. “It discovered us. There’s a difference, Cidra.”
She decided to ignore him. He was obviously going to be difficult. Cidra started walking again, curious to see the far end of the hall that lay in shadow. She was aware of Severance reluctantly following. “I think there’s something back there.” Excited by the possibility, Cidra hurried forward.
“Cidra, wait. Hell, the floor is changing color!” Severance stared down as the white stone began to shade into a pearlescent pink. “We’re getting out of here.” He grabbed Cidra’s arm, jerking her to halt.
“I want to see what’s at the back of the room.” She tried to pull free, but his hand was clamped around her arm like a manacle.
“Severance, please. This is what I’ve been looking for. Don’t you understand? What’s here could be the source of the legends I’m following. This place might hold the key I need to go home.”
“I don’t care if this place holds a lifetime supply of Rose ale. We’re not hanging around any longer.” Roughly he hauled her toward the entrance.
But the floor was changing color quickly now, shimmering from pink to red and then to violet. Other colors were filtering to the surface, and even as Severance watched, the shifting colors bled upward into the walls and ceiling. Then, without any warning, there was something more than colors. There were shapes. Shapes that weren’t restricted to the two-dimensional surface of the walls. They seemed to be stepping out into the room.
“The Laughing Gods, Severance. Look at them. They were real. Just look at them.”
Stunned, Severance came to a halt in the middle of the room, still holding Cidra with one hand. His other hand hovered above the holstered pulser. He heard the wonder and excitement in Cidra’s voice and knew that he felt the same sense of awed anticipation. The feeling of alienness was gone. What filled him now was a magnificently amplified version of the serenity and quiet pleasure he got when he handled his collection of stone carvings. The Laughing Gods were everywhere in the safehold. They surrounded Cidra and Severance, but it was clear that they had no substance. They were an illusion, something like a holotype projection but far more perfectly reproduced. It was like being in the midst of Ghosts.
Mesmerized by the reality of what he was seeing, Severance continued to stand still. Cidra didn’t move beside him. There was no sound, only the shifting images on the ceiling and walls and in midair.
“It’s a record,” Cidra whispered. “I was right. This place is an Archive. These are the Ghosts.”
“They look different than they do in the carvings.”
“I don’t think so. It’s only their clothing that’s different. That would make sense if these are images of them at a later period of their development.”
The drive to get out of the safehold was gone. Severance felt relaxed again. Cidra stopped struggling to free herself when she realized that she wasn’t going to be hauled forcibly out of the room. They stood quietly, watching the shifting images that filled the room. The Ghosts had been a handsome people. The vaguely feline features expressed a deep intelligence and an awareness that was obvious even to people whose ancestors had come from another solar system. They moved with a lithe grace, walking on two legs. Their clothing was more simply styled in these images than the clothing worn by the statues. The portions of the body not shielded by the simple robes were furred.
As Cidra watched, the crowded figures began to fade. Unhappily she watched the swirling images disappear. “Severance, they’re going.”
“The picture is just fading. They were never really here to begin with.”
“But I need answers!”
“There’s no reason to expect any,” he said gently.
He was right. She knew that, but a part of her wanted to cry out in protest. There was so much to learn, so many questions she wanted to ask. Above all there was the mystery of how she and Severance had been led here in the first place. “Damn it. I wanted to know.”
“We’ve already seen more than any Harmonic archaeologist has ever seen.”
“I realize that, but it’s not enough. I need to find the key.” She stopped talking as she realized that not all the graceful images had disappeared. Five Ghosts remained, shimmering between her and the doorway. “Look, Severance. There’s more.”
He said nothing, watching as the five robed figures coalesced in midair. In addition to the simple white garments, these Ghosts appeared to have a golden band around their furred wrists. Long, delicate fingers tipped with curving nails reached out.
For a wild moment Cidra thought that the creatures were gesturing toward her, and then she realized that the gentle, slanting eyes were not really seeing her. This was still only a projected image. But there seemed to be a purpose to the gestures. When all five Ghosts pointed toward the wall to their right, she automatically followed the tapering hands.
A new series of pictures sprang into existence on the curving wall and began flowing out from it. More Ghosts appeared, moving through a wild jungle setting that could only have been Renaissance. But the hands of these Ghosts were tipped with long, dangerous-looking claws, not well-trimmed nails. There were crude weapons worn on leather belts. Very little clothing was evident, but there were quite a few pieces of primitively ornate decorative items on furred throats, wrists, and ankles.
“The Ghosts’ ancestors?” Cidra asked.
“Could be. I get the feeling there’s a lot of distance between those cats with the claws and the five guys standing in the middle of the room.”
Even as Severance spoke, it became obvious that the scene evolving around them was a hunt. The handful of ghosts were prowling. There was no doubt about it. They moved with a menacing care, and it wasn’t long before the object of the hunt came into sight. A horned animal stood on six legs nibbling leaves off a tree. Severance thought the creature resembled a modern-day Renaissance mannator.
Cidra swallowed as the Ghosts attacked. The six-legged animal went down amid a flurry of thrown knives and scrabbling claws. As it struggled, its throat was ripped out. The fine quality of the illusion made the blood look very real. She was sure that what was happening was a simple and necessary hunting operation, but the violence of it was sickening. It brought back memories of feeding dracons. When she glanced briefly at her companion, she saw that he wasn’t particularly affected by the gory scene.
The lifelike mural continued, showing the Ghosts engaged in other activities besides the hunt. Cidra became interested in what was apparently a religious ceremony. Five Ghosts conducted the proceedings from behind an altar made of stone. The observers were seated cross-legged on the ground, swaying to an unheard beat. The fact that there were five leaders was interesting because that was how many Ghosts had appeared a few minutes ago in the room. Cidra tried to see if there were gold bands on their wrists but got distracted when a large, scaled animal was thrown down onto the altar. Too late she realized what was about to happen. She didn’t manage to look away in time to avoid seeing the knife dragged across the belly of the sacrifice. Again she felt nausea welling up, threatening to choke her for a moment.
Averting her eyes from the bloody scene, Cidra glanced back toward the middle of the room. The five Ghosts in white robes continued to stand pointing toward the moving illusion. Reluctantly she looked back.
“This is getting awfully gory, Severance. I don’t understand. It isn’t how I imagined the Ghosts would be.”
“You don’t think it was easy surviving on Renaissance, do you? Nothing that becomes dominant on this planet is going to be sweet-natured.”
“But the carvings show a gentler nature. And those five standing over there, they couldn’t have been like this.”
“Wait and see.”
The images continued to shift, fading in and out of the walls. They moved more swiftly now, slowing only to show the details of a scene of weaving, the preparation of a meal or the carving of stone. It became clear that there was an element of time and progress involved. Clothing changed, becoming more elaborate. The design of structures altered. The early images showed the Ghosts sheltering in huge, wide-limbed trees. As the scenes progressed, however, shelters were created out of rocks and vines.
“It’s moving too quickly.” Cidra wanted to slow the images and savor each nuance of information contained in them. “There’s too much to see.”
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