Exiles (The Progenitor Trilogy, Book One)

by Dan Worth

  Steven waited until the balcony was empty save for himself and then leaned out over the parapet and placed one of the devices inside the mouth of a gargoyle that adorned the outer surface of one of the pillars, sticking it to the roof of the stone creature’s mouth with adhesive pads. He did the same with the other four pillars, then took out a small data-pad and clipped a receiver aerial to one of its ports. Its screen divided into four quarters, each displaying the incoming image from a different surveillance device. Steven used the inbuilt software to adjust the angle of the devices to his liking and then flipped though the various imaging modes. Satisfied, he closed the pad and slipped it back into his pocket, took a last look around, then headed back down the ramp.

  Working together, Katherine and Bibarat made good progress in uncovering the mason’s cranium. Working backwards from the crushed remains of the head-gills they picked and brushed the sandy soil away from the elongated skull with surprising speed. Something seemed odd about the shape though, to Katherine’s eyes. As she uncovered more she realised that the back of the alien’s head seemed deformed. Perhaps it had been squashed by the weight of earth? She pointed it out to Bibarat who nodded in agreement.

  As they worked, they revealed more of the skull and got their answer: the alien’s skull had been smashed by what looked like a heavy blow. The rear of the cranium had been struck by a solid object with a great deal of force. It had actually punched a large hole in the bone and forced a plug of material into the back of the mason’s brain. The blow would no doubt have resulted in almost instantaneous death for the luckless Dendratha.

  Katherine took some photos of the wound whilst Bibarat made notes. She called Rekkid over to have a look. He clambered out of his own hole and came and squatted by the body.

  ‘See Rekkid, here. Looks like he got hit by something, what do you think?’

  ‘Yes, there’s no doubt about that. A work related injury perhaps?’

  ‘Could be, I imagine there’s plenty of things could go wrong on a construction site. Maybe something fell on him whilst he was working? Say, he was looking down whilst working on a carving and something fell from above?’

  ‘Could be, that seems plausible.’

  ‘Well, Bibarat and I are going to uncover the torso next. Perhaps that might give us a few more clues, further signs of injury perhaps?’

  ‘Yes, let me know if you find anything.’

  ‘How are you getting on with your dig?’

  ‘Oh fine, nothing remarkable, though I did discover that the female in question suffered from some disease that left scars on her skeleton.’

  Katherine noticed Bibarat was peering at the mason’s head wound.

  ‘Something the matter, Bibarat?’

  ‘Yes. Perhaps he not killed by accident, perhaps he murdered?’

  ‘What makes you think that?’

  Bibarat shrugged.

  ‘I think our little friend has a sense of the dramatic, that’s all,’ said Rekkid. ‘Bibarat, it’s quite common for people to suffer horrible injuries on construction sites. Just because this poor sod’s had his brains smashed in doesn’t mean it was deliberate.’

  ‘It seems,’ Bibarat looked seemed to be trying to find the right word. ‘It seems too neat, the wound.’

  ‘Hmm, he’s got a point Rekkid.’

  ‘Maybe. However if a tool or freshly cut piece of stone fell on him it could leave similar wounds. Why don’t we unearth the torso and see if it helps? I’ll give you two a hand.’

  The three of them working together made good progress in revealing the rest of the mason’s mummified body. The skin was still intact even though the drying effects of centuries of entombment had left it stretched thin and papery over the rib cage. They found the arms too, slender and for some reason lying behind the creature’s back, not twisted underneath it as Katherine had earlier guessed, clearly not in accordance with known Dendratha burial customs.

  The hands and wrists revealed something more sinister. It was Rekkid who noticed it first: sturdy lengths of rope, now brittle with age, that bound the male’s hands together. There was now little doubt as to the cause of the mason’s injuries.

  ‘Executed, would you say Rekkid?’ said Katherine.

  ‘Yes I would. It seems fairly obvious that this poor fellow was tied up, had his head smashed in and then was buried in the pit wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘It certainly looks like it. It reminds me of the Bronze Age bodies found in peat bogs in Europe, back on Earth.’

  ‘Yes, I agree. Some of those were sacrifices, others were just criminals dealt some harsh local justice. But which is this?’

  ‘Given his proximity to the cathedral, perhaps the former.’

  ‘Hmm, there’s no record of the Maranist religion indulging in this sort of thing.’

  ‘No not now, but what about at the start, maybe… hey where’s Bibarat going? Bibarat!?’

  Their Dendratha student was hurriedly clambering out of the pit and making apologetic noises. Once clear of the dig he bobbed his head a few times before rapidly undulating away.

  ‘What’s got into him?’ said Rekkid with snort. ‘Think we offended his beliefs?’

  ‘Bibarat’s secretly atheist, so no we didn’t. Maybe he’s just scared of getting into trouble if he helped to find anything controversial?’

  ‘Hah, maybe. We do court controversy though don’t we Katherine?’

  ‘Quite.’

  They inspected Rekkid’s dig next. Clearing more of the soil from around the head and arms of the rope weaver they found the same thing: the skull caved in by a blow from behind, the wrists secured by rope, something Katherine found curiously ironic. A couple of the other digs were examined briefly and revealed the same thing. In one case the Dendratha diggers had uncovered the evidence but had neglected to inform either Rekkid or Katherine. They made sure that they recorded and photographed everything they found. They would need evidence if they were to make such contentious claims, and there was no telling if the sites would be interfered with by the disgruntled locals.

  ‘There’s little doubt about it Katherine,’ said Rekkid, looking at the dating results from his sample analyser. ‘These people were killed pretty much around the time the temple was completed and then buried around its base. I’d say they were an offering.’

  ‘Our hosts aren’t going to like that.’

  ‘No, I imagine they won’t,’ said Rekkid, a curious gleam in his eye. ‘I can’t wait to see Kukadis’s face. That pompous ass is in for a shock.’

  There was some shouting and waving from the direction of the tents.

  ‘Well, it looks like that’s it for the time being anyway,’ said Rekkid, peering at the signalling figures. ‘From all the gesticulating I gather it’s time to eat. Let’s cover the site and join them.’

  ‘Try to keep the dinner conversation polite won’t you Rekkid?’

  ‘Of course. I wouldn’t have it otherwise.’

  They sat around a table on a square of benches placed in the open air of the departmental quadrangle and lit by the glow of oil lamps that hung around the walled space. The smell of flowering plants mixed with that of the food as Katherine and Rekkid sat with the monks and students and ate. Steven’s place was unoccupied, he was late. The silence was broken by Kukadis clearing his throat and speaking.

  ‘I was wondering, what is your world like Professor Cor? Is it like that of the humans?’

  ‘Yes, in some ways. The climate and environment of Keros bears a number of similarities to that of Earth, though our people possess a far more advanced level of technology. It’s a long time since I’ve been back home though, you understand.’

  ‘Really? I wonder, what possessed you to live amongst a people other than your own. Is Keros an unpleasant world?’

  ‘No, no far from it. Keros and the other Arkari worlds are very beautiful places, unmatched anywhere in known space. There is no want, strife, hunger or crime. Most Arkari live in what would be regarded as palaces by oth
er species. Our society and technology has been honed to a state of near perfection over many millennia.’

  ‘So why leave?’

  ‘It’s too perfect. The Arkari Sphere is like a globe of crystal. Perfectly beautiful, but sterile. Nowhere is this sterility more obvious than in academic circles. We think that we’re so superior, that we know everything. So much so that many are unwilling to learn anything that goes against the established order, especially from other societies. The Commonwealth appeals to me far more. Its dynamism, combined with its mix of many species besides humans, gives it a vibrancy that my own society lacks.’

  ‘You enjoy getting your hands dirty don’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So, how was your day digging in the dirt? Productive I hope?’ Kukadis asked, apparently with some amusement. ‘I hope you washed your hands properly before sitting down to eat,’ he added with a smirk.

  ‘Very productive actually, since you ask,’ Rekkid replied. ‘I find I discover more if I do the work myself instead of relying on underlings.’

  ‘And what did you and your… human woman find, Professor?’

  ‘Doctor O’Reilly and I discovered that your so called archaeology students are more interested in pocketing shiny trinkets for themselves and whining than actually doing any work, that the monks in your department are sullen and positively hostile and that you, Master Kukadis, have no more inkling of how to conduct a dig than you have of the universe outside your petty parochial personal one.’

  ‘How dare you!’

  ‘I dare, now stop patronising Doctor O’Reilly and myself and try to learn something for a change.’

  ‘I don’t need to be lectured by you Professor Cor. I don’t care what accursed godless world you come from I will not be spoken to in that manner!’

  ‘Oh is that what all this is about? Religion? Is that why you’ve all been scorning us, unlike I might add, the other people we’ve encountered since we arrived here who, by and large, have welcomed us? For your information it was Ekrino who requested our presence here. I gather he’s rather a senior figure in the Maranist Church, Priest of the Third Cloister?’

  ‘Ekrino is… something of a radical. He has views that are unpopular with more traditional followers of Maran. He has fallen out of favour of late with High Priest Makallis, Priest of the First Cloister and head of our religion, and ruler of this holy city I might add.’

  ‘Frankly I have little interest in petty ecclesiastical squabbles. The Doctor and I have travelled a very long way to be here and we don’t appreciate being treated in this manner. We came here to help you.’

  Kukadis seemed to fold slightly. He looked embarrassed at being pilloried in front of his staff and students. He sighed.

  ‘Then, I apologise to you both. It was my impression that you had been imposed on us by the Commonwealth. So, what did you find?’

  It was Katherine’s cue to speak.

  ‘Master Kukadis I must warn you that what we uncovered today might not be to your liking.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘We excavated a handful of graves around the base of the temple. All turned out to be those of craftsmen and labourers that worked on the original construction of the building.’

  ‘So you have failed to locate the twelve priests?’

  ‘So far, yes. Master Kukadis, all of the bodies we uncovered showed signs of having met an untimely end at the hands of others. It is our estimation that they were sacrificed as part of the temple’s dedication.’

  There was an uncomfortable silence. Kukadis was trembling with barely suppressed outrage.

  ‘I think you’ll find Doctor,’ he said slowly. ‘That your heretical statement is incorrect.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but that’s what we found. All the bodies we found had been struck on the back of the head and had their hands tied behind them.’

  ‘Doctor, our religion does not perform such base acts as the one you describe. Perhaps your species’ obsession with the K’Soth and their perverted beliefs has clouded your judgement?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ replied Katherine defiantly.

  ‘Perhaps I should have mentioned this earlier. One other reason we servants of Maran scorn you off-worlders so is that you are unclean, for you were not born within the blessed realm of Fulan. It seems this accusation has been born up by the offence you have just caused. We are not as easily impressed as the laypeople by your trinkets and your novelty.’

  ‘We meant no offence Master Kukadis.’

  ‘It’s a little late for that don’t you think? Ah, I see the other of your number has arrived, I wonder if he has joined us to cause us more upset?’

  Katherine turned to see Steven enter the quad and sit beside her, a bemused expression crossing his face at Kukadis’s comment.

  ‘What have you and Rekkid done now?’ He muttered under his breath to her. ‘Can’t I leave you two alone for five minutes without someone taking a dislike to you,’ he nodded at Kukadis who stared balefully back at him.

  ‘So,’ the fuming Dendratha spat. ‘What do you three intend to do now? Something equally worthwhile as your current blasphemy I take it?’

  ‘Actually,’ said Rekkid. ‘We, ah, we’d like to look at a frieze in the cellars of the temple first thing after we’ve slept.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s appropriate that you be allowed inside the cathedral. Who knows what claims you may make and who you may offend?’

  ‘Well tough, it’s to carry out a personal request of Ekrino’s. Apparently a recent tremor has destroyed some plasterwork and revealed an ancient frieze and he’d like us to have a look at it. Here, I have his letter to you here.’ Rekkid reached into one of his pockets and produced a surprisingly pristine folded letter which he flourished and handed to Kukadis. Kukadis read it and regarded Rekkid scornfully.

  ‘Very well,’ he said, apparently with some reluctance. ‘Though I doubt you’ll be of much assistance,’ he added and made to leave. The other Dendratha did likewise, seemingly having waited for this cue to depart. They undulated after him out of the quad, an army of giant caterpillars.

  ‘Care to explain what that was about?’ said Steven with one eyebrow raised quizzically.

  ‘A frank cultural exchange.’ replied Rekkid.

  ‘Rekkid thinks that the best way to conduct inter-species relations is to pursue a kind of intellectual gate-crashing, then bludgeon them into submission. Isn’t that right Rekkid?’ said Katherine.

  ‘Hah! Those stuck up bastards need someone to shake them up now and again. People like that hold a society back. The Dendratha could use more like Bibarat. Where was he by the way?’

  ‘Hiding at the back and keeping his head down,’ said Katherine. ‘He has more to lose than us remember? Just think about that next time you go yelling at Kukadis.’

  ‘Hmm, I suppose you’re right. So Steven, you’re a little late, where have you been?’

  ‘Around. I was in the temple just now, and I found a few things in there that I think will interest you both.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Kukadis will be less than enthusiastic though, I suspect.’

  ‘Oh? Good.’

  Chapter 17

  Quickchild stood on the shoreline of a small island, the breaking waves washing around his toes and the smell of the sea in his nostrils. The sun was warm on his face and he could hear laughing and the sounds of splashing water above the background rumbling and crashing of the waves. There was a chain of similar islands marching off into the shimmering distance. This was the hundredth or so image that Tyrunin has shown him and it was as unfamiliar as all the others he had been presented with. The AI was probing his mind, uncovering memories and reconstructing them for him in an effort to re-awaken the self he had lost. So far it had been unsuccessful, but as it dove deeper, Quickchild was beginning to sense an increasing underlying current of familiarity, though at present it was just a faint hint. He couldn’t say with any certainty why a particular scene seemed familiar until Tyr
unin told him, even though these were apparently recreations of his own experiences.

  He turned and saw a group of young aliens of a species he didn’t recognise. They were playing in the shallows, splashing one another and scooping the sand into piles. They were brown skinned, largely hairless and humanoid and strangely graceful. Quickchild looked down at his own body and found his to be an adult version of the children he was observing.

  ‘Where is this?’ he heard himself say.

  ‘Don’t you remember?’ said Tyrunin’s voice inside him.

  ‘No, should I?’

  ‘Yes, this is the beach at Akrad, close to where you lived on our home-world. These are your children. Well, mostly yours anyway.’

  ‘I don’t, I don’t recognise them at all. How is it that you know this yet I don’t?’

  ‘A matter of perspective. Does a book know the ending of the story it contains? In time it will come to you.’

  Quickchild watched his children play, squealing with infant excitement as they found a small sea creature buried in the sand. It rose up on flippered legs and scuttled away from them.

  ‘If I had children, then who was my mate?’

  ‘I have not yet been able to ascertain that, it… seems there were a number in your life. It is unclear which one bore your young.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘I shall show you other memories.’

  The scene shifted. Quickchild found himself in a space habitat, a gargantuan metallic reef bathed in the light of twin suns. It was home to millions, perhaps billions like him. An uncountable number of craft moved about the structure, bright points that caught the sunlight as they flew nimbly about the huge islands and bracketed outcroppings.