Ancestor's World

by T. Jackson King

  "Representatives of his clan have promised thirty years of reparations to the family of Interrelator Waterston. Will this, joined with the completion of your Temple Obligation,

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  be sufficient recompense for their loss?"

  Mahree wanted to refuse the financial penalty offer, but refrained. It was the way of the People, and perhaps accepting the reach of their Law in this case would assuage the recriminations she heard had broken out among the two factions. She bowed slightly. "The offer of reparations is accepted by me, on behalf of Bill's parents. I am sure it will comfort them. Thanks to the final report by Investigator Krillen, this case is now closed. The harm to our clan Human is healed." She squatted back down.

  Salween's ears showed relief. "The Law of the Revered Ancestors is satisfied." The Elder glanced around the circle of other Na-Dina. "Do my Brothers and Sisters have questions of this brave female, who brought down the escape craft of the One Who May Not Be Named?"

  Mahree's face burned. She didn't feel like a hero. She still felt waterlogged, thunder-deafened, sandblasted, and just thankful that Etsane had escaped death. As had Gordon. She almost reached back to grip his hand, but refrained when the Elder representing the Temple of the River tossed salt into the sand pit.

  "Ambassador, what is the status of the Great Dam at the First Cataract?" The rather young female paused, her ears grimacing, as if the question burned her tongue. "And is it true that Nordlund lied to the Council about the site's safety?"

  Mahree rose from her squat, telling herself not to take advantage of the fact that Renzees' Modernist faction had been shown to have had poor judgment. "Elder Renzees, the clay core of the diversion dam at the First Cataract, which held back a large lake as it forced the River of Life into a diversion tunnel, is intact ." The young female's ears flared with relief. "But the gravel layers covering the core are cracked, seepage is rising, and piping through and under the core is likely to occur. The dam will hold until the lake can be drawn down, or a controlled breach cut into the core."

  She paused, noticing how closely all the Elders listened as she discussed the life blood of their world. Twenty mil ion

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  Na-Dina had been at risk in the upriver area, where a breach-flood would have inundated many houses and cities. The hundred million living in the delta would have been safe, as would have the tens of millions living elsewhere around the shores of the Northern Sea. But it had been a close thing.

  Renzees prodded at her. "And the lie of Nordlund? We understand the Snore of Father Earth that cracked the dam facing came from a strike-slip fault lying underneath the dam axis." The woman, surely a hydrologic engineer like many of her sisters at the Temple of the River, grimaced again.

  "How did such a fault escape our notice? We have barged over the First Cataract for millennia, and yet, none from the Temple ever noticed the fault signs. And we are good at Reading the Ground. Lives depend on us."

  Mahree knew that. It was one of the two things that made this whole report a ticklish business. Still standing, she bowed slightly. "Elder Renzees, the fault-quake is not the responsibility of your Temple, but of Nordlund, which knew of the fault and lied to you." Reaching back, Mahree accepted the duplicate photo-sheets from Gordon, then passed them out to the Elders on either side. "Your Temple is highly trained at Reading the Ground--from ground level. But when the Sky Ship of our Mizari colleagues came here, after Nordlund's announcement of the contract with you, they conducted an orbital survey of the entire landscape of Ancestor's World, using multispectral scanners."

  The Elder from the Temple of Storms, a silvery-scaled male of advanced age, tossed his salt and glared at her. "The Sky Ship flew at length through Mother Sky? We had hoped this was not so."

  Mahree cursed the delicacy of diplomatic negotiations. Bowing to the Storms Elder, she explained. "Elder Too- loon, such an orbital survey is standard practice by all CLS survey ships. If there is error here, it lies with our own Council of Elders." Mahree faced back to her first questioner. "But, Elder Renzees, this error of ours now reveals what Nordlund knew, and did not tell you." She gestured at the false-color photoprints. "The strike-slip fault lies directly

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  underneath the riverbed, under fifty meters of silt and mud, and parallel to it.

  It is invisible from the surface and does not cross over into a cliff face, where you could Read the Ground and see how the soil speaks of such a break."

  The Temple of the River female hissed her relief. "The fault extends south to the Second Cataract, where the river turns westerly. Our image was made by a synthetic aperture millimeter-wavelength radar. Like the photographs of Investigator Krillen, it tells us many things."

  Mahree paused. All the Elders had their eyes fixed on the reflected radar photos. "This image also documents slight elevational differences between the canyon rim on the east side, and that on the west. The eastern rim is lower than the western one. I only discovered this myself when I called my office on Shassiszss and requested a copy of the survey report. It arrived at the embassy yesterday."

  The River Temple Elder peered at the photo. "I see the line, underneath the silt of the riverbed. This radar of yours penetrates through soft soil?"

  Mahree nodded. "Yes, it does. Rock bounces back the signal. With millimeter-wavelength radar, the smallest rock alignments, fractures, and discontinuities may be located. Even those buried under piles of dirt."

  Another Elder tossed out salt. "So the Great Dam can never be built. That is sad. But the People still need hydroelectric power greater than what we already generate elsewhere, in the Mountains of Faith. Ambassador, can other dams be built along the River of Life?"

  Mahree recognized the speaker as the young male from the Temple of A-Um Rakt who, last time, had accused her of wanting to keep the Na-Dina in ignorance. That Temple was the all-male home of the electrical engineers, and those female Honorary Members who shared the Temple's obsession with high technology, including dynamos, generators, and munitions.

  Telling herself to be fair, she told the truth. "Yes, Elder Sashoon, other dams can be built on side canyons of the River of Life." The Na-Dina beamed, his ears fluttering. "They could be concrete arch dams, stone block dams, or 285

  even earthfill dams. But careful study should be made of the impact on the flow of fertile silt down the River of Life. Your farmlands feed many of the People."

  Elder Salween threw salt into the sand pit, blocking the young man from further questions. "Ambassador, I am sure all future dams will be studied carefully, and the benefits versus risks weighed fully. Power we must have, but not at the cost of infertile fields. And we will ask the CLS for assistance in picking a more truthful contractor next time." Mahree tossed in her own salt.

  "Does that mean you have decided to cancel Nordlund's contract?"

  The old woman from the Temple of Earth Quaking blinked slowly. "Yes. With penalty claims made against them by our Finders of Fact." Behind her, Gordon chuckled. Salween looked to him. "One good result of this near disaster is that Ancestor's Valley will not be flooded, nor will the thousands of other Ancestral ruins which your people have located. Still, we would ask that Philosopher Mitchell remain among us, and continue his work. There are other Royal Tombs in the Valley, and study of them is recommended by the Temple of Records."

  "Excellent! " Mahree said, feeling relieved. This was just what she had hoped for. Glancing back, she nodded for Gordon to speak. As he rose, she squatted.

  "Thank you, Elder Salween," he said in a loud tenor that echoed against the room's domed ceiling. "My team and I are honored to stay and study the Royal Tomb of A- Um Rakt, the remains of the first seven dynasties, and any other site suggested by the Temple of Records." Grinning like a five-year-old, Gordon sat back down.

  Mahree felt as happy as Gordon. Soon this part of her job would be over. But not until the last questions were asked, and she made her proposal. She tossed salt into the sand pit, startling Salween, who surrender
ed the floor.

  "Ambassador?"

  Rising, Mahree looked around the gathered Na-Dina, then fixed on the middle-aged woman who represented the Queen's Household. "Elder Alasoo, the last time I was here you made several observations, and focused on the need for

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  the People of Ancestor's World to guard your home, on behalf of the Revered Ancestors. Military options were discussed." She paused, waited until she had their full attention, and then made her offer. "Elders of the People, the Irenics ship called to pick up the slaver captives has arrived. It rests now at the spaceport, beside the S.V. Emerald Scales. If the Council makes a formal request to our Council on Shassiszss for protection from outsiders, it will be granted. In fact, I am empowered to offer such protection to you."

  Behind her, Gordon stirred. He hadn't been privy to her last FTL holo-talk at the embassy, when she'd visited it yesterday to get the report and to meet with Krillen to close out the case. Looking around the suddenly silent circle of Na- Dina, she hoped and hoped. The representatives of both the King and the Queen consulted in low, hissing voices; then Elder Alasoo tossed in salt.

  "Explain how this protection would work. Would the craft be always a mark upon the face of Mother Sky?"

  "No!" Mahree calmed her fast-beating heart, and explained the suggestion given her by the Irenics captain. "Captain Hhortha indicates his ship could monitor local space while parked on the far side of Mother's Daughter. The image of our Sky Ship would not bespoil the robe of Mother Sky. It would fly through Mother Sky, and land on your world, only when absolutely necessary. Advance notice would be given. Permission would be requested of the Council."

  Alasoo stilled her ears. Mahree nearly swore, unable to read the woman's expression. Then they fluttered with the sign of satisfaction. "Acceptable.

  The Queen's Household, and the King, accept your offer of protection, with the conditions stated by you." The woman's body attitude turned suddenly fierce. "Be sure to warn your Captain that should he, or any of his people, approach our mountains, our rivers, our canyons without our permission, they will be fired on by the Queen's Own Guard. Cannon are being emplaced in the proper places. As is the Hand of Mother Sky."

  Mahree felt a chill. Had the Na-Dina truly leaped ahead and developed a pulse-cannon? That's what the words for

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  "Hand" indicated. Frankly, she did not wish to learn what ancient secrets were still to be discovered on Ancestor's World. Gordon could handle that better than she. "Of course," she said, bowing low. "I will warn the Captain.

  But contact through our embassy and with the Interrelator will prevent such misunderstandings."

  "So we trust." Alasoo squatted down.

  Elder Talteen, from the Temple of Records, tossed in salt and fanned her ears excitedly. "Ambassador, it is time to hear pleasant tidings. Would you tell us all the great news? Tell us the Words of our Great King A-Um Rakt.

  The ones uncovered by the young female, Black Stone?"

  Behind her Gordon chuckled again, as pleased as she that Etsane's nickname was known to the Council of Elders. Though her knees hurt from all the standing, Mahree bowed to the old Philosopher-Historian and smiled warmly. "Elder Talteen, Black Stone is also Etsane Mwarka, a woman of the Amharan people of Ethiopia, and descended from a royal line. This last week she found the key to translating First Dynasty Na-Dina. The records of the first seven dynasties are unlocked. The inscription at the Royal Tomb will be fully translated later today, when our camp gathers inside."

  Mahree paused, letting the excited hissings of the Elders die down. "But a glyph-wall in the City of White Stone tells the start of this story. It speaks of your Great King, of the Mizari people who visited your world six millennia ago, and of the honor both peoples showed to the Revered Ancestors,"

  She began, reciting from memory. "In the year when Father 's Snoring had stilled and the crops were tall and green, during the reign of King A-Um Rakt, Father to his people, Builder of the Great Pond at Shir-Li, Reader of the stars in Mother Sky, and priest to the Ancestors of Faith, there came Spirits from Mother Sky ..."

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  CHAPTER 16 The Path of Honor

  Khuharkk' stood alone at the edge of the Camp landing field, waiting for Mahree and Doctor Mitchell's jumpjet to finish landing. They'd just returned from meeting with the Council of Elders in Spirit, and he was eager to tell them of his career decision. It had been long in coming, but his talks with Pokeel of the Guard had finally cleared the way to his full understanding of the Path of Honor among the Na-Dina. Of how devotion to the Revered Ancestors guided daily life, and how, as on Hurrreeah, everything one did in the present was a mark of Honor, or dishonor, both for one's people and for one's ancestors. That knowledge had cleansed him of his fear of the dead, of tunnel-tombs, and brought new hope to him.

  Unable to hold in his joy, he began dancing. Tail held high, he rocked from foot to foot, hand to hand, then jumped into the air and twisted full circle. His dance honored all he had learned.

  With belly jets flaring, the jumpjet settled down onto its rubber pads and the stair-ramp extruded. First out the door was Mahree Burroughs, still dressed in her formal Star- Bridge uniform despite the midday heat. Doctor Mitchell followed after her, wearing less formal clothing of cotton

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  pants, safari shirt, and a bag slung over one shoulder.

  Mahree reached the bottom of the ramp and smiled at him. "Khuharkk'!" she said in Simiu. "Isn't that the Dance of Problems Resolved?"

  "Yes, oh yes!" he said excitedly, then regained control of himself. He ended the dance, and settled for a shifting from one foot and hand pair to another.

  Mitchell raised his eyebrows. "Problems resolved? Didn't realize you had any big problems, Khuharkk'. Not since you got yourself those two Honor Scars on your shoulders."

  Khuharkk' stood still, feeling total surprise. He'd almost forgotten them. What an un-Simiu thing to do! "Yes. No. And, oh! It's just that it's been such a hard thing for me, deciding whether to be a professional Archaeologist like you, Doctor Mitchell, or the Interrelator that I went to StarBridge Academy to become."

  Mahree eyed him closely. "You've made your decision, then?"

  "Yes!" He stood up, which brought him to shoulder level of the First Interrelator. "Ambassador, I wish to stay here on Ancestor's World to serve my people--and yours---as the Interrelator to the Na-Dina."

  The Philosopher looked disappointed. Mahree grinned happily. "Khuharkk', that's just wonderful!" she said, her words changing to a mix of hisses and clicks.

  "Oh!" Except for her first words, she'd been speaking to him in High Na-Dina, and he'd been replying the same way, without use of his voder. He'd done the same with Philosopher Mitchell, hardly lisping his English. "I forgot to turn on my voder," he said in surprise, "but it made no difference."

  Mitchell nodded. "That's the mark of a fully translingual Interrelator." The older man grinned broadly. "I'm very happy for you, Khuharkk'. My loss is the CLS's gain, and the gain in Honor is Hurrreeah's. It looks like your pair project with Sumiko taught you both good English and some useful flexibility."

  "Yes, she helped me a lot." Then he rolled his shoulders, 290

  flaring his Honor Scars. "But my talks with Marshall Pokeel of the Guard helped just as much, along with Axum's patience in teaching me Na-Dina."

  Mahree stepped closer to him, putting down her own bag on the hot sand.

  Crouching, she gave him the Simiu greeting salute of respect, bowing her head, then touching forehead, breast, and finally extending her hand, fingers curled, palm up.

  The Philosopher rather clumsily copied her. Mahree smiled at the Simiu youth. "Yes, Gordon is right. You show great Honor to your clan, and to all of Hurrreeah by this choice. Your mother and brothers will be proud of you."

  Khuharkk' hoped so. But even if this did not match the glory of Arena fights, it felt right to him. It was here that he'd come to value the concept of dead Ancestors who watched over the l
iving, and lost his fear of tombs. Here that he had grown to admire the Na-Dina Path of Honor. He wanted to spend the rest of his life here, on Ancestor's World, no matter the heat, no matter how much his fur matted with sweat, and no matter that it lay close to Sorrow Sector. He again made his plea to Mahree.

  "Ambassador, there is need for a new CLS Interrelator to the Na-Dina. I ask for the job. I ask for two reasons. One, to show Honor to the Revered Ancestors of the People. Second, to Honor the memory of Bill Waterston."

  Mahree gasped. "That's very special, Khuharkk'." Her expression softened.

  "Bill was my friend, too. I think he would be pleased."

  "I hope so," Khuharkk' said, recalling the young human's easy comradeship.

  "Now, I think I understand the Path of Honor on Ancestor's World well enough to follow in his dance steps."

  Philosopher Mitchell clapped him on the shoulder. "Khuharkk', you do not need to follow after Bill. You will dance your own path into the future, shoulder by shoulder with his spirit and his memory."

  Mahree blinked quickly, then stood up, putting her arm around Gordon's waist. "Yes," she said, nodding solemn

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  agreement. "Gordon is right. Khuharkk', follow your own Path to Honor. That will be the best memorial you can offer to Bill." She paused, then glanced to the archaeologist. "Gordon, I'm sorry to pull rank on you, but the Na-Dina need an Interrelator now, and I can't think of a better choice than Khuharkk'."

  "Oh, Mahree, thank you!" Khuharkk' said, struggling to maintain his professional demeanor. "I will work hard for the CLS, for Hurrreeah, and for the Na-Dina!"

  Mitchell sighed, then pointed toward the camp. "Mahree, I surrender. But surely he can stay for Etsane's reading of the Royal Tomb ideoglyphs? They were waiting for us to return before proceeding."