She nodded, then picked up her bag. "You're right. Khuharkk' can stay here until tomorrow, when the jumpjet returns to Spirit." Mahree turned to head for camp.
The archaeologist looked thoughtful. Khuharkk' kept silent, sensing that now, after the floods, the quakes, the storms, and the discovery of who had murdered Bill, it was a time for reflection.
For all of them.
He'd made his Dance of Problems Resolved. He'd overcome his fear of the tombs where dead Ancestors were honored. He'd pledged to be Honor-Bound with Etsane. Now, he must live with those decisions. He hoped to return often to assist Doctor Mitchell with his excavations in Ancestor's Valley. And he planned to stay in frequent contact with Etsane. But his first duty would now be to the Na- Dina, and to Hurrreeah. Two peoples, one Path of Honor.
When everyone finished crowding up to peer in at the Royal Tomb of A-Um Rakt, King of the First Dynasty of the People, Etsane moved forward. She sat atop the red porphyry bier on which had rested the dead king's sarcophagus. The main chamber floor had been cleared, but a rope still cordoned off the Treasury side room, off to the right. The king's grave-goods clustered in there. She drank in the yellow gleam of gold, the verdigis of old bronze, and the tarnished brown of silver as scores of items sparkled 292
under the artificial lights. They were the treasure given to the king by his People, to go with him on his journey to meet the Ancestors.
Time. Time to tell the tale. Crossing her legs, and then settling her formal Amharan robes about her, Etsane looked back over her shoulder at the people who watched and waited for her to begin.
Her old mentor Professor Greyshine stood looking on proudly, his thick gray mane brushed to a glossy highlight. He stared at her directly, in the Na-Dina compliment-giving mode. As did his mate, Doctor Strongheart, whose own burial analysis had confirmed the content of her translations at the City of White Stone, and now here in the Royal Tomb.
Standing inside the tomb and close by the Treasury entrance were astamari Mitchell and Mahree Burroughs, two people to whom she owed her life, and from whom she had learned much. Without Mahree's initial spotting of those Mizari Four glyphs in the Lab, she might not have hypnostudied that dead language. She would have been unprepared to make full use of the glyph-wall hidden in the catacombs under the Great Plaza of Segor A-mun, to use its proper name. They smiled encouragingly at her, looking on like proud parents.
Her heart thumped inside her as she thought again of her father Mefume, of his hopes for her, and of how his hard tasking had led her to knowledge, to hard work, and to the discovery of the century. She would be famous across all the CLS. Now, she must earn that premature notoriety.
She shifted her seating to face the piled-up coils of the single Mizari among her colleagues. The old Ceramicist lay coiled to the left of the tunnel entrance, occupying a place of honor inside the tomb, rather than crowded into the narrow tunnel with most of the others.
"Esteemed Lorezzzs," she hissed in Mizari, then lifted her hands over her head to form a triangle in the traditional greeting gesture. "Your people can be very proud of how one group of them, six thousand years ago, gave help, insight and sharing to the People of Ancestor's World." She 293
smiled. "Yes, there is a clue in these glyphs to the fate of the Mizari Lost Colony."
Lorezzzs lifted her triangular head, her neck tentacles fluttering excitedly, her amber and silver scales glittering under the lights. "There is? Wonderful!"
She stared at Etsane with glowing emerald eyes. "But I can wait a few moments longer. You must give credit where credit is due, yes?" The Mizari woman tilted her head toward the tunnel entrance, in front of which gathered the Na-Dina contingent.
"Yes, I must acknowledge the critical help of the People." Etsane stared at Axum, dig crew chief extraordinary, at Pokeel of the Guard who stood at formal attention, and at the two representatives of the Temple of Records, an old male and female who, as Philosopher-Historians of their people, had been of critical help to her in translating the idiomatic glyphs. "Thank you, my friends." All four Na- Dina fluttered their fan-ears excitedly and stared back at her. She accepted the compliment, then broke her own stare to look behind them and fix the Drnian male. "Natual," she said. "I'm glad you're going to be staying on, too. I'm looking forward to more dinners."
After all this practice, his version of a smile came quickly. "I am looking forward to that also, Etsane." Etsane looked forward to the future. Would her friendship and more with Natual actually become a relationship? She did not know ... but she was going to give it a chance to work, she'd decided that.
After all, she'd have lots of time, spending years in Ancestor's Valley working to record and decipher the thousands of inscriptions and iconographic images of the first seven dynasties. It was too much for one lifetime, but with Natual's help, and that of all the others, she could make a dent in it.
Breaking eye contact, Etsane turned back to face the golden ideoglyphs that covered the entire back wall of the tomb, and reached out to either side.
"Ohhh!" The way they gleamed under the lights, the beauty and sweep of the seven rows of glyphs, filling the wall from floor to domed
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ceiling, from one side of the tunnel entrance around to the opposite side, sobered her. Now, she would reach back six thousand years. Now, she would open the first pages in the Book of the People. Now, she would speak of the glory, the wonder, and the danger of the past.
"My friends," she said, speaking in High Na-Dina, "these glyphs tel a wonderful history, only part of which you have heard. Hear now the entire words of the Revered Ancestors."
Behind her, talon-feet scraped raw stone, boots rubbed the dusty floor, and scaled coils rasped as all leaned forward, eager to hear. Reading from left to right, from top to bottom, Etsane began speaking in a loud, clear voice.
"The Great King A-Um Rakt, Father to his people, Builder of the Great Pond at Shir-Li, Reader of the stars in Mother Sky, priest to the Ancestors of Faith, and Ruler of Segor A-mun, was the first of the People to speak with the Sky Spirits who descended from Mother Sky. The rainbow-scaled ones were all tail and lacked a talon with which to write in the white stone of the city walls, but they knew how to read the movement of the stars, they knew the ways of dam building, canal digging, well digging, water raising and salt mining, and they knew the hearts of the People. Like the children of the River of Life, the Sky Spirits hungered to know the mind of the Revered Ancestors, whom they said resided somewhere among the folds of the black robe of Mother Sky.
They had come to Ancestor's World in search of signs that their own ancestral Spirits had passed this way on the journey to knowledge and the afterlife. "
Etsane paused as, behind her, her Mizari colleague gasped with excitement at the news of the Mizari Lost Colony. Feeling the chill of the ages upon her skin, Etsane drew closer her robes, placed her faith in the ghostly spirit of her father, and continued.
"Some signs they found in the Mountains of Faith. Of those signs, none of the People know their nature. But the rainbow-scaled ones felt a debt was owed to the People, and so they stayed among the People, as the guests of the Great King, for forty risings and fallings of the River of
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Life. Much did they teach us. Coming in the eighth year of the reign of the Great King, they spoke to him of how Father's Snores might be observed in a large pond of certain design. The Temple of Earth Quaking had suspected such, but the method of calculating this design was learned from the Sky Spirits. In the fourteenth year of the King's reign, they did observe the male priests of the Temple of Storms flying through the air upon wooden wings that rose when the heated air of Father Earth lifted in homage to Mother Sky.
The Sky Spirits warned that such craft might draw the Touch of Mother Sky, especially if made of metal. They gave counsel upon how such flights might be made in safety, speaking of bags containing the essence of Mother's Eye.
And from that day forward, only the pilots of the Temple vent
ure forth into the high realms of Mother Sky.
"That's where Beloran learned to build his paraglider!" cried Doctor Mitchell from behind Etsane, interrupting her.
She glanced over her shoulder at the man, who blushed now, as if he'd committed a social error. He hadn't. "Doctor, you may interrupt me any time you wish. But I in turn will feel free to challenge your theories. In the years ahead, as I work with you, that may happen often. Shall we keep count?"
She grinned at him, feeling mischievous.
He grinned back, then winked at Mahree. "Well, you got Khuharkk', but at least she's staying here. I think I got the better part of the deal."
Mahree eyed Etsane's new mentor with wry affection. "Gordon, please shut up, and let's listen." The woman faced Etsane and stared. "Etsane Mwarka, of the clan Amhara, please continue."
Etsane faced back to the golden glyphs, picking up where she'd left off. "/n the twenty-sixth year of the reign of Great King A-Um Rakt, the rainbow-scaled Sky Spirits showed the People how to dig a water well deeper than any in the city of Segor A-mun. With stone smelted from the Mountains of Faith, they did devise a water-cooled drill whose bore reached the deepest chambers of Father Earth." She paused to accept a cup of water from cream-furred Ttalatha, who had sneaked in to sit at the talon-feet
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of the Na-Dina representatives. Sumiko did the same, followed by Khuharkk', to whom she was Honor-Bound. His presence pleased her immensely, but she had work to finish.
"Thank you, Ttalatha. Now comes the critical part of the text." She faced back and resumed her reverential translating of the ideoglyphs.
"In the forty-sixth year of the Great King 's reign, the Temples of the People divided into two disputing camps. One camp hailed the Sky Spirits as the Ancestors newly incarnate, returned from the winds of Mother Sky and the chambers of Father Earth, to rule over the People. The other camp, that led by the Great King, warned against such impiety, saying the Sky Spirits were persons like the People, but of greater knowledge and more ancient history.
A-Um Rakt pled with his people to be calm, but a challenger arose in the delta, asserting the Sky Spirits favored her. These events sorely tried the rainbow-scaled visitors, and saddened them so much they announced their intention of leaving Ancestor's World. This they did in the forty- eighth year of the Great King's reign, saying that they left to explore further the mind of the Spirits in the Sky, but that some day, when the People had forgotten them, their descendants would return to visit. To such end they gave the King gifts of wonder, by which their descendants would know them. Then they left."
Etsane wiped the tears from her eyes. Such a sad way for the meeting of two peoples to end. And yet, while they had visited, the Mizari Lost Colony had helped the nascent civilization of the Na-Dina, a culture based like many from ancient times on the control of rivers and the building of great structures to enshrine their power. On Earth, such cultures were called "hydraulic civilizations," since the control of water was essential to the success of agriculture and feeding the many people who lived in the early cities. As in Dynastic Egypt, so here on Ancestor's World. Behind her, a voice spoke in Mizari, speaking it as a native.
"Does... do the glyphs tell where the Lost Colony went?" asked Lorezzzs.
"And what happened afterward?"
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"Esteemed Lorezzzs, they do not. But listen to the final chapter." She faced the bottom two rows of glyphs with dry eyes and finished a bright and shining story.
"Great King A-Um Rakt sorrowed at the leaving of the Sky Spirits, but told his People they must work hard, learn the ways of knowledge, and show devotion to Mother Sky and Father Earth, so as to please the Revered Ancestors. Perhaps then, the People could follow where the rainbow scales had gone. All the Temples and most of the People accepted his Words. The delta challenger was defeated. Great cities were raised. Great ponds were built. The annual floods were sent farther afield, to new lands where crops were grown, animals were herded, and wild game was captured, all to feed the Children of the World. Then, in the fiftieth year of his reign, Great King A-Um Rakt, Father to his People, went to join the Revered Ancestors. Here rest his mortal remains, cast loose upon the River of Life for his final journey in the Royal Barge. May he know the Ancestors. "
"Oh!" cried Sumiko, her voice strained. "What a glorious story."
Etsane turned around, facing her audience. The two Philosopher-Historians from the Temple of Records lay prostrate on the stone floor of the Royal Tomb, overcome with piety as they stared past her at the words she had unlocked.
Pokeel stared at Etsane, her expression satisfied. "It is as the Queen trusted.
The Sky Infidels ... no, the rainbow- scaled ones, they came to show Honor to the People. They were not the parents of the People, but instead, their aunts and uncles. We are grateful."
Astamari Mitchell beamed at her, his eyes wet. "Extraordinary, Etsane! You caught the poetry of their words as well as the key meanings. All the CLS
will honor you." Etsane sighed, feeling exhausted, then spoke somberly to her Teacher, to Mahree, and to all her colleagues. "That is nice. But what matters to me now, at this moment, is how I have honored my people the Amharas, and the memory of my father Mefume." Mahree nodded her understanding. Blinking fast, Etsane stared a moment at Natual, then 298
nodded at Hrashoi, Eloiss, Sumiko, Khuharkk', and all the others. "My colleagues, my friends, my Honor partner, you helped me feel accepted here. You gave unstintingly of your professional knowledge whenever I asked. I thank you." Then she faced back to Mahree. "Ambassador Burroughs, I hope you will agree to be my co-author on the long paper I must now write about this work."
"Of course I agree." Mahree's expression was as serious as hers. "But only as junior author. It was your work, your insight that cracked this, Etsane."
She turned away from them then, facing back to stare at the golden glyphs.
She did not want them to see her crying. Nor did she want them to see how she saw, in the glyphs she had decoded, the ghost of her father Mefume ...
smiling back at her.
At last, there was no longer a need to prove herself to him. She felt free. Free to have a personal life in addition to a great career. Would that life include Natural as a possible life-partner? There was no way to know.
But her career would ever be with her, just as the robes of her people and the gentle touch of her father were never gone from her.
Gordon turned over in bed and looked down at Mahree. Despite the passionate lovemaking they had shared only moments before, despite the joyous release they had shared, she looked lost, almost desolate.
The night air sighed in under the edges of his tent, cooling the sweat on his skin, and even the rumbles of quake aftershocks were muted, as if Father Earth was much pleased with Gordon's work among the Na-Dina. In the night sky, Mother's Daughter hung low on the western horizon, her white glow a pearly gleam that penetrated into his tent, illuminating his work table, the camp radio, his box of dig momentoes, the leather case in which he kept the pictures of his daughters, and the bed on which he and Mahree lay together.
"I love you," he whispered. It was the first time he had 299
said it straight out, apart from the murmured endearments while making love.
She turned over to look back at him, her dark eyes full of sadness. "And Hove you, Gordon."
He drew a deep breath. "But..." he continued for her, bracing himself to hear what he didn't think he'd be able to bear hearing.
"But I can't stay here. You know that," she whispered, her fingers tracing lightly over his sweaty shoulders, down across his chest to his flat belly. "I have to leave. Now that Khuharkk' is taking over as Interrelator, and Bill's murder is solved, my work here is done. I have to go back to my real life."
"No," he said softly. He leaned forward to kiss her, a long, slow, passionate kiss. He felt her immediate response. "Don't go. We're good together. We could ..." He swallowed, unable to force the words "get
married" out even when he tried.
She smiled at him. "Gordon. You have your life here, I have mine elsewhere.
I have a daughter, and my work. You have two daughters, and your work.
Our lives just won't mix, my love."
Pain smote him. Deep inside. Where the scars of the divorce had begun to heal thanks to Mahree's bright smile, her caring touch, her quick mind as they worked together on the mystery of Bill's murder and the glory of the Royal Tomb. He felt the scars begin to bleed again. "I... Mahree, how can you love me, yet leave tomorrow?"
She nuzzled closer to him, her breath warm against his chest. "How?
Because I love Rob also. He is the father of my child. And... I love Claire, and miss her so very much!" She choked, almost breaking down. "Gordon, I didn't plan for this to happen. I didn't expect it. But I found in you something I'd yearned for as a young girl, found with Rob, then lost. Now, I must try to refind it. I owe that to my family."
Echoes. The words echoed in his ears, the meaning came to his mind, but the sense of them, ah, that was too painful to grasp. "But I... I'm afraid I'll go back to drinking hard
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again. You were my support. You were the one who made me see I could move away from being bitter about the past. Stay with me. I need you."
Mahree reached out, hugging him close, so close her lips rested beside his ear. "I can't be your crutch." She held him as he flinched, trying to pull away.
Her comforting touch held him close. "You're a strong man, Gordon. You don't need me, or anyone, to be your crutch. But you do need one other thing, besides the memory of our love." Bitterness filled his mouth. She was going. Of that he had no doubt. But... at least she cherished the memory of their love. He kissed the top of her head, her forehead, then reached to cup her chin in his hand, pushing her face back enough so he could look deep into her tear-filled eyes. "For me, our love will never be just a memory." She flinched, but he held her chin, keeping their gazes locked. "What else do I need, Mahree, other than you?"
She smiled softly, leaned forward to kiss lightly his lips, then withdrew, though she rested her face in the cup of his hands. "You need your daughters here, Gordon. You need the family you once thought lost to you.
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