The One-Eyed Man

by Modesitt,, L. E. Jr.

  Aimee pointed. “That’s where they’re working now.”

  A woman in a white singlesuit stepped forward out of the dimness to our left. Her red hair was cut short. “Executive Vanslo?”

  “Yes. This is Dr. Verano. He’ll be accompanying us.”

  “I’m Elaysan Civer, Dr. Barro’s assistant.” She looked to me. “Doctor … are you an archaeologist?”

  “An ecologist.”

  “I’m afraid we haven’t done much along those lines, although we have preserved and stored all past organic remnants, fossilized, of course. After a hundred and twenty million years, it’s fossilized or gone.”

  “I thought the site was some two hundred million years old,” I offered.

  “No, ser. We’ve done multiple datings.”

  A hundred twenty million years was long enough, I supposed, even as I wondered about the discrepancy in the Survey geologic records.

  “How much is here?” asked Aimee.

  “If the seismic maps are correct, the entire city—or town—was slightly more than a kay on a side. It was laid out as a square, but the vertices of the square were aligned, we think, to geographic cardinal points.”

  “To us, it would have looked like a diamond?” I asked.

  “Yes. We would have seen it that way from above, if we oriented on due geographic north. Follow me, if you would. Please keep your feet on the walkway.” Elaysan did something, and the lights in the roof above us went on.

  I almost froze where I was. Somehow, I’d expected a rough brick wall, or something dilapidated, but I felt as though an immense seagoing vessel was pointed at me, if such a vessel had a hull of bright violet. The part of the walls that showed above the grayish brown stone out of which they rose extended less than five meters and continued to the southeast and southwest some hundred meters before reaching the cavern walls. And they go on for another kay on each side?

  “Dr. Barro said we could go inside,” Aimee said pleasantly.

  “You can. So far, we’ve found nothing except the structure itself. Not a single artifact, unless there are some hidden in the walls.”

  “Is this typical of Builder (A) structures?” I asked.

  “It is similar, but only in a general sense. Dr. Barro is reluctant to classify it firmly.”

  “I was under the impression that each of the forerunner cultures differed greatly from each other. If this one is similar…”

  “You’d have to talk to the doctor about that.” She paused, then said, “We’ve excavated down around the north corner, but we’ll have to take the ramp to enter.”

  “No entrances in the side walls?” I asked.

  Elaysan shook her head, continuing to walk toward the ramp ahead.

  I didn’t press the matter about the forerunner cultures, but continued to study the walls as we walked up the ramp, solid enough that it didn’t shake under our steps, not in the slightest. When we passed over the wall, the lines were clean, and sharp. I’d been expecting something beyond the wall, but there wasn’t, except that the bright violet extended smoothly from the walls as far as I could see. Apparently, this part of the city had been roofed.

  “They covered everything?”

  “Not exactly, Doctor.” There was a hint of maliciousness in Elaysan’s voice. “Please look ahead.”

  I did. There was an oval structure rising out of the violet. I couldn’t tell how far back it was, but it was roughly twenty meters across the short dimension of the oval, and it wasn’t colored violet, but a shade of green I couldn’t determine.

  I thought I understood, then, but I let Elaysan explain.

  “The first archaeologists who excavated here didn’t immediately understand how the city was designed. Except for the periodic oval entrance areas, it was entirely underground, just as our cities are today.”

  “That makes sense,” offered Aimee.

  I tried not to swallow. It made sense, and it didn’t, and I wasn’t about to say a word.

  “You look surprised, Doctor,” observed Elaysan.

  “I am indeed.” I didn’t explain.

  She looked satisfied.

  As we neared the dark oval, I could see that every edge was gracefully rounded, in a way very similar to the way those buildings on the surface of Stittara were now. The green coloration of the synthetic stone—and it had to be a high-tech synthetic to have lasted so long—was close to the shade of the lichen/grass although it was hard to tell in the underground lighting. That made me even less happy.

  The opening to the ancient city was only some two and a half meters high but almost ten wide, suggesting that the inhabitants had been differently sized and shaped from humans.

  “Was there any form of door or gateway here?” I asked.

  “There are suggestions that they may have used some organic-based material, perhaps similar to composite, but whatever it was vanished long before it was rediscovered.” Elaysan handed each of us a headband with a lamp on it. “Inside, most passages are unlit. There are open shafts in places. So please stay away from the sides of the corridors. We will be taking the right-hand ramp once we go inside.”

  Once inside the entry building, I immediately felt more claustrophobic. The overhead was only a few decimeters above my head. The fact that the ramp and the corridor below into which we walked were almost a decameter wide didn’t help. Nor did the fact that the rust-colored walls and the violet floor and overhead seemed to soak up light. I wondered why, but then realized that, despite their shiny-looking surfaces, they reflected very little light.

  After less than a hundred meters, I suspected I’d seen enough. All that was left were empty chambers with low ceilings and overwide dimensions. As in Passova, the ancient forerunners had largely used ramps, but as Elaysan had warned, there were shafts in many places that might once have held the equivalent of elevators.

  “I’m afraid that it’s not nearly as interesting as it sounds to someone who hasn’t seen it,” our guide continued, “but so far it’s all been like this.”

  “How many levels down are there?” I asked.

  “In this part of the city, there are thirty. It appears as though it’s the same elsewhere, but we haven’t explored the southern part as much. It’s tricky there, because there’s an ancient fault that ran through or under the southern third.”

  “Is any of the city left there?”

  “Oh … yes. It’s as though it had been cracked into two sections.”

  “What is it made of?”

  “It’s a particularly good form of synthetic stone. The Unity Space Forces use something like it, but it’s frightfully expensive.”

  Great. So when we’re as extinct as the forerunners, when someone else comes along, all that will be left is the remnants of out-system fortifications and bases.

  We plodded on and, a good hour later, emerged through another ramp and oval exit.

  There a worn-looking graying man in another white singlesuit stood, waiting for us. He inclined his head to Aimee.

  She returned the nod. “Dr. Barro, this is Dr. Verano. He’s an ecologist.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you.” Barro nodded brusquely to me, then turned back to Aimee. “What do you think, Executive Vanslo?”

  “It’s impressive … in a depressing way. Are there any indications of technology or materials we might use?”

  “There are indications, but outside of the synthstone…” He shook his head. “It was stripped, I fear, one way or another, and then abandoned.”

  “Unless they used biologic technology,” I suggested. “That theory has been advanced.”

  Barro nodded. “It’s very possible. We’ve found some microscopic cellular fossils that are like nothing anyone has seen.” He shook his head. “But those fragmentary fossils won’t get you technology, biologic or otherwise.”

  “What about the local ecology around the building at that time? How did it get buried?”

  “It’s hard to say, but the mud that buried the site did preserve so
me vegetation that looks very much like the current lichen/grass. The color … I can’t say, but the structure…”

  “Was the site buried all at once?”

  “No. There was an initial layer of mud close to ten meters thick, like a flash flood deposit, but after that … it was just accretion over time.”

  I didn’t have much else to ask, and I listened as he and Aimee talked about the future of his work and what was necessary to keep the Antiquities Service from declaring it insufficient and claiming the site for the “good of the Unity.”

  More than a half stan later, we reentered the elevator.

  “You were rather quiet, Paulo. At one point, you looked like you’d been hit by a skytube,” said Aimee.

  “I think I was…” I broke off my words. I hadn’t meant to say that … or anything close.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s not at all what I expected.”

  “I’d seen private linkshots, but it’s not the same as being there.”

  “You’re right about that. I couldn’t have imagined what it was like.”

  “Did you learn anything that will help with your assignment?”

  “I think so, but I’ll need to check some historical records to be sure.” To provide documentary backup for what you already suspect is more like it.

  The front elevator doors opened, and we stepped out into the vacant area below the ramp.

  “What now?” I asked.

  “I need to see what security has discovered about our friend Gybl—and if he’s who and what he claims he is. I definitely have my doubts.” Her tone was sardonic. “You’ll have to wait. I’m sorry, but…”

  “I understand. You’ve been more than accommodating, and I can certainly change my schedule to fit what you need to do.” Not that I have any choice. But I still meant it.

  We were about halfway back to the security office, when a security type, wearing the Syntex maroon, naturally, walked toward us from the side corridor. “Executive Vanslo…”

  I frowned. Had I heard … I turned and looked to see a face that shouldn’t have been familiar, but almost was … not quite, but it was enough.

  I literally threw myself at him, just as he raised the black weapon in his right hand.

  Something jolted across the edge of my shoulder, just the edge, but the pain was so excruciating that my entire body stiffened and I crashed into him … and then … there was nothing.

  37

  I woke up looking at a very gray ceiling … and I instantly knew who’d shot me. Nothing like being jolted into awareness.

  A medtech was watching me. “Don’t move. You’ll hurt yourself.” She stood and touched a small console beside the bed on which I discovered I was lying.

  I also discovered I’d been stripped to my undershorts and covered with a sheet up to my chest … and my entire body throbbed. My entire right arm burned and tingled simultaneously, from the top of my right shoulder all the way down to my fingertips. I tried to move them. They did move, but that intensified the burning so much that it became almost unbearable.

  “Even little movements of that arm will hurt horribly,” the medtech informed me.

  “I just discovered that, but I wanted to see if my fingers worked.”

  “That’s good. It would have been better if you had waited.”

  In moments, Aimee stepped into the room and walked over to the bed, a bit stiffly, I thought. She also looked a shade less … crisp. She turned to the medtech. “If you’d give us some time.” Her words weren’t a request.

  The medtech inclined her head, then stepped out of the room.

  Aimee waited, then said, “I might owe you my life.”

  “I don’t think so. I might have given you time.”

  “You moved faster than I could have believed. If I didn’t know better…”

  “You already know that I’m who I am.” I never would have believed that just keeping in shape and practicing Juchai would get me mistaken for something I wasn’t and had never been. I hadn’t planned on paying these sorts of prices for male vanity. “You finished him off, didn’t you? Preconditioned defense responses?”

  “Sometimes … you’re really good, even when you can’t move. How did you know what he was so quickly?”

  “I realized that I recognized his face, and I shouldn’t have. There was no way he could have been a Syntex security guard. Where am I?”

  “In the main Syntex medical facility. Josef redlined the flitter. It was touch and go for a bit. If that nerver had been three centimeters closer to your heart … or if you weren’t in such good physical condition … the Survey Service would have needed another consultant.”

  “It was Sinjon Reksba, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes and no. We don’t know who he was. He has to be a replacement for the original Sinjon, a professional who’s been given a full makeover to match the original, including complete skin grafts in all the areas where DNA sampling takes place … or where the Stittaran samplers are programmed.”

  “Is he still alive?”

  “Yes, but it won’t help, not in the short term. He’s been programmed into amnesia. Being captured triggered it.”

  “All that’s almost prohibitively expensive. You’re playing for enormous stakes.”

  “I’m afraid so. That’s why I won’t tell you more.”

  “How long will I be laid up?”

  “Until tomorrow at the earliest.”

  “Are you considering turning the site over to the Antiquities Commission on your terms?”

  “We’ve considered it.” Aimee’s voice was neutral.

  “But you’re not about to consider anything like that until you’re certain that it contains nothing of commercial possibilities and that your other difficulties are resolved … or you have to in order to preclude a larger area of condemnation.”

  “That’s close enough.”

  “I don’t think you’re going to find anything commercial down there.”

  “It doesn’t look that way.”

  “But you can’t make a decision until everything’s been explored … or you’ll face an internal battle that will claim you gave something away.”

  Aimee smiled. “I did tell you that you were good already.”

  I got the message. “Thank you.”

  “You’re to stay here. You’re not to move until you’re told. You’ll have guest quarters here. You can leave tomorrow, if the doctor approves.” She paused. “Thank you. I mean it.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She smiled once more, a friendly warm expression, then turned and left.

  The medtech returned immediately. “You still aren’t supposed to move much.”

  “I understand.” And I really didn’t want to.

  Another hour passed before she let me sit up.

  I’d hoped to see Aimee again, just to see if I could find out more, but I didn’t. I received very kind treatment, a small but very well-prepared evening meal, and well-appointed guest quarters. And I did have to sign a standard confidentiality agreement, but only regarding the forerunner site, which I found interesting.

  Before I left on fourday, the Syntex doctor was very clear.

  “You’ll feel like you’re on edge for a few days, maybe a week. You’ll be tired, and you may have trouble sleeping. Stay away from stimulants or depressants. Try not to take another jolt, even from a standard stunner. Your system won’t recover fully for a good month. Another nerve jolt of any kind in the next week or so might trigger partial paralysis … or worse.”

  I knew exactly what he meant, but the fact that he even considered I might be in a position to be stunned was anything but reassuring.

  “That’s right. It’s unlikely, but it could be fatal.”

  That was all I needed to know. I could be stunned … and die. That left me feeling even more on edge when I left Syntex behind the antiquated steering wheel of the Survey Service van.

  I’d already contacted Aloris late the
day before telling her that matters at Syntex had taken longer than I had expected. I’d also rescheduled my meeting with GenArt to the following oneday, and leaving Syntex at just after midday meant that I wouldn’t get much done when I returned to Passova.

  As I drove northward on the permacrete highway, I couldn’t help but think over what I’d learned at the forerunner site and what had happened afterward. The fact that the ecology was similar enough to the present, and the fact that what had been exposed to the elements had been shaped to deal with winds—120 million years earlier—offered some unsettling possibilities. I needed to see if the historical records—and Geneil Paak—could either support or reject my tentative thesis.

  38

  Although I’d hoped to do some work when I got back from Syntex, the doctor had been right. I was tired, and I just checked the van in and went to my temporary guest quarters, where I used the inadequate synthesizer for a small dinner, and then went to bed. I did sleep, if periods of unconsciousness punctuated by the same nightmare of being nerved by a faceless security type in maroon qualified as sleep, and woke up early on fiveday, somewhat less exhausted.

  I was in my Survey office early, even before Aloris or Raasn, because I wanted to link to Belk Edo at RDAEX. He didn’t take my call immediately, but returned it less than fifteen minutes later.

  “Dr. Verano, what can I do for you?”

  “I had some general questions about aerial and upper atmospheric sampling.”

  “Yes.” His tone was absolutely neutral, as was his facial expression.

  “I’ve gone over the sampling reports filed with the Survey, and it appears as though there has never been a successful sampling anywhere close to a skytube, at least in the atmosphere. How successful have you been in sampling above them?”

  He didn’t answer me, just looked pleasantly at me from the screen.