by Dan Worth
‘Sorry Rekkid, sometimes I forget that you’re not one of us.’
‘I think I’m flattered. I think… I suppose I have gone native rather after all these years,’ he said and then turned his attention back to the revolving panorama outside as if in contemplation. Katherine broke the silence after a moment:
‘We should be going,’ she said. ‘I don’t know about you but I could use some breakfast before this meeting we’re supposed to be attending.’
‘Hmm, you know one of the other reasons I came down here was to try and cure my nausea from this bloody place whirling round and round. I thought if I stared at this scene long enough I might get used it.’
‘And?’
‘Didn’t work,’ Rekkid answered hurriedly. ‘I think I’m going to throw up if I stay here any longer.’
He got up hastily and staggered to the door.
The long, well lit room was dominated by the wooden conference table, its dark, polished surface reflecting the faces of the various persons seated around its gracefully curving edges. At its head, the stern figure of Admiral Cox sipped his morning coffee and frowned at something on the data-pad he was perusing. The salt and pepper moustache on his dark brown face wrinkled as he did so. To his left sat Rekkid and Katherine. Rekkid had regained some of his composure, having been forced by his colleague to consume a full fried breakfast. She treated his expression and occasional mutters of complaint with amusement. Opposite them sat another figure. He too, was an archaeologist.
Doctor Reynaud was well known to both Rekkid and Katherine as a professional rival and darling of the media, given to publicly rubbishing his opponents and making sensationalist claims in the popular press which had even resulted in him presenting his own documentary series’ about some of the wilder ones. His finely sculpted features regarded the pair opposite with an expression of mild disdain and amusement.
‘Well, well,’ he finally said, his cultured tones carrying a hint of his French accent. ‘Whatever are you two doing all the way out here? After being absent from the public eye for so long, I was starting to believe that you had both given in to the inevitable and found some other profession.’
‘It’s so nice to see you again Henri,’ replied Katherine. ‘I’d forgotten just how charming and witty you can be.’ She gave him an icy smile.
‘Well one tries. Really Katherine, it is a pleasure to see you again. But I can’t understand why you persist in working with Professor Cor. His reputation is hardly pristine. If you and I were to work together you could go so much further than you have. You know I’ve been commissioned for another series?’
‘Congratulations,’ replied Katherine, unimpressed. ‘What is about this time, Atlantis? How little green men built the pyramids? Wait, no you did that one…’
‘Katherine, it is well known that the Arkari probably visited Earth in our ancient history. It is not inconceivable that the peoples of that time would have perceived them as gods.’
‘“It is well known. Probably. It is not inconceivable.” Could you have got any more qualifying statements into that sentence?’ said Rekkid. ‘You always did come out with the most sensationalist, unsupported theories. What a load of rubbish.’
‘My readers would disagree. You know, my last book was the biggest selling popular historical work across the Commonwealth last year? Let me see, how many devoted readers do you both have to absorb your most enlightening theories? Oh wait, neither of you have published anything for around three years, and let me see… the last thing either of you produced was ridiculed by all who read it as I seem to recall. Something about there being an ancient Arkari civilisation that somehow had been lost to everyone except yourselves all this time. Who’s writing about Atlantis now, eh Katherine?’ He cocked an eyebrow at her and chuckled at his own remark.
‘The Arkari would appear to think otherwise, Henri,’ said Rekkid. ‘We’ve been busy re-classifying our ancient artefacts ever since Katherine and I made our discovery.’
‘Is that so?’ replied Reynaud. ‘I have seen no evidence of such work.’
‘Well, why would they tell you?’ said Katherine. ‘You’d only turn up five minutes later with a recording crew and annoy the hell out of them before claiming credit for yourself.’
‘I detect a hint of jealousy at my popularity. What can I say? I work well with the visual medium.’ As if to emphasise the point he brushed a hand through his neat, thinning hair. ‘You might want to consider such a move yourself my dear,’ he continued. ‘If you scrubbed up a little and stood in front of a camera I’m sure the public would love you.’
‘Nice,’ replied Katherine. ‘I’d rather I was recognised for my work, if it’s all the same to you.’
Reynaud shook his head in an exaggerated expression of disappointment.
Admiral Cox cut in. ‘When the three of you have finished denting one another’s egos I’d like to get down to business,’ he said, his booming voice silencing the bickering academics. ‘I have no time for professional rivalry between the people working for me. We have a job to do and I will not stand for such attitudes. Doctor Reynaud is heading up the archaeological side of our operations. Professor Cor and Doctor O’Reilly, you will assist him in whatever way possible. Now, if I might brief you both as to the task at hand. Henri, I apologise if you’ve heard all of this before, but it is necessary that our new arrivals be brought up to speed.’
‘We’d appreciate that Admiral,’ said Rekkid. ‘Katherine and I are a little in the dark as to what all this is about.’
‘Unfortunately a certain amount of discretion was necessary,’ Cox replied. ‘However, to cut to the chase: six months ago we uncovered what we believe to be a Progenitor vessel. We were hoping with your previous experience of this ancient species that you might be able to tell us more about them. Some of the artefacts we have here would appear to have writing on their surfaces, which you might be able to decrypt… We’d ah… we’d be most interested in the technological possibilities that might arise from any knowledge we might acquire from them.’
Katherine took a deep breath. ‘Although the prospect of investigating a Progenitor vessel fascinates me, with all due respect Admiral, neither Rekkid or I are interested in helping you build better guns for the military. Our research will be of a purely historical nature. He and I have fallen foul of this kind of scenario before. I seem to recall that last time we uncovered Progenitor technology you people managed to start a war over it.’
‘A war which the Commonwealth won, Doctor,’ Cox replied. ‘And it isn’t just weapons technology we’re interested in. What about medical advances, energy sources, new methods of communication or computer technology? The Commonwealth has proven itself to be a major new power in this galaxy during the war. We must seize every opportunity to build our future among the stars, without reliance upon elder races who have kept us in the dark and who have kept their technology from us for too long as though we were children who could not be trusted with their adult toys. No offence Professor.’
‘None taken, I assure you; they tend to treat me the same way since I decided to stay in the Commonwealth. We still have our doubts though,’ Rekkid replied.
‘Perhaps if I were to show you some of the pieces? I have a selection with me here,’ said Cox and went to a locked metal cabinet in the corner of the room. From it he produced a large strongbox which he carried to the table and opened with an electronic key. Inside the padded interior lay a number of small shards. They were fragments of black crystal whose surface reflected light with a dull, oily sheen. Cox placed the objects in the centre of the table. Katherine and Rekkid regarded them with intense interest.
‘Well, what do you think?’ said Reynaud. ‘They are fascinating, are they not?’
‘Very,’ said Katherine as she regarded the shifting hues on the surface of one of the items. There seemed to be regular patterns within its depths. It did look like writing.
‘We have hundred or so more. These were found around the vessel
. We believe they broke off when it crashed,’ said Cox. ‘We’ve got enough Progenitor material here to keep you busy for months, years even. Have you seen the writing inside the crystals?’
‘They weren’t made by the Progenitors, I can tell you that much,’ said Rekkid.
‘Are you quite sure?’ said Reynaud. ‘We have analysed a number of these objects and they appear to be of the correct age.’
‘I’m sure they are of the correct age,’ said Rekkid. ‘But the writing on this... whatever it is,’ he picked up a slim shard with jagged broken edges, the light catching the characters etched within it. ‘It isn’t the Progenitor language we know. The characters aren’t the same. It’s a totally different script.’
‘Can’t you read it at all?’ said Cox.
‘Unfortunately not, no,’ said Rekkid. ‘I’d need some sort of key or primer. Without that it’s indecipherable.’
‘But if the Progenitors didn’t make these artefacts, then who did?’ Cox continued.
‘Difficult to say,’ said Katherine. ‘The Progenitors may have been the dominant galactic power five billion years ago, but there were many other races around at the time. Unfortunately, we have little information on most, save for what scraps we’ve gleaned from Progenitor records.’
‘You mean the entity you claim to have encountered,’ said Reynaud.
‘Entities,’ corrected Katherine. ‘Yes, Varish and the personality that inhabited the Maranos portal did give us some information, as well as what parts of the copy of Varish’s memories that the Esacir have managed to decipher so far.’
‘Which have never been corroborated, largely because when Commonwealth research teams gained access to the portal device they found nothing except corrupted data in its memory banks, leading them to conclude that the device had in fact been activated accidentally. Your ‘entity’ was completely absent.’
‘Good,’ said Katherine. ‘That’s because Varish killed him, and then used the portal himself to leave this galaxy for good.’
‘All very convenient,’ Reynaud scoffed.
‘Alright, thank you!’ Cox snapped impatiently. ‘In that case Doctor, Professor, determining the origins of these artefacts will also fall into your remit. Especially since Henri here claimed that they were in fact created by the Progenitors. It would seem that he needs your help more than he realised,’ he added drily.
‘Admiral, it would a great help to us if we could see the location where these artefacts were found. It would give us a better insight into their purpose and origins as well as perhaps a more accurate assessment of their age,’ said Katherine
‘I’m afraid that is impossible,’ said Reynaud. ‘The original site where the artefacts were found is off limits. Only those with proper authorisation may visit it.’
‘Yes, thank you Doctor,’ said Cox, his voice bearing more than a trace of irritation. ‘But I was about to inform our two newest team members that I have arranged for the correct clearance to be granted to them to allow them to visit the dig site and participate in the excavation.’
‘But Admiral, are you sure they can be trusted with this information? I was led to believe that I and my team would be granted exclusive access rights to the dig site.’
‘Professor Cor and Doctor O’Reilly are now part of that team Henri. I summoned them here so that they could assist us and they have the highest civilian security clearance on projects of this nature. You will have to put your professional rivalries aside for the moment.’
Reynaud fell silent. He folded his arms across his chest and fumed.
‘In short, we have discovered what we had believed to be a Progenitor vessel on the surface of the moon below. Obviously this find is of immense scientific and historical importance and represents an incredible opportunity for us as an interstellar power.’
‘Is the ship intact?’ Katherine asked.
‘Largely intact, yes.’
‘Forgive me for asking Admiral,’ said Rekkid. ‘But isn’t this system a little young to be harbouring relics of that age? It’s far too young by a margin of nearly four billion years. To be honest I was expecting you to tell me that the artefacts had come from another system. If you ask me, this casts further doubt on your assumption of the origins of these objects.’
‘If I might shed a little light on the subject,’ said Reynaud. ‘We have dated the wreck and it is of the correct age, as are these objects as I already explained. It seems possible that the ship was drifting before it was dragged in by the gravity of the newly formed system and crashed onto the moon below us. We found it half buried in a vast lava plain of recent origin. Quite how it survived the crash landing and the heat of the molten lava we don’t know, but it appears largely intact so far as we’ve excavated it.’
‘It is important that you both realise that this is a military operation,’ said Cox. ‘As such, until further notice any information pertaining to it is to be regarded as classified, is that clear?’
‘Absolutely,’ said Rekkid, his face a deadpan mask. However, Katherine caught his eye and could tell that her friend’s curiosity had been well and truly piqued. The twinkle she knew so well was clearly visible to her in those dark, glassy orbs.
‘Excellent,’ said Cox. ‘I hope we can work well with one another. There are just a few formalities, paperwork and whatnot, aside from that if you can be at number sixteen shuttle dock at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Oh and just one other thing. Do either of you have experience of wearing environment suits?’
‘Yes,’ the Katherine and Rekkid replied in unison, a note of dread creeping into Rekkid’s voice.
‘Very good. Professor Cor, we will do our utmost to find you a suitable suit to match your Arkari physiology.’
‘Even a pair of gloves with the right number of fingers would be nice.’
‘Of course. I’ll see what I can do. Henri of course will be accompanying you to the dig site. He’ll brief you fully once you arrive. I’m sorry I can’t provide you with much information before you arrive, but I’m sure you appreciate the importance of discretion.’
There was a murmur of agreement from around the table.
‘Then if there are no further questions that will be all. Good day.’ Cox gathered his notes and briskly left the room, leaving Reynaud to clear away the artefacts he had shown them. The archaeologist held one of the shards and turned it over thoughtfully in his slender hands.
‘Imagine,’ he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. ‘Imagine what secrets we might uncover for the benefit of humanity. What secrets the ancient races of this galaxy might give up for our benefit? Think of the knowledge we could unlock Katherine!’ he said and looked directly at her. Rekkid rolled his eyes. ‘Work with me,’ he continued, ‘and I guarantee that you will share in that success. Think about it.’ He placed the object back in the box with the others, locked the container then started to leave the room. As he reached the door he turned back to her and as his parting shot said: ‘I know you’ll make the right choice.’
When Reynaud was safely out of the room Katherine turned to Rekkid, whose face was a mix of disgust and amusement.
‘Don’t,’ she said.
‘I think someone is taking more than a professional interest in you.’
‘Shut up.’
‘I know you’ll make the right choice,’ said Rekkid, parodying Reynaud’s accent.
‘If you think for a second that I’d ever…’
‘Don’t worry I won’t get in the way. It’ll give me an opportunity to study the courtship rituals of the human species.’
‘Oh, sod off.’
Rekkid simply laughed and started to pack away his things.
‘Another mysterious alien wreck, eh Rekkid?’ said Katherine.
‘Yes. It seems the Commonwealth have found something interesting, even if it isn’t a Progenitor ship. I hope Reynaud’s right you know, I really do. I’m just not so enthusiastic about his motives, or those of Admiral Cox.’
‘We do hav
e a way of finding trouble, don’t we?’
‘We certainly do. Come on, we’ve got a day to kill. Let’s explore the delights of this grotty little station.’
Chapter 7
Whatever the original name for the asteroid base was, human pilots and traders had long since nick-named it ‘The Labyrinth’ and the name had stuck. Apparently, even the Nahabe themselves had even started to use the name their own whispering language, an unusual step for a race so suspicious of outsiders. The base itself consisted of a linked series of hollowed out asteroids and modules floating in the Trojan Lagrange Point in the wake of the gas giant Nereki in the Quralish system on the borders of the bubble of space claimed by the reclusive Nahabe. The Labyrinth had been built as a trading post between the Nahabe and the other species in the region, the Commonwealth included. It had been placed here so as to be convenient for the Nahabe traders, but it was far enough away from the inhabited second planet that prying sensors trying to catch a glimpse of an outlying Nahabe world would be unable to do so, or at least could be discreetly jammed.
Similar bases lay in other systems along the border of Nahabe space, allowing them to trade with other races, but without permitting outsiders to penetrate any further into their territory, thus enabling the Nahabe to participate in galactic affairs, whilst at the same time keeping the very same galaxy at arm’s length. A few pilots had tried to slip into the region, of course. Most were simply chased down by Nahabe patrol ships and escorted out of the region with stern instructions not to return. Others were never seen again.
As the flow of trade to and from the base had increased, it had grown to accommodate the increased traffic, expanding into a jumbled mass of rocks, modules, gantries and dockyards that covered almost fifty cubic kilometres and had resulted in the haphazard structure acquiring the nickname it now bore.
The Profit Margin moved smoothly through the busy traffic flowing to and from the base along its own assigned vector, before slipping into dock number eighty-seven. It alighted between a slender Xeelin corvette and the ponderous shape of human salvage tug that currently lay in pieces on the deck as its crew attempted to repair its drive section. A few of the weary looking salvagers gave the sleek new arrival jealous looks as it alighted gracefully beside their battered ugly craft with a descending whine of AG motors.
