of his work, sorting, image-tabbing and storing. Before
him was a shallow box full of cloth sample bags con-
taining shards of pottery and other vessels removed
from a recently discovered midden in the northern
corner of the Giant's Shoulder site. Similar finds had
been made ever since the colonists began building or
tilling the land along the coast. Whatever the location,
unearthed pottery fragments showed a fondness for bul-
bous, organic shapes fabulously adorned with flora and
fauna. But those found on Giant's Shoulder were more
plainly decorated with curious symbols like raindrops or
stylised flames, usually drawn around small bumps and
nubs in the glazed surface. Oddly, most Uvovo Greg
spoke to expressed uncertainty about their meaning,
claiming that such symbols were not used on Nivyesta,
under the spreading canopies of Segrana.
So now the scholars and researchers had found a new
source of remains, either a pile of discards or a store that
had been wrecked in the cataclysm event that struck
Darien ten millennia ago. Greg was just starting on the
last bag of finds when there was a knock at the door. A
glance at the clock on the shelf made him realise how
long he had been working, and out loud he said,'(!oi le
in.'
The door opened and a middle-aged man in an
Earthsphere olive-and-maroon uniform entered.
'Doctor Cameron?'
'Indeed I am, and you must be Sub-Lieutenant Lavelle,'
he said, rising to shake hands. 'Good to know that the
Heracles can do without its junior officers - we must be
living in a state of impeccable safety and security!'
'Certainly feels that way, sir,' said the officer with a
smile. Then he saw what Greg was working on. 'If
you're busy I can come back another time.'
'Just now is fine, Mr Lavelle,' he said. 'Since our
exchange of messages yesterday, I've been looking for-
ward to showing a real xeno-specialist round the place.
I'm almost finished here anyway, so if you would follow
me ...'
'Please, call me Marcus.'
'Okay, you be Marcus and I'll be Greg,' he said as
they stepped outside.
Despite his composed air, Greg was truly excited at
being able to show off the site to a visitor from Earth.
The vee and the papers were full of profiles of non-
Human races, although the focus had settled on upright
bipeds like the Sendruka, the Henkaya and the
Gomedra. He was eager to find out how the temple site
and other Uvovo remains rated in the Human experi-
ence of other worlds and civilisations.
Briskly, he led the xeno-specialist Lavelle across the
flagstoned centre of the excavation, explaining on the
way that this was the roof of a large central structure
and that in all probability an ancient Uvovo complex lay
directly beneath their feet.
'Houses, rooms, galleries, outbuildings,' Greg said.
'Who knows what might be down there, carved out of
the rock? All we have to do is dig out ten thousand
years' worth of compacted biomass soil and countless
root networks. Just think of all the spades we'll go
through.'
They came to a halt before a tall wooden scaffolding
lashed here and there to a sheer stone wall covered with
relief carvings. The action of rainwater and plant
growth over the centuries had left veinlike grooves in the
stone as well as cracked and blank areas, but what
remained was breathtaking. An intricate intertwining of
images, trees, creatures and the Uvovo themselves filled
the lower part of the wall, while above the carven
jungle, hanging amid a starry sky, were several geomet-
ric shapes from which spine- and hook-like objects
rained down. Yet from the jungle mass thin shafts lanced
upwards, spearing through some of the invaders which
were depicted in pieces. Greg pointed out the details as
they climbed the scaffold.
'War in the heavens, Marcus,' he said. 'Uvovo legend
calls it the War of the Long Night, an epic struggle
between two groups of transcendent beings, the
Dreamless, cold and pitiless, and the benevolent, com-
passionate Ghost Gods on whose side the Uvovo, or
rather their protector Segrana, fought. Which is how
their sagas tell it.'
Lavelle nodded. 'Segrana, the living forest - is it true
that they believe it to be a conscious entity?'
'Yes, they do. Segrana is part of the web of life,
opposed to an antilife principle occasionally referred to
as the Unmaker . .. did you access the university files as
I suggested?'
'Yes, I did - your notes on the Uvovo sites are quite
extensive but I managed to pick up the main points before
leaving for Darien.'
'I see,' Greg said, feeling slightly nonplussed. 'Well,
I'll spare you the basic spiel then . . . oh, you know
about Ferguson's maps of Nivyesta and the first shuttle
missions?'
Lavelle nodded and took out a small flat grey unit
and patted it. 'I went over a summary of the colony's
history on my way down. You followed a very interest-
ing path to get where you are today.'
Greg laughed. 'You mean we were a capricious,
squabbling rabble!'
'Well, divergent and competitive,' Lavelle said with a
half-smile.
'Wouldn't you say that Earth's history since the
Swarm War has been at least as interesting?' Greg said.
'Explorers on other colony worlds must have uncovered
the remains of vanished civilisations as well as discover-
ing existing ones.'
'There are more historical parallels than you might
think,' Lavelle said. 'About sixty years ago we and some
of our allies joined the Sendruka Hegemony in their inter-
diction against the Jesme Aggregation because one of
their planet-clans was supporting insurgents within
Brolturan territory. Anyway, almost half of the Human
colonies were so opposed to it that they resigned from
the Earthplus Council, cut off all ties with the home-
world, and started calling themselves the Vox Humana
League. When the campaign ended a few years later,
some ties were restored but certain embargoes - on
weapons for example - remain in force to this day.'
Greg nodded. 'We've had our schisms as well. During
the New Town Secession, the Scots, Rus and Norj allies
formed armed camps against one another which caused
a lot of bitterness considering all the intermarriage and
cross-community links.'
'Yes, and the bitterness still affects policy decisions
decades later. The Vox Humana rebels continue to defy
Earthsphere sovereignty and refuse to play their part in
the Security Net, while malcontents on Earth and other
worlds launch public attacks on our coalition with the
Hegemony. But the fact is that it's a dangerous galaxy
out there and we have to stand by our true friends in the
face of the threat to our shared values. Anti-Sendrukans
I've got no time for.'
Shared values? Greg thought. It seemed like a strange
declaration to make, one he would normally have
latched on to and probed until its meaning became
clearer. But he decided to say nothing and let the man
talk.
'As for remains of vanished cultures, some colony
worlds have reported quite a few finds - habitable plan-
ets near the ancient centres and flows of galactic
civilisation usually provide some evidence of previous
occupation. As soon as major discoveries are made,
however, the sites are supposed to be opened up for
inspection by the Grand Commission for Antiquities
unless a commission signatory files an objection. In the
case of Darien, four have done so - four, which is almost
unheard of. Earthsphere was first to file under rights of
sovereignty and duty of care towards the Uvovo; the
Brolturans then filed their objections with the
Commission, claiming that the Darien system lies within
a tract of space promised to them by their god,
Voloasku, as explicitly written in the Omgur, their
divine scripture ...'
'Voloasku? So who's Voloasti? - I heard that men-
tioned by someone.'
'That's the supreme being of the Hegemony's ortho-
dox creed,' Lavelle said. 'Also supported by their version
of the Omgur which, for some reason, hasn't led to sim-
ilar claims.'
'You cannot be serious,' Greg said, laughing.
'I'm afraid I am,' Lavelle said. 'The third to object
was the Second Spiral Sage of Buranj, who claimed that
your temple's position on a jutting promontory exactly
matches the description of the tomb of the divine Father-
Sage Arksasbe. He also insists that the defiling presence
of non-believers ceases immediately.'
Greg stared at him for an astonished moment, then
leaned forward to gaze out at the worn walls and
columns, the Uvovo scholars working in a stepped
trench near the northern barrier and the Rus
researchers, who were patiently sifting dirt removed
from the test ditches over to the south. Then he looked
back at Lavelle, smiling.
'Unfortunately, Marcus, it doesn't look as though
these non-believers are likely to drop what they are
doing. And in fact, I think that my own non-devoutness
has actually deepened since learning of the esteemed
Second Spiral Sage's decree ... by the way, is there a
First Spiral Sage?'
'Oh yes, but he's far too devout to be sullied by tem-
poral matters.'
'But of course. So who filed the fourth objection?'
'The Hegemony. They argued that the Grand
Commission of Antiquities cannot carry out its work
until the conflicting claims of sovereignty and title have
been resolved. Accordingly, all four objectors have
appointed adjudicators and the first hearings will take
place soon.' Lavelle grinned. 'The whole process could
take two or three years!'
Greg smiled uncertainly. 'You seem very pleased
about all of this, Marcus, and I don't know why.'
'Well, if the Commission's inspectors had been
empowered to oversee this site, you and your people
would probably be prohibited from any excavation or
artefact-handling, on grounds of inadequate training or
the use of lo-tech instruments. But they haven't, which
means you can continue working here . . .' He paused.
'.. . and 1 can show you the location of the underground
chambers and their hidden entrance.'
Greg's thoughts jolted to a halt, and he stared at the
man. 'Wha ... what did you say?'
Lavelle glanced out at the site then went on in quieter
tones.
'Greg, the cornerstone of field archaeology is deter-
mining where the treasure is before you begin digging.
A researcher from, say, Planitia University would have
the equipment to make any number of subsurface scans
before breaking ground, but you don't have that
luxury. On the other hand, I have - I used Heracles's
sensor array to make focused scans of the interior of
Giant's Shoulder.' From an inner pocket he took a
folded sheaf of pages and gave them to Greg. 'These are
copies made yesterday and the day before - there's not
much fine detail but you can see the regular lines of the
buried temple complex and beneath it.. .'
Greg stared at several views of Giant's Shoulder, dig-
ital sweeps showing a vaguely block-shaped recess
extending about 60 metres down into the promontory,
just as he had speculated. And there, not far below, was
something circular - glancing between pages, contrast-
ing different views, it really did look like a chamber of
some kind, circular, perhaps 80 metres across . . .
He peered closer, sorted through the images, com-
paring two in particular, one of which seemed to show a
thready, fragmentary straight line leaving the mysterious
chamber and pointing south, while the other had a sim-
ilar line leading inwards from the southern face of
Giant's Shoulder, pointing north.
'It is what it looks like,' said Lavelle. 'It's an entrance-
way and a passage of some kind.'
Greg stared at the images with a burning intensity,
thinking about the sheer sides of Giant's Shoulder,
cracked and weathered rock faces veiled in tangles of
vine and half-dead root. Only experienced climbers
could safely traverse that kind of headwall, yet when he
mentioned this to Lavelle he laughed and nodded.
'Well, fortunately I am a qualified climber, so if you
need my help .. «'
Greg looked up. 'Is tomorrow too soon?'
'Hmm, I'm rostered on tomorrow morning - how
about in the afternoon?'
'That would be . . . perfect. Marcus, forgive me for
asking, but what do you have to gain out of this?'
Lavelle smiled thoughtfully, as if partly at his own
thoughts. 'I guess I could say it's about fame and recog-
nition - well, maybe that is part of it but mainly it's the
chance to explore an ancient hidden mystery never
before seen by Humans, to be the first to see it and
touch it! It's the fourteen-year-old in me, I'm afraid.'
'In that case, my fourteen-year-old salutes yours -
perhaps we should start a club.'
Laughing, the two men descended the scaffold lad-
ders, arranged for tomorrow, said farewells and parted,
Lavelle heading for the zeplin station, Greg hurrying
back to the cataloguing hut. On entering he noticed a
message tag on his workstation's screen, a black-and-
yellow one signifying a locked priority, the kind that
seldom contained good news. He keyed in his password,
read it through, and groaned. Then reread it, just to be
sure, and this time laughed drily. The message was from
the office of V. Petrovich, the Director of the Darien
Institute, informing Greg that tomorrow, at noon, High
Monitor Kuros - and his extensive entourage - would
be making a very official, very public visit to Giant's
Shoulder. Several hours prior to this, an officer from the
Office of Guidance and the commander of the High
Monitor's bodyguard would arrive to inspect the site
and ensure its security. Greg was to offer them com-
plete cooperation and full access to all areas and to all
personnel records. It ended with a pointed and direct
instruction, essentially a prohibition on his 'indulging in
any commentary or verbal wordplay that could be con-
strued as antagonistic or insulting'.
Greg smiled, shook his head. The director was an old
sparring partner and knew just what he was capable of,
a state of being not unlike that of the reporter, Lee
Shan .. . who, he realised, would almost certainly be
present tomorrow.
You wait and hope for a good audience to come
along, he thought, then suddenly it's there but you're not
allowed to perform.
Then he realised that he would have to postpone
tomorrow's exploration with Lavelle so, with a sigh, he
sat down at his desk and began composing a short mes-
sage.
1 2
ROBERT
The Earthsphere embassy was a modest, two-storey
townhouse near the centre of Hammergard, timber-
framed and part of a short terrace of commercial
properties and offices. Although the embassy staff had
only had the keys for four days, Robert Horst had
insisted that their public information desk was up and
running from day one. This was in stark contrast to the
Sendrukan Hegemony embassy, which was a villa in
walled grounds in an affluent district, and which was
reportedly refusing all requests and approaches.
Robert Horst was in a conference call with Deputy-
President Jardine and the opposition Consolidation
party's external affairs spokeswoman, Linn Kringen,
and trying to explain why there was little or no open-
ness from the Hegemony representative.
'. . . what you have to understand is that High
Monitor Kuros is not an official Hegemony ambassa-
dor,' he said to the faces on his desk screen. 'Officially,
Darien falls within the Brolturan sphere of influence, so
Kuros has to wait for the Brolturans to appoint their
own representative before taking on an ambassadorial
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