Seeds of Earth

by Michael Cobley

  But less than ten minutes later he was back outside,

  trying to calm down one of the Norj research teams,

  who had discovered an Earth reporter in their hut, open-

  ing drawers and recording everything in sight. In an

  effort to reach some kind of understanding, Greg gath-

  ered the senior reporters together with Olsen, Ingerson's

  colleague: the OG officer briefly outlined the case for

  security and propriety, and casually mentioned that the

  Ezgara commandos now patrolling the perimeter were

  very keen to ensure the Hegemony envoy's safety from

  any threat and were fully capable of doing so.

  At the mention of the Ezgara, glances were

  exchanged and Greg noticed a certain shared nervous-

  ness. Hmm, so they do have a reputation, he thought.

  Or should it be notoriety}

  After that it was a hectic rush to get ready for the

  presentation, to finalise the programme of events, nego-

  tiate a compromise between Andrei and the university

  ecologist who had turned up at the last minute, and

  arrange for some of the excavations to be roped off,

  since some reporters were still poking their noses where

  they shouldn't. In between all that he managed to meet

  some of the VIP guests, shaking hands and exchanging

  the usual pleasantries, and made sure that his mother

  and Uncle Theo knew where their seats were. At one

  point he caught sight of Catriona through the crowd,

  just after she had sent him a comm-note to let him know

  that she had arrived.

  Then came news that High Monitor Kuros had

  disembarked from his official zeplin and was about to

  ascend the cliffside path in one of the electric visitor

  cars. Greg alerted Catriona and Chel with prearranged

  signals and hurried over to the central plaza area.

  Catriona appeared seconds after he got there, looking

  tense in a formal, high-collared kirtle suit made from

  some dark brown ridge-textured material. After an awk-

  ward, smiling pause they shook hands, a clasp which

  Catriona seemed to break first - or maybe it was

  because he was holding her hand for a moment too

  long.

  'It's good to see you again, Catriona,' he said. 'I hope

  this PR exercise isn't interrupting your work the way it

  is mine, though I understand our guests specifically

  requested that you take part.'

  She gave a wry half-smile, tucked a few stray dark

  hairs behind one ear, at which Greg felt a tiny thrill. He

  kept smiling.

  'Well, I can't deny that there's other things I'd rather

  be doing,' she said. 'But they asked for me so here I

  am.'

  A thought occurred to him. 'You don't think it's any-

  thing to do with your Enhanced past?'

  'Why should it?'

  He shrugged. 'Perhaps they're curious about why the

  Enhancement project came about.'

  She regarded him. 'Hmm. Do you ever wonder why,

  Greg?'

  Before he could answer, the Uvovo scholar Chel

  arrived. He had an anxious, slightly jittery air about him

  but he seemed otherwise alert and ready for the task ahead

  so Greg launched into a summary of the programme.

  'Okay, this is the plan. The Underminister for Culture

  will give the official welcome to the Sendrukans and the

  other guests, then Catriona will deliver a short presen-

  tation on the early discoveries made here on Giant's

  Shoulder and later on Nivyesta. After that, I'll give an

  overview of the various archaeological sites and the

  main finds, and Chel will finish with the Uvovo per-

  spective on themselves and Humans, past and future.

  How does that sound?'

  Catriona nodded. 'I'm happy to lead off - gets it over

  with.'

  'I too am satisfied,' said Chel. 'I shall learn from both

  your performances.'

  Greg laughed. 'Good things, I hope.'

  After that, the demands of the occasion took over as

  all the guests went to their seats and Greg and the others

  waited by the low podium. Two of the peculiar Ezgara

  bodyguards came into view from the right, stalking

  through the ruins in advance of the Sendrukans.

  They were a tall humanoid race, and although he had

  seen shots of them on the vee, that did not prepare Greg

  for the impact of their presence. There were four alto-

  gether, three walking single-file behind the High

  Monitor who strode leisurely along with the

  Underminister for Culture marching briskly at his side.

  With a mean height of ten and a half feet, they were

  much taller than Humans, tall yet not spindly, their

  torsos broader and in proportion, and it was true - next

  to them, Humans did look almost childlike. Their attire

  was elegant, richly detailed and multilayered with semi-

  opaque, long-sleeved garments over stiff, almost

  breastplate-like inner ones - the three attending

  Sendrukans wore pastel shades of yellow, green and grey while the High Monitor was decked out in striking ultramarine blue counterpointed by magenta patterns and trim. Head-dresses there were, bulbous pale-blue ones with dangling tassels for the attendants, a tall, black, oddly helical one for their superior.

  As the Sendruka approached, Greg half-turned to Catriona and in a low voice said:

  'I'm glad you can stay behind - the new research data is fascinating.'

  'Just how fascinating?'

  'Sensor scans showing passages and chambers inside Giant's Shoulder.'

  She glanced sharply at him. 'Is that right? And how would you get hold of such information?'

  He shrugged. 'Let's say a little space-bird told me. Fascinated yet?'

  Her sharp look softened. 'Aye, okay.'

  Then they were face to face with Underminister

  Hansen and High Monitor Utavess Kuros. As Hansen

  introduced each of them in turn, the Sendrukan inclined

  his head and then, surprisingly, politely shook hands.

  Kuros's hands had a light tan hue and were large with

  long, slender fingers adorned with a few plain red rings,

  and a grip whose firmness matched Greg's. The High

  Monitor said little beyond expressing his pleasure at

  ^ being here and his anticipation of the event to come, all

  spoken in perfect, if accentless Anglic, his voice level,

  melodious, kindly. His face was broad, its features flat-

  ter than a Human's, with a high forehead and large dark

  eyes that seemed perpetually mournful or at least weary-

  wise. Despite his preconceptions, Greg found himself

  warming to the alien - it was an effort to remind himself

  of the AIs that shared these aliens' heads.

  The audience settled down as the High Monitor and

  his attendants reclined in their specially provided chairs.

  Underminister Hansen gave the official welcome from

  the podium before introducing Greg. Greg briefly

  explained about the three presentations, and finished

  with a quotation from Haakon Greig, one of the

  colony's early chroniclers: 'History has much to teach

  us, and occasionally resorts to beating us over the head

  if we don't pay attention.'

 
A light ripple of applause accompanied him from the

  stage. Then, as Catriona took his place, he noticed one

  of the Ezgara bodyguards patrolling a stretch of the

  temple rampart behind the audience, a sombre reminder

  of his earlier encounter.

  Cat was a little nervous and faltering to begin with,

  but she soon gained confidence as she gave a concise

  overview of archaeological discoveries since the colony's

  founding. A display screen, one of the new compact

  folding ones, was used to show locations and dates, then

  a couple of researchers brought out a few artefacts to

  pass round the audience. Greg smiled - the folding

  screen had worked first time, and no finds were dropped

  or broken. When she was finished the audience began

  applauding politely while remaining seated, but the

  Sendrukan Kuros got to his feet as if to accord her spe-

  cial approval. The other Sendrukans also rose, as did

  Greg, grinning widely as he clapped, glancing over his

  shoulder to see the rest of the audience following suit.

  At that very instant he heard an odd sound like some-

  one snapping their fingers close by. Out of the corner of

  his eye he noticed a figure falling backwards ... then saw

  it was High Monitor Kuros, his arms flailing. Greg

  thought in that moment that someone must have pushed

  him, but when one of the Sendrukan attendants moved

  to help there was another cracking sound and the atten-

  dant jerked and sprawled sideways, purplish blood

  blossoming from his neck.

  In a few seconds the orderly, polite audience was

  transformed into screaming, stampeding chaos.

  My Godl Greg thought, diving for cover. We're being

  shot atl

  He scanned the shambles of overturned chairs and

  stragglers making for sections of wall to hide behind, des-

  perately looking for his mother and Uncle Theo. He saw

  no sign of them but two of the Ezgara were there, as were

  the OG officers, shielding the High Monitor as the two

  surviving attendants struggled to carry him out of danger.

  'Greg! - over here!'

  Craning his head round he saw Catriona and his

  mother beckoning to him from the lee of a ruined wall

  which stretched almost unbroken to the site entrance.

  Reasoning that the gunman would be focused on the

  High Monitor, he steeled his nerve and dived across a

  patch of open ground to another mossy outcrop of

  stonework. From there he dashed to the long wall, join-

  ing his mother and Catriona.

  'Are you both all right?' he said.

  'We are fine, Gregory, fine,' said his mother. 'Such a

  disgrace that this should happen, and a shame on all of

  us! To think that there are still fools among us who try

  to solve an argument by picking up a gun. And Theodor

  is away to try and find whoever is ...'

  'Wait. Uncle Theo went looking for them?'

  His mother sighed and nodded. 'Still thinks he is

  thirty-five. Says it's part of his new responsibilities.'

  'Right, Mum, which way did he go?'

  'He said the shots came from the ridge overlooking

  the site . . .'

  Greg shuffled to the side, peering round and up at the

  mass of dense foliage and the treetops beyond.

  'Are you thinking of going after him?' Catriona said

  suddenly.

  'I am.'

  'Then I'm going with you.'

  Looking at her he saw that she was smiling a smile

  that said, Just try stopping me.

  'Two heads are better than one,' she added.

  'And certainly present a better target,' he said. 'Right,

  then, let's be off.'

  His mother shook her head again, this time in exas-

  peration.

  'Try not to be as foolish as my brother, will you?'

  16

  THEO

  The higher he climbed the denser the forest became,

  low-level branches and hanging vines intertwining with

  the humid undergrowth to form tangles of greenery he

  sometimes had to go round. Nor did it help that the

  ground grew increasingly uneven, weed-choked, strewn

  with fallen trunks, rotting branches and half-buried

  rocks. But despite the obstacles his sense of direction

  was unwavering - when that first shot hit the High

  Monitor, old reflexes made him follow a likely trajectory

  back into the thickly forested ridge, corroborated by the

  second shot which took down the Sendrukan attendant.

  So now Theo had the sniper's location pegged in his

  mind, a target he was homing in on. Of course, hunting

  for an armed assailant while kitted out with a cudgel

  improvised from a piece of branch probably wasn't the

  wisest course of action, but it was better than no action.

  He grinned, knowing what Rory and the others would

  have to say about taking risks at his age.

  Ja, gentlemen, was his imagined response. But I've

  learned bow to take such risks and stay alive!

  After another ten minutes of climbing over boulders

  and trudging across sloping, boggy ground, he reached a

  spot on the ridge where the tree cover thinned. Looking

  east he got a good view of Giant's Shoulder, the clusters

  of ruins and the boxy, grey-green huts and storage units.

  It was near here, he was sure of it.

  Keeping to cover, Theo surveyed the vicinity and

  soon noticed a denser mass of foliage not far away.

  Cautiously he slipped through the undergrowth towards

  it, realising that it was a jutting spur of rock swathed in

  greenery. He slowed to a wary approach, convinced that

  the gunman was long gone yet keeping his cudgel ready

  in case. The humid air seemed suddenly warmer, the

  sound of birds and insects fading as his own movements

  became amplified in his own ears . ..

  Crouching, he sidled between creeper-wound bushes,

  edged round a gnarled tree bole, and there it was, a

  sniper lair. The weedy grass was crushed flat in a long,

  narrow patch where the gunman had lain down and

  stretched himself out. And there, of all things, was the

  gun, a scoped Ballantyne rifle with a sculpted wooden

  stock, a weapon he recognised from personal experi-

  ence. Of the shooter there was no sign, no belongings,

  no leavings, nothing but the weapon and the impression

  in the grass. Squatting next to it he almost reflexively

  reached out to the rifle's stock but stopped himself.

  'Good idea, Major,' said a voice nearby. 'Wouldna

  want to get yer prints on it.'

  Theo stood swiftly and brought up his cudgel two-

  handed, only to see a familiar face looking out from the

  foliage. It was the special forces soldier he had met at

  Sundstrom's villa, Sergeant Donny Barbour if Rory's

  informant was right. He nodded and balanced the

  cudgel on his shoulder.

  'So,' he said. 'Business or pleasure?'

  Barbour gave a sardonic smile as he stepped into

  view. He wore core-brown camouflage which extended

  to the floppy hat and hunting gloves that hung at his

  waist.

 
'Got assigned to deep patrol,' Barbour said, hunker-

  ing down for a closer look at the crushed grass. 'Was up

  in a tree further back, scanning the surroundings, when

  our boy got his first shot off. Had a good idea where it

  must've come frae and was looking this way when he

  took his second. Next thing, he came running out of

  here like the hounds of hell were after him.'

  Theo stared down at him. 'So he just dropped the

  rifle and ran.'

  'Aye, Major - he didn't throw it off into the bushes or

  anything, just put it down, got up and breenjed out. He

  was moving at a good speed, too, didna trip or catch

  himself, just flew through those trees and all they vines

  and bushes like a ghost.' He got to his feet. 'Not a civil-

  ian, had to be trained. Could be a mountain-man,

  somebody from one of the trapper towns ... but that

  doesn't feel right. Why leave the rifle?'

  'Couldn't he be from an elite unit?' Theo said.

  'Maybe even one you don't know about.'

  'Top of my list,' Barbour said with a bleak smile.

  'Listen, Major, it's time we were both elsewhere - a

  couple of those Ezgara are heading this way and we

  don't want them getting any wrong ideas.'

  'How do you know?' Theo said, half-suspecting the

  answer.

  Barbour tapped his right ear. 'Got an obs link out

  among that audience. Now what you want to do is go

  back the way you came but carry on up over the ridge -

  your nephew and Miss Macreadie went that way. Might

  be wise to find them - safety in numbers.'

  He grinned and pointed to the gap in the bushes

  through which Theo had entered. But when Theo

  looked back round Barbour was gone with just a few

  leafy sprigs nodding in his wake. He chuckled to himself

  and retraced his steps, found a faint animal trail marked

  with recent shoe prints leading up towards the crest of

  the ridge. A couple of minutes later he reached it, then

  saw that the path led along a hillside to a steeper sloping

  ridge further on. Picking his way along he paused on the

  crest of the next ridge, overlooking a shadowy, tree-

  cloaked gorge, and listened to the sounds of the forest.

  Amid the rustles of tiny denizens and the sigh of fitful

  breezes, he could make out voices coming from further