Ancestor's World (2 page)

"Wonderful things, Khuharkk'."

Gold gleamed brightly inside the tomb. The sunlike sheen of gold lay everywhere. It covered the chamber's

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circular wall, where gold foil had been applied to the carved stone glyphs of First Dynasty Na-Dina, an undeciphered ideoglyph language. It shone from the ceiling, where blue paint and golden circles pictured the heavens above Ancestor's World. It sparkled on the floor, where funerary objects lay scattered, as if the honored attendants who'd served the First King had stepped away only for a moment. But what gleamed most brightly, most brilliantly, lay in the middle of the dark-shadowed chamber.

The sarcophagus of the King.

Shaped like the Royal Barge that even today sailed the muddy brown waters of the River of Life, the great river beside which Na-Dina civilization had grown up, the sarcophagus of King A-Um Rakt had been fashioned from gold. And not gold foil, either. It must weigh hundreds of pounds, Gordon thought. He mentally converted that to kilos, then stubbornly thought again of pounds, because he'd been born and raised in the Smoky Mountains of east Tennessee, where many humans still clung to old ways.

"By God, now they'll respect me," he growled in a voice almost as guttural and harsh as his assistant's. "I-- we are going to be famous, Khuharkk'! As famous as Schliemann, Emerson, Alva, and Finder-of-Knowledge of the Heeyoon."

"May I see, Professor?" Khuharkk' was fairly quivering with eagerness.

Gordon smiled to himself, recalling the excitement of his own first dig, twenty-five years ago. He looked over his shoulder and into the violet eyes of his Simiu assistant. "Sure. Come. Come look at eternity!" He waved the alien youth forward.

What Khuharkk' saw made his neckfur stand on end, and his tufted tail rise up. Gordon also noticed how the Simiu's lips pulled back, revealing long, deadly canines. As the youth peered into the hole, his dark orange and red streaked bodyfur fluffed out even more, making him look much larger than he was. Finally, his assistant pulled back and turned to face him.

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Khuharkk's eyes shone. "It... it's ... oh, Professor! Wonderful! It's wonderful!"

"It sure the hell is," Mitchell agreed, grinning broadly. "Hey, Khuharkk', still think you want to be just an Interrelator for the CLS? You could go full time as an archaeologist after this dig!"

The Simiu sighed. "Maybe I will. That's what Professor Grey shine wants me to do."

Khuharkk' moved forward again, this time poking his muzzled face all the way through the hole, sneezing a little as the influx of fresh air into the ancient chamber brought with it some of the dust that hung in the tunnel. The alien's shoulders stiffened. "Professor? Move the torch to the right!"

Gordon did as requested, moving up closer to Khuharkk'. "What's the matter? Don't tell me it's been looted?"

"No!" Khuharkk' said, sounding incredulous. "Something else. Something I...

I don't believe it! Look down ... low on the floor, at the foot of the stone bier on which rests the sarcophagus." The Simiu backed out of the way.

Squeezing his eyes shut against the fall of mortar dust, Mitchell poked his head through the hole in the wall, squirmed to bring the hand torch inside, and swept its yellow beam downward. The better angle revealed something he hadn't seen when first he'd peered into the chamber. Something else besides gold gleamed inside, but it shone vibrant purple.

Shining like dark amethysts were an incised, jewel- studded sphere; a narrow, fluted drinking vessel; and a small, boxlike shrine. All three items lay on the floor at the foot of King A-Um Rakt's sarcophagus. They shone so brightly because they were made of purple metal, and because they did not belong here.

Dear God, they're Mizari artifacts!

Specifically, a Constellation Globe, a Sacred Shrizzs and a Star-Shrine lay at the foot of the alien being who, six thousand years ago, had begun the march of civilization for the Na-Dina people. But these objects had been made by reptilian, limbless Mizari, the founders of the Cooperative 7

League of Systems. The CLS was the alien-run league that humanity had received full membership in nearly three years ago.

The Lost Colony! How else could these things have been here for six thousand years?

Long ago, a group of ancient Mizari had left their home- world, turned their starships toward the starry depths, and departed for worlds unknown to their current descendants. A year or so ago, the archaeological world had experienced a brief flurry when the eminent Heeyoon archaeologist Greyshine had reported a Star Shrine discovered at the Lamont Cliffs, near StarBridge Academy.

But that "find" had turned out to be a hoax, though it had, in its turn, led to a landmark discovery when the Ancient Dais was uncovered in an adjoining tunnel deep within the body of the little asteroid. Studies of what culture had created that artifact were still ongoing.

But this Star Shrine could not possibly have been planted. This tomb had lain undiscovered since it had been sealed millennia ago. Mitchell felt his head swim from more than the ancient air.

"They're Mizari, correct? Could they possibly be authentic?" growled Khuharkk' in awed tones.

"Hang on a second," Gordon muttered, scanning the remainder of the round-walled chamber. Pottery bowls, bronze vessels, sheaf-scrolls and daily life objects also lay on the floor. Finally, he forced himself to pull back and relinquish the sight.

When he faced Khuharkk', the Simiu's violet eyes shone as brightly as the artifacts. Gordon nodded. "Yes, Khuharkk'. From what I can tell without testing them, they're genuine Mizari relics. Must be from the Lost Colony. No other Mizari of that time traveled so far away from the Known Worlds. You know what this means, don't you?"

Khuharkk' fingered the pockets of his vest-jacket, hung about with small implements of their trade. "This means that the Mizari will support us in getting increased funding, right?"

Gordon nodded. "This is the find of the century, lad.

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The Mizari Archaeological Society is going to shit bricks over this."

Khuharkk's brow furrowed. "Shit... bricks?" he repeated slowly. "An idiom, sir?"

"Sorry, son." Mitchell found himself grinning wildly. "I meant that they're going to be very, very, VERY excited and really eager to help us out!"

He leaned back against the tunnel's cool stone wall, feeling like Heinrich Schliemann had when he unearthed the golden treasures of Mycenae. "Now we can get some large- scale help."

"We certainly need it," Khuharkk' said somberly, staring at the hole in the wall.

"Damn right," Gordon said bitterly, recalling again their impossible task. This Royal Tomb, other side canyon tombs, the nearby City of White Stone, and thousands of other Na-Dina ruins would be flooded when the Nordlund Combine engineers finished building their dam. Bigger than Earth's Aswan High Dam, the giant rampart would block the River of Life, create a lake three hundred forty miles long by fifty miles wide, and inundate the upriver canyons.

The Modernist faction of the Na-Dina considered the loss of their ancient heritage a fair trade for the hydroelectric energy that would power new factories, mills, and cities. The Traditionalist faction had deplored this, but they weren't in power. All they'd been able to do was send out a request for an archaeologist to help. Gordon Mitchell had responded with a small field crew of two assistants and a pile of thirdhand survey and excavation equipment.

When he'd first reached Ancestor's World seven weeks ago, he'd hired twenty local laborers and set to work in Ancestor's Valley, where a score of dynasties had buried their Kings and Queens in tunnel-tombs cut into the canyon walls. It was a job to challenge even the resources of a great university---and all Gordon had was Khuharkk' and Sumiko Nobunaga, their Japanese Lab Chief. Plus the meddling claws of Beloran, the Na-Dina Liaison whose job it was to keep an eye on Gordon, his dig, and his discoveries.

Khuharkk' looked down the tunnel toward the distant

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entrance, then back to Gordon, his expression worried. "Will we have enough time to dig everything before it's all flooded?"

"Time?" Gordon sighed and sifted ancient brown dust through his fingers.

"No. Not to dig everything. But this discovery is bound to buy us extra time.

We'll be able to properly excavate this chamber, and most likely the other tombs in the side canyons. With luck, we'll get through most of the City of White Stone."

"We'll need a specialist to analyze these Mizari relics."

"You're right. We're going to need a lot of specialists, in almost every field.

But this"---he waved a callused, scarred hand at the opening in the tomb wall--"will bring them. Archaeologists can't resist the lure of an unplundered tomb."

As he finished speaking, he saw Khuharkk's ears prick up; then the sound of a distant footfall reached him, too.

Gordon gestured at the autocam, and the Simiu obediently turned it off with a wave of his hand.

"We'll also need time to negotiate the political minefields on this world,"

Mitchell said under his breath. "Nordlund won't take kindly to delays. This discovery is going to make Project Engineer Mohapatra very unhappy." He grinned unpleasantly. "I just wish I could see his face when he hears."

His display of teeth made Khuharkk's mane ruffle up; then the Simiu relaxed.

"Doctor Mitchell, I just had an idea. Why don't I call Professor Greyshine at StarBridge? That way, even if Beloran ties us up in bureaucratic tangles, we'd still have the word out in the proper circles. Help would be standing by."

"Good idea." Gordon listened closely as the scrabbling footfall neared the dogleg angle in the tunnel, after which they'd be in sight of their visitor. They had only a few moments of privacy left. "Go ahead. Record a message and have Bill fly into Spirit and use the FTL transmitter at his embassy."

"I'm sure he'd be delighted to do it," Khuharkk' said. "He's been almost as interested in this dig as we are."

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Bill Waterston was the CLS Interrelator assigned to Ancestor's World. Bill and Gordon had come in on the same ship together, and both of them had struggled ever since to deal with the Nordlund Combine, whose Project Engineer had arrived ahead of any CLS official. Gordon liked the earnest young man. Bill had been a big help in cutting through Na-Dina bureaucracy in the capital city of Spirit, and, when his schedule had permitted, he'd been quick to grab a spade and help out with the excavation.

Now the young Interrelator would have to deal with the cultural, historical, and political complications this discovery of alien artifacts was bound to generate for the intensely private, almost reclusive Na-Dina.

Khuharkk' nodded, a gesture he'd picked up from humans, as the footsteps rapidly approached. As Gordon had suspected, the newcomer was Beloran.

The Na-Dina stopped a few meters from them. Another tremor quivered the ground beneath him, and he steadied himself on his tail. The beam of the light-globe he was carrying swung a little, then steadied as the tremor eased away. Water sloshed in the canteen slung over his shoulder.

Blinking deep black eyes, Beloran looked beyond them at the holed-through tomb wall, then glared at Gordon. "You broke through," he said in sibilant High Na-Dina. Gordon heard the translation via his voder earcuff. "Why did you not call me? I should have been present."

Gordon stood up, brushed dust off his coveralls, and shrugged. "I tried to," he lied. "The com signal must have been blocked by the rock." Running his tongue over cracked lips, he stretched out a hand. "Hey, thanks for bringing water."

"Blocked?" Absently, the Na-Dina handed him the canteen, then squatted down to peer into the hole. The symbols painted on his left shoulder gleamed in the light from the globe.

The colorful glyphs denoted personal name, trade, parental status, job title and family clan, including whether the alien was related to the Royal House.

Beloran wasn't. Maybe that's why he'd ended up in commerce, as a Merchant.

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Until recently, earning one's living by buying and selling was considered demeaning as a profession. But the First Contact had changed all that.

The shock of learning that aliens existed, and the necessity of finding a place for the Na-Dina people in a strange new universe, coupled with the practical necessity of finding goods to trade, had elevated the Merchant profession almost to the status of nobility.

Beloran let out a long hiss of mingled wonder and dismay. "It's intact!" he exclaimed a moment later. "The tomb of A-Um Rakt is intact!" On the alien's back, overlapping folds of scaly flesh quivered like jowls. His long tail thumped the dusty tunnel floor.

"Yes, it is," Khuharkk' said. "We are very fortunate!"

"Treasure ..." Beloran added, as if he hadn't heard the Simiu. The Liaison sighed, sounding almost regretful. "This will delay the rising of the dam, will it not?"

"Possibly," Gordon said. Then he added, in a burst of honesty, "Probably.

But, Beloran--look! That's your heritage, and it's wonderful? And also ... there are Mizari artifacts there, at the foot of the sarcophagus. Your people may well have been the last species to have contact with the Lost Colony! That's a momentous discovery!"

"Mizari?" Beloran jerked his head out of the hole so fast that he banged it on the stone. The Liaison glared at them, obviously furious, his tail stiff with anger. "Are you saying that infidel outworlders were responsible for A-Um Rakt's glorious reign?"

"No!" Gordon protested. "Of course not! I'm saying that your God-King was so great that even aliens from another world wanted to pay homage to him, and left grave- gifts!"

"Ahhhh ... Yesss ... I can see that," Beloran said quietly, after a moment.

"When you explain it that way, it makes sense."

The Na-Dina's tail relaxed visibly. "But, Doctor Mitchell, my job is to look out for the welfare of my people, and it is difficult to see how this discovery, marvelous as it is, will make up for the delay in the building of the dam that 12

will bring us so many benefits." The Liaison straightened back up. He did not look Gordon straight in the eye, but that was not the Na-Dina way, so the archaeologist was not surprised. "However, I suppose congratulations are in order, Doctor Mitchell."