Mori woke me around mid-morning. "We’ve finally reached the stage where we’re going to open the doors," she said. "Or try to – they seem to be a complicated arrangement."
A hot shower and breakfast were first on my schedule. I was surprised to realise that all of Fourth Squad had gone back to sleep as well, but of course it made sense to not have the ship’s entire Setari complement sitting around waiting for dawn, and then watching the greysuits take pictures and measurements and search the overgrown paved area for artefacts.
As I was finishing breakfast, a vibration ran through the ship and on cue Mori reappeared, hair damp. "That’s the Litara. Initial scans have shown there’s an extensive underground complex here. Between that, the presence of a communication platform, and the fact that the doors appear to be charged with aether, this is going to be a major site, perhaps even our second settlement. Let’s go look before we’re overwhelmed by reinforcements."
"Why expedition in Nurioth so relatively few people?" I asked. "Such a large city; barely chipped the edges."
"Well, our primary purpose there was to find something like this place," Mori said. "The archaeological survey and analysis of the city – all the cities – will take decades. What work was done in Nurioth will be useful, of course, but this whole expedition was focused toward finding active Lantaren technology, particularly more platform towns. Not only because we want to analyse such technology, but because we want to concentrate the archaeological analysis on these sites in the hopes that the builders left records of the Pillar construction."
We’d reached the port lock, where the rest of Fourth Squad was waiting on a sled. I really don’t know why they get themselves ferried to shore instead of flying: some kind of protocol? Or just careful conservation of energy when on duty. I’ve come to realise how prone to exhaustion the Setari are.
"I don’t care to guess how long it would have taken us to uncover this, though," Mori continued, as we started across. "It’s not something aerial surveys would easily detect, and far out of our Sight range."
"Seems different style of decorative tradition, too," I said, staring ahead to what I could see of the carved face of one of the mountains. Everyone was quiet and tense as the sled left the lake and slid smoothly between the curving base of the steep-sided mountains.
It reminded me vaguely of – I’ve forgotten the name – that building which is carved into the face of a gorge. It’s not only the size of the thing which makes an impression, it’s the frame of natural rock, in this case not of sheer, baked yellow stone, but of grey and black rocks, worn into rounded piles and heavily decorated with lichen, ferns, shrubs and small trees sprawling down and sideways. A big contrast to the clean, curving lines of pointed arches, maybe twelve or fifteen metres up to the tip. Between a simple inner and outer border were carvings with a faint resemblance to Mayan decorations or even Celtic knot work. The doors were rectangular, not pointed, and the space above their lintel and the point of the arch was full of figurative carvings.
The three mountainettes were close, like a circle of people holding hands. The gap in the centre wasn’t more than a couple of hundred metres across, a lop-sided circle which the greysuits had been busy sectioning with stakes exactly as you’d see at a dig on Earth, except they projected an electronic grid in the interface rather than using string. A few areas had been cleared, exposing circular paths and a tumble of whitestone in the centre which looked like something had fallen on it. They’d made a lot of progress in the last few hours, obviously intent on ensuring nothing was trampled underfoot when people tried to examine and access the doorways.
Kaeline from Ninth met us at a small tent which had been set up just outside this central area, and there was a lot of talk of readings and measurements and where we were allowed to walk. I stood staring at the triangle of carving above each of the doors. Each had a central figure of the head and shoulders of a person – the face was androgynous, idealised, and the arms outstretched, something trickling from cupped hands down on little people below. God-kings. The Egyptians had them and I’m willing to bet that’s what the Lantarens who built this place considered themselves.
Things started getting crowded then, as the reinforcements from the Litara began arriving. I was surprised to see Tsur Selkie among them, though he seemed to be playing observer rather than person in charge. As soon as he showed up all the Setari forgot how to talk and focused on standing very straight, while Islen Duffen called a halt to her team’s work and we all gathered near the tent to discuss what would happen next.
The person in charge was a woman called Tsen Helada (so many Ts titles), a whip-thin, narrow-eyed lady with streaks of grey in frizzy black hair, and an air of barely suppressed energy. She reeled off lists of detail, about how the greensuits would examine the nearby area and decide the site of the settlement while Islen Duffen would continue to coordinate the archaeological side, and a man called Islen Tezart would manage investigation into what amounted to psychic technology. We were to consider the site dangerous, not only because of Ionoth and aether, but because we had no idea what the potential dangers of active Lantaren technology might be. And we were to above all else be thorough, to miss nothing.
Islen Tezart had a very different attitude toward Sight talents compared to Islen Duffen. He wanted the Place Sight talents to assist in the investigation of the doors, which didn’t seem to have any moving parts. He was hoping they might be able to see a way to unlock it without damaging it, or discover if it was something which could be commanded using Ena manipulation, like the communication platforms.
More dullness after this, with everyone standing around talking and waiting while different machines took readings. Ninth Squad was off being guard-like, and Tsur Selkie was with Fourth, watching silently. I kept staring up at the image of the person above the door and thinking of that Shelley poem, Ozymandias.
"Is there something familiar about the carving?" Tsur Selkie asked me while they were performing the last of the machine scans. "Does this have a correlation to structures on your world?"
I shook my head. "Doesn’t really match anything. If wasn’t for communication device inside, would think this was tomb though."
"Tomb?"
I’d had to use the English word. Tarens cremate their dead and toss the ashes into the ocean. Necessary given their space issues, and better than the soylent green option. They have a word for grave, but not for a building for dead bodies, which I guess means that the Muinans didn’t use tombs either. "Cross between monument to the dead and a grave," I said. "There was Earth people called Egyptians, built huge pyramids and sealed bodies of their god-kings inside."
"God-kings." Tsur Selkie glanced up at the carving, at the sightless face gazing at us from the past. Not even Tsur Selkie could win a staring competition with a statue, though, so he looked away.
They finished the last of the machine-based tests then, and moved on to trying Place Sight. Place Sight hasn’t really been very helpful in the explorations so far, because the events the Tarens are interested in happened so long ago that the impressions have faded. But Place Sight is a really broad and adaptable Sight, and there was a chance they’d be able to understand the mechanism of the doors.
Ruuel, Halla and Tsur Selkie enhanced. I’m not sure if Tsur Selkie has Place Sight, but Sight Sight is no doubt just as useful here. They told Halla to go first, and remembering what had happened with the platforms the first time someone touched them, I was a bit nervous, but there was no reaction and no Ddura or anything else turning up. Halla closed her eyes, pressing her hand flat against the smooth stone and, I think, holding her breath.