Morgan's Choice (19 page)

“You’re in luck,” Unwyn said. “You’re getting
a marvelous view of the mountains. Usually they’re covered in
cloud.”

“What about that one?” Morgan nodded at a
peak in the middle distance, one with its own plume of cloud.

“That’s Mount Kali,” Unwyn said. “It’s
started fuming again lately.”

Not that Morgan had much experience with
volcanoes but the thing looked sinister, with that rolling coil of
dark smoke rising into the air until it was whipped away by the jet
stream. Was it her imagination, or could she see some red reflected
on the bottom of the cloud?

“Hm,” Asbarthi said. “I confess I find the
recent seismic activity a bit disturbing, Unwyn.”

“It’s being monitored,” Unwyn said. “After
all, if it hadn’t been for a tremor, we wouldn’t have found this
new site.”

Unwyn curved around the volcano and down a
rocky valley. A river tumbled in its depths, the white water an
occasional gleam. A vast plain opened before her, hazy and steamy,
the glitter of ocean on the horizon. While these higher slopes were
barren, a reddish-green carpet of forest spread from the foothills
as far as the eye could see. The young river broadened out,
sweeping through the plain in serpentine curves.

The skyvan slowed and descended into a
rounded valley, sending up swirling clouds of dust as it
settled.

Morgan slid out of the vehicle onto flaky,
dusty ground next to a cluster of tents huddled under a ridge. A
brisk breeze whipped her clothing and her hair as she gazed around.
The place was bare and uninviting but the view, on a clear day,
would have been amazing. She could imagine this as a vantage point
for the military, a place to build a castle. “What is this
place?”

“This is the dig,” Unwyn said. “We found a
building here, covered with volcanic ash from that mountain there.”
He waved a hand.

She looked up to where he’d indicated. She’d
expected something blasted and broken, the remnants of a violent
explosion. Instead, the mountain stood snow-capped and symmetrical,
almost smiling down at them.

“No lava reached here?”

“Not all eruptions spout lava. This mountain
has been dormant for hundreds of years. Last time it erupted, it
deposited another layer of ash in this valley.” Unwyn kicked the
ground with his boot. “That’s one reason why we never knew what was
underneath. Nobody ever comes up here. In fact, it’s almost
impossible from down there.”

She could well believe that. Loose shale and
grit so powdery even plants were finding it hard to get a foothold.
“What’s under there?” she said, looking down.

“
We’re guessing, of course. We think this
was a stronghold or something equivalent to
Hai Sur
Devagnam’s home. It’s up here, above the fug of
the jungle, but there is fertile land down there, quite close to
the sea, that could be worked. If it ever was, the jungle’s claimed
it back.”

“Come along, Professor,” Asbarthi said,
rubbing his hands. “Let’s get on with it.” He turned toward the
tents, Lakshmi in close attendance.

Unwyn hurried forward to lift the tent
flap for them and Morgan stepped into the filtered light under the
canopy. A table littered with artifacts and hand tools stood
against a wall, along with half a dozen chairs. Neatly labeled
cartons were stacked to one side. What looked like a hatch cover
lay in the center.

Unwyn lifted the hatch, revealing a pit.

Morgan stared at the hole in the ground. The
top of a ladder was just visible below the edge. She took a few
steps forward, not too close, and leaned her body a little so she
could see down. Her heart thumped a little faster. “You want me to
go down there?” The words ‘you can’t be serious’ hung in the
air.

The professor grinned at her. “You’ve nothing
to worry about. We’ve all been down there many times. The tunnel is
supported. We’ve shored it up.”

She scratched her nose. Holes in the ground
were too much like cellars. The memory of underground darkness
still haunted her dreams. Let alone the far more recent incident
with Hanestran’s group.

Lakshmi pushed past her. “I’ll go first.” She
almost abseiled down the rungs and turned, gazing up, her lips
twisted in a mocking smile. Bitch.

Asbarthi followed, smooth and confident.

Unwyn climbed down next, negotiating the
ladder with easy assurance. Morgan waited until he was at the
bottom, looking up at her. She took a deep breath and swung herself
out onto the ladder. Both feet on a rung. Well done. She started
down, one foot at a time, forcing herself to breathe evenly. The
ladder wasn’t so bad; it was just a ladder. Around her the walls
sagged against wire netting strung along solid uprights. A pebble
fell, leaving a trickle of dust from the place it escaped. It
seemed to take a long time before she heard the clink as it hit the
bottom.

A few more steps and Morgan knew she was in a
much wider space, descending into a void. Another rung and another.
Heart thudding she looked down. Only a few more steps. Unwyn placed
a reassuring hand on her leg. “You’re doing well.”

She settled her foot to the floor and let out
a breath. Just as well the place was lit. Above her the soft light
in the tent formed a circular symbol of escape. She felt like a
crookan at the bottom of a well. Only this wasn’t a well. She stood
in a large, high-ceilinged room, its roof supported on a line of
central pillars. The dig party had set up lights but not enough to
illuminate the whole space. Shadows lurked in corners, behind
pillars, under overhangs.

“Okay?” Unwyn’s voice broke into her
reverie.

“Yep. What now?” Morgan forced herself to
speak calmly. No time now for schoolgirl silliness.

“I usually have a team working down here, but
we’ve given them a few days off.” Unwyn strode to the middle of a
tiled floor and, standing with legs apart, swept outstretched arms
in a circle. “It’s magnificent, isn’t it?”

Morgan had to admit it was. She stepped
forward, multiple shadows moving with her, cast by six overhead
lights. Above the canopy of brilliance darkness loomed. She
concentrated on the walls, gleaming with color. Paintings, fresh
and vivid as the day they were created. One wall showed the view
down the mountainside and over the plain, remarkably similar to
what she’d seen herself. Others showed people going about their
daily lives; fishermen on a river, farmers tilling fields. Further
away the stains and dirt of years had not been washed away, but
these restored sections were evocative depictions of reality long
gone.

Asbarthi drew her over to the mural of a
shop-front. A man full of pride stood before the entrance, almost
inviting them inside. The windows displayed merchandise—foodstuffs
and wine, household goods, clothing. People could be glimpsed
inside, doing their business. A woman and child, their backs to the
viewer, stood on the pavement before the window. Other people were
captured, frozen in a moment of time as they walked past.

“See this?” Asbarthi said, sweeping his hand
up to the sign above the door. The letters were a little bit
different but they could still be made out. ‘Asbarth’. “He may well
have been a distant ancestor. Now come with me.” He almost dragged
her across the floor, his boots ringing in the silence. “This is
the council.”

Eleven people, sitting in a row along a
bench. The seat in the center was more elaborate, the man’s robes a
little more ornate. As Asbarthi had said, probably a council
meeting and the man in the middle was the same man who stood
outside the shop.

“Yes, yes,” Morgan agreed. Something plinked
on the floor in front of her and she jumped. A pebble. She stared
up past the lights, wondering how safe that ceiling really was.

“Now then, did you notice?”

“What?” Her head jerked up, nerves jangling.
“That it’s the same man? Yes.”

“Not just that,” Lakshmi said, so close
behind Morgan that she had to suppress the start. “A couple have
round eyes.”

Yes, this man here and the second from the
end. Round pupils. Human eyes. She noticed Unwyn rub his hand
across his mouth. He didn’t seem altogether comfortable.

The ground moved. A soft rumble filled the
chamber. The ladder danced a brief jig, pebbles clattered to the
floor. Morgan’s legs turned to jelly.

“You’ve made your point,” she said. “I
believe you. Can we get out of here now? I’m feeling a bit
faint.”

Chapter
Twenty-One

H
er heart thumping against her ribs, Morgan scrambled up the
ladder and out into the blessed air. The roof of the tent flapped
reassuringly in the breeze.

She gulped air into her lungs, steadying her
breathing. Stupid. She’d carried on like a child, just as she had
with Hanestran and his people in that cellar. But this… She’d have
to deal with it. Some time.

“
Suri
?” Unwyn’s hand touched her sleeve.

She looked up into his concerned stare. He
must have rushed up after her. “Sorry. I’m a bit bad with
caves.”

“
It was a minor tremor. Nothing to worry
about, rest assured.” He took her arm. “Come on. That’s
enough.
Sur
Asbarthi has
made his point, I think.”

She let him lead her to the skyvan and help
her into the front seat. Lakshmi tossed an impatient head, contempt
beaming off her. And truth to tell, right now she couldn’t blame
her.

The return trip to Unwyn’s base camp was made
in silence. The sun rode high in the sky but clouds had begun to
gather around the mountain tops as the skyvan landed. Morgan
alighted and straightened her back. So they’d caught her at a
moment of weakness. But that was over. She deliberately caught
Lakshmi’s eye as they crossed to the waiting skimmer, but the woman
spared her little more than a glance.

“Thanks so much, Raj,” she said. “I really
enjoyed myself.”

Morgan noted the slight emphasis on ‘I’.
Bitch.

Unwyn bowed. “My pleasure,
Suri
. I hope to
be able to show you more later.”

Morgan suppressed the snort. She could just
imagine what Lakshmi would want him to show her. Not artifacts,
she’d bet on that. Asbarthi appeared beside her, ushering her into
the skimmer. Lakshmi hurried to follow with a last wave to Unwyn.
The vehicle rose in a flurry of dust and started the steep descent
down the mountain.

Asbarthi leaned toward Morgan, his eyes
burning with passion. “Are you convinced,
Suri
? All we want is to be able to rule
ourselves.”

“I’ve never had a problem in that regard. I’m
not interested in politics. Not at all.” And wasn’t that the truth?
At home she didn’t even bother to vote.

“
We of
Bunyada
always believed that some of our founders had round eyes
like yours. I myself had obtained old fragments of pottery
depicting beings with strange eyes. We don’t know what happened to
those people but now Professor Unwyn has provided evidence
confirming our beliefs. The Mirka have no right to
rule.”

“
I’m sure you’re right.” ‘Who cares’ didn’t
seem appropriate.

“The point, you see, is that the Mirka who
rule this sector of space will try to prevent us winning back our
freedom. With force.”

“You mean the local Governor?”

“Governor Murag has a powerful presence here
on Krystor,” said Lakshmi. “He enforces a curfew, makes us all
carry identity cards which must be produced on demand. They
exercise control over our business concerns, prevent us from
trading with whoever we wish, dominate the planetary government
with their own choices.”

Morgan nodded. What could she say? She’d seen
plenty of such instances in the Coalition, where despots ruled with
brute force.

“We can defeat Murag,” Asbarthi said, his
voice soft. “But we need a cause, something the people will rally
around.”

“Surely freedom is enough?” Morgan said.

“It has been tried before, on other planets,
but always, the Mirka use force to defeat us. They say it is their
role to rule, that we Vesha have no right; what is more, we do not
have the skills. That supposition is what we must rectify.”

“And that’s why the murals are so important?”
Morgan said.

“Correct. We can show people that we were
able to rule in our own right, that the present situation is more
habit than fact.”

Judging by the set of his jaw, the knitted
brows, this was something the man cared about. Deeply. She didn’t
care how the manesa ruled themselves; that was their problem. She
turned away, gazing out the window as she chewed her thumbnail.

The skimmer sped through the forest along a
tree-lined road. Dark green foliage hung down from limbs that
sagged down, rather than reached up. The trees thinned as the
vehicle descended and as the first houses of the village came into
view the driver slowed.

She pressed toward the window, anxious for a
closer look at the town and its people. The skimmer halted at a
crossing as children dressed in green uniforms surged across the
road. She processed a kaleidoscope of images; mothers greeted their
children, a few young lads slouched off, kicking stones. A boy
holding a ball ran, leading some companions to a cleared area. A
bevy of girls gathered into a knot, giggling behind their hands.
All so normal, so recognizable. Even the one or two single, aloof
children, going about their own lonely business.

The door of the vehicle slid open.

“Why are you—” Lakshmi began.

A man in a black uniform leaned in, grinning.
“Your ID cards, please.”