Jack McDevitt - Coming Home

Brimbury was a beautiful city, a glittering array of soaring towers and wide streets, aesthetic schools and houses, most in geometrically precise positions, separated by gardens and meadows. The Historical Center was headquartered in a wide building with a flowing dome and elevated walkways.

We thought we had an appointment to talk with Professor Silvana, but when we went inside, an administrative aide apologized and informed us that she was on a field trip and that the data system had not been updated. “I’m terribly sorry,” she said. “We don’t expect her back for several months.”

My first reaction was that, since Silvana specialized in the development of planetary cultures, we would have to do some serious traveling to talk with her. But we caught a break. “No,” said the aide, “she’s in Europe. They’re doing a dig at Koratska.”

“Would it be possible to talk with her?” Alex asked.

“I can try,” she said. “Give me a minute.”

We were led into a conference room and, moments later, Shawn Silvana blinked on. We knew her, of course, from the pictures in the books. She was well into her second century, with red hair and dark skin, and a lot of animation. She looked at us curiously, took off her field hat, and sat down on a large log. We could see behind her a section of the dig site, by which I mean a large hole. Beyond that was heavy forest.

“What’s your name again?” she asked. “I didn’t have a good connection.”

“Alex Benedict. This is my associate, Chase Kolpath.”

It was dark, and the moon gleamed in the branches behind her. “Alex and Chase. That rings a bell.”

“We’re antiquarians,” Alex said.

She laughed. “Good. Excellent. Do you know what we’ve found here?”

“I have no idea,” said Alex.

“The headquarters of Andrew Boyle.”

That caught his attention. “Marvelous. Are you sure? They’ve been looking for that for centuries.”

“Oh, yes. There’s no question about it. This was his base.”

“Who’s Andrew Boyle?” I asked.

Alex responded: “He’s one of the heroes of the Dark Age. Died too soon. He was betrayed by one of his own people. If he’d survived, they might have been able to avoid some of the worst effects of the collapse.”

“Well,” said Shawn, “that’s very good, Alex. You know your material. That’s certainly part of the mythology, but God knows it’s unlikely that any one person, even Boyle, could have headed off much of what was coming. It was too late by the time he got into the fight.”

“Boyle,” said Alex, “lived during the period when the corporates and the governments were trying to get up and running again. There was a lot of turmoil, but it really seemed, for a short time, as if a transition to a more stable society was actually happening. He was a leader for the ages, and he was there at exactly the right moment. The situation had reached a tipping point, and it could have gone either way. He had a lot of support. Worldwide. After he was killed, everything came apart.”

“Well,” said Shawn, “it was all a long time ago. Alex, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call? And I should tell you that I’m sorry I’m not there to see you in person. I don’t guess I could talk you into coming over here to Koratska?”

“We appreciate the invitation, Shawn. Might some artifacts be available?”

“We’d be happy to show you what we have. But everything we find is already designated. The university would run me out of town if I compromised any of the find.”

Alex smiled. No surprise. “Shawn, are you familiar with Garnett Baylee?”

“Of course,” she said. “He was a close friend.”

Alex explained about the transmitter while her eyes widened. “We’re trying to figure out where he found it.”

“You think he might have located the rest of the artifacts? The ones that were at Prairie House?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“Incredible.” She was silent for a few moments. “How can I help?”

“I was hoping you might have some idea where they were taken? Some hint?”

“I have no idea, Alex. I’m sorry. I wish I did.”

“You knew Marco Collins?”

“I did.”

“Did you ever discuss this with him?”

“Sure.”

“We read an account of the transfer from Huntsville to Grand Forks in an early draft of The Grand Collapse . And then that they were getting ready to move everything again away from Grand Forks. But it didn’t say where. And that whole section was cut out of the final version.”

“Did he do that? I wasn’t aware of it. Well, that might have been because there was no specific evidence. No indication where they might have taken all that stuff. Assuming they did. He probably didn’t have anything more than the tradition.”

“What do you know about Zorbas?”

“Enough that I can believe the story, that he’d do anything necessary to rescue the artifacts. When the thieves and vandals arrived in Grand Forks, he became one of the leaders of the defense. He was one of the heroes of that era. We do have documentary evidence of that. But I suspect during that period he had a lot more to worry about than some artifacts.”

“I was wondering,” said Alex, “if his heroic stature wasn’t the reason the tradition formed. That people thought sure, it was the sort of thing he would have done. Except, yes, maybe he was too busy saving lives.”

Somebody handed Shawn a cup. Probably coffee. She sipped it. “It’s possible.”

They both fell silent.

“Okay,” said Alex, “thanks, Shawn. We won’t take any more of your time.”

“Well, there is one thing that Marco mentioned.”

Alex’s jaw tightened. “What?”

“He told me he’d seen a comment attributed to Zorbas’s brother Jerome that he’d taken the artifacts to Greece.”

“To Greece?”

“To a place near where he was born. Larissa. But Marco didn’t buy it. Greece was even more disrupted then than North America was.”

“Larissa,” said Alex. “Did Marco have any direct contact with Baylee?”

“I have no idea, Alex. But it’s certainly possible. Marco would have been teaching at the university at about the same time Baylee was doing his research there.”

The final version of The Grand Collapse reported only that Dmitri Zorbas was “believed” to be at the Prairie House when the decision was taken to shut it down. Whether they were “shutting down” a trove of artifacts or simply a communal establishment is left unclear.

“Do we head for the Aegean now?” I asked. Larissa was located north of the Pagasetic Gulf.

“I don’t know,” said Alex. “What do you think?”

That kind of indecisiveness was unlike him. “I assumed that was automatic. Why do you ask?”

“It doesn’t feel right. I can’t believe he’d have taken the artifacts to Greece. They wouldn’t have been any safer. And he’d already given up twice on the area.” He took a deep breath. “Maybe it’s time to go home.”

I can’t explain what happened next. I wasn’t ready to give up, but I was also inclined to agree that charging off to Europe with several truckloads of artifacts during a time of worsening instability didn’t seem like a smart move. On the other hand, what other course did we have? “Your call, Alex.”