Steph Bennion - Paw-Prints of the Gods

“What about me?” asked Artorius.

“What about you?” the woman retorted. “I have no idea who you are.”

“How about the greys?” asked Ravana.

“That depends,” she said and looked at Nana. “Are you the unfortunate mother?”

“Thraak,” Nana intoned sadly. “Thraak thraak.”

“You know about the cyberclones?” asked Ravana, surprised.

“Why else do you think I was watching the dome? A disturbing development, even by Dhusarian standards. It rather bowled me over.”

“I never saw them,” Artorius said irritably.

“They’re the monks I told you about,” said Ravana.

“Thraak!”

“Fwack fwack,” added Stripy.

“No, we didn’t think you were the father,” said Kedesh. “I’m sure you are just friends.”

“Fwack fwack fwack!”

“Somehow, I can’t see how hiding in some child’s wardrobe and wearing disguises is relevant. Even if it does involving flying bicycles.”

“On Yuanshi?” Now it was Ravana’s turn to look confused.

“They told me that story,” Artorius remarked. “They were on some moon but got left behind. Nana was injured and captured first, then Stripy was picked up later.”

“I always knew they were more intelligent than people would ever admit,” Ravana said slowly. “And that’s the people who accept them as real. But I thought their ship had crashed. When I first saw Nana, many years ago, I remember seeing wreckage.”

“Your little grey friends are smarter than you could ever possibly imagine,” said Kedesh. “But can we get back to the current state of play? For starters, why are the damned Dhusarians so interested in you?”

“I have no idea!” retorted Ravana, quite put out by the look Kedesh gave her.

“Really?”

“Sorry, but I’m not sure if I can trust you,” said Ravana. The expression on Kedesh’s face turned to one of hurt. “I’ve had my mind messed with once already on this planet.”

“The Dhusarians are not overly fond of me either,” Kedesh reassured her. “How about if we proceed on the basis of my enemy’s enemy is my friend?”

“In my experience it’s never that simple!”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Ravana sighed. “The Book of the Greys,” she said. “When we confronted Taranis on the Dandridge Cole , I took his Isa-Sastra . It’s the original, the one the Dhusarians claim was given to a prophet called Betty Hill three hundred years ago.”

“Thraak thraak,” added Nana.

“Yes, I know it was you who wanted me to take it.”

Kedesh looked at Ravana. “And?”

“The book contains a passage on whatever it is buried out there in the Arallu Wastes,” said Ravana. “Taranis seemed to think it was very important.”

“Buried treasure?” suggested Artorius.

“Fwack fwack!”

“And it intrigued you enough to join the Bradbury Heights dig to see it for yourself,” Kedesh observed, eyeing Ravana carefully. “But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

It was not a question. Ravana took a thoughtful sip of tea and wondered, not for the first time, just how much their mysterious rescuer really did know.

“We had started to uncover what Professor Cadmus thought was an alien temple,” she told Kedesh. “He was very excited about a long sequence of hieroglyphs we found engraved on the remains of a glass archway. I didn’t tell anyone that I’d found an exact match in alien script in the Isa-Sastra , in the section Taranis believed was a prophecy.”

“So you think there’s something at Arallu the Dhusarians want for themselves?”

“All I know is someone once told me that Taranis would not let anyone else see the original Isa-Sastra ,” Ravana said. “I wondered if the Dhusarians are worried that I’ll reveal this connection between the Arallu hieroglyphs and the supposed prophecy.”

“Where is the book now?” asked Kedesh.

“Not on Falsafah. I have a scanned copy on my slate back at the dig, though.”

“Even more reason to reunite you with your fellow archaeologists as soon as possible,” mused Kedesh. “Were you carrying enough supplies to get that far?”

“No,” admitted Ravana. “We were hoping to pick up more food at a settlement the map showed a couple of days from here.”

“I know it,” Kedesh replied. “I’m pretty sure it’s abandoned, but standard practice is to leave some stuff behind in case of emergencies. I don’t have enough rations aboard to sustain the four of us all the way to Arallu, so we’ll stick to your plan. It’ll be good to drop by Morrigan’s Bar,” she added wistfully. “There’s something about this endless desert that makes me crave a long, cool schooner of lager. They serve it ice-cold in Arallu.”

“You’re taking us to the dig?” asked Ravana, surprised.

“You have intrigued me, Ravana,” Kedesh said and picked up the one piece of cake Artorius had left unmolested. “There’s something out there the Dhusarians want to keep secret. That’s enough for me!”

Kedesh’s transport was more powerful than the one Ravana and Artorius had stolen from the dome and in no time at all they had left the crash site behind, the vehicle bouncing defiantly across the rocky desert, heading north-west as if fleeing the breaking dawn. The transport’s navigational computer held large-scale geographical studies of Falsafah and with Kedesh busy at the controls, Ravana whiled away the time examining the terrain between them and the distant Arallu Wastes. Despite her reservations, they were aiming for the gravel road, which ran north from the Dhusarians’ dome for a few hundred kilometres and then curved west to a small landing strip Kedesh believed was used to fly in supplies. From there, the road continued a thousand kilometres west along the equator to another tiny airstrip recorded as disused. The unnamed settlement Ravana noted earlier was a short distance north from there, along with the hope they would find what they needed by way of food. The road ran no further and the following five thousand kilometres to Arallu were across a range of mountains that looked a daunting prospect for anything on wheels.

“We should hit the road far enough west of the Dhusarians’ airstrip that we won’t be spotted,” Kedesh reassured her. “Until then, it’ll be cross-country driving for the next five or six hours. We should pick up pace after that.”

“Fine by me,” replied Ravana. She was glad to be on the move again.

Artorius and the greys sat quietly in the cabin behind, strangely subdued. Ravana took a break from studying maps and idly scrutinised the disfigured skin of her right forearm. As a child on Yuanshi, she had been caught in a bomb blast during a skirmish between Que Qiao agents and royalist rebels. The scars had been there for as long as she could remember, yet the last few months had seen a change, for the faint silver tracings she had first noticed upon her face in the mirror had now also appeared amidst the scar tissue of her weakened right arm. When she caught Kedesh giving her an inquisitive look, Ravana pulled down her sleeve and stared resolutely through the windscreen.

“Is everything okay?” the woman asked.

“Not really,” Ravana said with a sigh. “But I live in hope.”

A few hours into their journey, when Artorius had crept into a bunk to take his third nap of the day, Kedesh returned to the subject of Taranis. The greys sat perched on the edge of the bunk behind Kedesh and Ravana in the cockpit, comically swaying with the motion of the transport as it swept on over the dunes. It had been playing on Ravana’s mind as to why Kedesh was so unfazed by the presence of the greys. The existence of intelligent aliens was a long way from being officially acknowledged. Governments across the five systems held the line that the legendary greys of Epsilon Eridani were figments of the deluded; alternatively, that they were an invention of the Dhusarians, which to many amounted to the same thing. Ravana did not have Kedesh down as either and her casual acceptance was puzzling.