Звезда Пандоры

Ozzie sighed and let his arms down with a suspiciously yogalike sweeping motion. He gave Orion an inscrutable grin. “Talking to the ghosts.”

Orion’s head whipped around, trying to find… anything. “Are you all right? Did you hit your head or something?”

“Not since that bar on Lothian, and that was years ago. This world is haunted.”

“Ow come on, Ozzie, that’s not funny. Not here. This whole planet is creepy.”

“I know, man. I’m sorry. But I did hear something, like a bunch of people or aliens.”

“The Silfen?”

“No, I know their language. I don’t know what these guys were saying, but you get a feel from the tone. They were sad, or frightened. Maybe both.”

“Hey, quit it! I don’t like this.”

“Yeah. I know. I think that’s the point, man.”

“The point of what?”

“Whatever I experienced.” He frowned. “What did I experience? Accept there’s no such thing as ghosts, so… some kind of projection? Bit childish just to spook travelers. I mean, why not go the whole hog and put a white sheet over your head and jump out on them from behind a rock?”

“You said the Silfen did have an afterlife,” Orion said quietly.

Ozzie gave him a thoughtful look. “You really do pay attention, don’t you?”

“Sometimes.” The boy shrugged as he smirked.

“Okay then, let’s think about this. None of our electronics are working, so the ghosts can’t be any kind of normal projection, holograms, sound focus, that kind of crap. The Silfen are active here, which implies it must be happening with their knowledge or consent.”

“Unless it’s them doing it,” Orion said, suddenly excited. “There’s nothing alive here. We haven’t seen any animals or insects. Maybe this is their afterworld, where all the Silfen ghosts live.”

Ozzie grimaced, and looked around the stark, massive canyon. “Somehow I think not. I’d expect something a little more impressive. But I could be wrong.” He finished up by looking along the canyon. “Yo, can’t see the light anymore, either.”

Tochee slithered up between them, raising a limb of manipulator flesh. WHAT’S HAPPENING? the patterns in its eye asked.

“This should test our vocabulary,” Ozzie muttered.

By midmorning, they could see the black pillars ahead were indeed trees. Even by this world’s standards they were giants, perfect thin cones reaching over a hundred fifty yards into the air. They had been planted in a double row, half a mile to the side of the river, forming an impressive avenue down the canyon.

“Somebody does live here, then,” Orion said as they drew near to the start of the avenue.

“Looks that way.” Ozzie tilted his head back to see the tops of the first trees. “You know, either they’re made out of a wood harder than steel, or there’s hardly any wind here, ever.”

“Is that important?”

“I dunno, dude. But it’s definitely a spike on the bizarro graph.”

Orion giggled. “This whole place is a spike.”

“I’m not arguing.”

An hour later, when the canyon walls straightened out, allowing them to see ahead for miles, they made out a group of figures walking along the avenue ahead of them. Seven people, a long way in front, moving at a steady pace.

BIPEDS LIKE YOU, Tochee’s patterns declared. THEY MADE THE LIGHT LAST NIGHT.

Could have done, Ozzie wrote.

THEY MOVE SLOWER THAN US. WE CAN CATCH THEM TODAY IF WE INCREASE SPEED.

Ozzie had been thinking the same thing. Of course if he really wanted to attract their attention there were several flares left in his backpack, though he didn’t want to use them for anything less than a genuine emergency. And the group in front would have to be looking around at the right moment. He was slightly surprised they hadn’t seen them already, especially given the way Tochee’s fabulous technicolor coating clashed against the drab ironstone.

Speeding up will be hard on us. We will reach them eventually.

AGREED.

In the afternoon, when they’d been walking down the empty avenue for several hours, they came to the first ruin. A small stream wriggled across the canyon, running from the base of the cliff wall down to the river, crossing through the avenue at right angles. At some time long ago, a simple curved stone bridge had carried the path over it. Now all that was left were the solid foundations on either side, sticking up from the dusty ground like a set of broken teeth.

There were gentle grooves in the stonework, resembling the trails snakes left in sand. Ozzie couldn’t tell if they were natural wind-erosions or ancient carvings. Thinking about the trees again, he suspected carvings. How long it would take for them to wear away like this he had no idea. Centuries, at least.

“I wish my arrays were working,” he sighed. “They could carbon date this right down to the afternoon it was built.”

“Really?”

“Pretty close, yeah.” It was always slightly unnerving how little Orion knew about technology. He had to be careful what he said, especially jokingly, which wasn’t an Ozzie trait. But the boy tended to take everything he said as gospel.