There was no need for her to mention that a quick departure from anywhere facilitated getting away without undue scrutiny. A terraforming mega-event would give the authorities plenty else to attract their attention. It would have been the perfect cover under which to spirit out exciting artifacts. Except there weren’t any.
She pointed at the square hole in the wall. “This is the door in. The Old Tellans were shorter and wider than we are.”
Leaning his backpack against the outer wall, he ducked into the Site with her. It was cooler inside than out in the sun. The Site consisted of three rooms connected to each other by square doors. In the largest room—Room One—stood a workbench surrounded by people in field clothes.
She made introductions. “Our field team came planetside from our starship, Pastfinder, which is in orbit.” Speaking of fast getaways at need. “We’re based in Avend University in Wendis, with University funding and researchers. Out in the field, we call ourselves the Pastfinders.”
The corners of his mouth flicked up appreciatively. It occurred to her that his lips looked very kissable. She didn’t mention the more irregular part of Pastfinder funding—the funds that didn’t come from the University and the activities thus funded. Haze didn’t need to know about that, and it wouldn’t enter into his brief visit. It was always good when a visiting official visited briefly. But she felt a stab of regret that he would be gone so soon.
Back to her explanations. “We’re xenoarchaeologists—which is a lot of syllables, so it’s xenarchs for short—representing various disciplines. Who takes part in an expedition to a site depends on what the site needs. Our linguists aren’t needed where there’s no Old Tellan writing. Dirt archaeologists, on the other hand, are key investigators here. We have two, both professors at Avend University.” She indicated Ria and Gerro Lee. The slight, golden-skinned, late-middle-aged Wendisans were poring over test results at the end of the table. Their graduate student assistant, Mikal, was sweeping the stone floor. Later he’d sift the sweepings for anything of archaeological or geological interest.
Haze traded brief, amiable greetings with all three.
“And over there is Quit, short for Quetzalcoatl. He’s an expert in analytic instruments.”
Quit, a Wendisan with the proud and incongruous name of a god-king from the legends of Old Earth, looked up from his electronics on his end of the workbench. He gave her a cautionary wave. He always did that even though she was very good about not getting too close to his projects. Sometimes she found Quit annoying. He was likeable but exceedingly undiplomatic.
In Room Two, Vijay-Jud was exactingly drawing grid lines on the floor. He acknowledged Haze with his usual dour smile.
“Don’t ever ask about Jud’s past,” Mercury whispered to Haze as they turned back.
His ears worked fine. Haze murmured back, “Not done around Travelers.”
Yes, that was Traveler etiquette. In Jud’s case, he was a fugitive from the Faxen secret intelligence agency, due to involvement with Disunionism in his reckless youth.
Mercury wondered if other parts of Haze worked as well as his shapely ears.
Silk ducked into the Site. Typically, Silk had her hands full managing the station. With any interruption short of danger, she would methodically wrap up what she was doing before greeting visitors. She was a tall, ageless woman with black skin. “Silk is our Quartermaster. She does the provision and deployment of supplies. The kind of stuff you don’t trust academics and scientists to do.”
“I’ll make sure to stay on your good side,” Haze told her.
Silk’s quick grin showed that she liked his attitude.
His smile in return lined his face becomingly.
Mercury was struck by how none of these people were so attractive as Haze. Not even when you set aside how they were married like the Lees and Silk, or had a fiancée at the University like Mikal, or were blithely single, like Quit. Jud never gave anyone a clue who or what his sexual tastes favored. Though he had a taut charm, she would not want to be entangled with him if his past ever caught up with him.
But Haze was extremely attractive. His intensity reminded her of her very first boyfriend, who’d been rather wild. Wildness had gotten old even when she was very young. Reined intensity, on the other hand, was something she liked a lot.
Since time was short, the Pastfinders turned back to their work.
Imaging studies—Quit raised a hand; it was his idea and his imaging tool—indicated a hollow wall in the Site. Mercury showed Haze Room Three, where an improvised scaffold stood in place. The plan was to drill a tiny hole in which, if the drill hit empty space, to insert a tiny camera into the hollow wall. The scaffold and a dusty chair constituted everything in the room.
Haze gave the scaffold a neutral nod. Mercury, however, was always suspicious of improvised equipment. This scaffold had been cobbled together of materials stashed in the station storeroom for god only knew how long. The metal pieces with their unknown provenance weren’t necessarily rated for this planet’s gravity. One joint of the scaffold in particular looked inadequate for the weight of the scaffolding that rested on it.
The instant she noticed it, the joint buckled. The scaffold toppled to one side. It hit Haze. He staggered back. The top corner of the scaffold struck the stone floor with a sharp melodic clang.
Haze sank into the dusty chair. Mercury dashed to him. “Are you OK?”
“It just grazed me.” He rubbed his shoulder.
Thank the god that the corner of that falling scaffold had not hit him on the head! The field station had one body bag—a piece of medical equipment that would keep a casualty alive in a coma until reaching a hospital. But the paperwork demanded by the University was incredibly onerous in that case.
Pastfinders rushed into the room. One thing you could say about the Pastfinders was that they were not easily upset. Quit jovially told Haze, “Congratulations! You’ve had your first accident! Now you’re initiated and one of us, so it won’t happen again!”
Mercury could have throttled Quit for saying all of that.
Haze looked both pained and puzzled.
Taking a deep breath, Mercury told Haze, “They mean you had bad luck because of me. I’m a Jinx.”
Haze frowned. “I am not a superstitious man. I don’t believe in bad luck.”
“That’s Jinx with a capital J,” Quit said helpfully.
Haze suddenly looked interested.
Jud’s voice rang out. “Everybody! Come look!” He sounded uncharacteristically excited.
Mercury reached for Haze to help him stand. With a smile, he took her hand. She marveled at that smile. Without preamble, he’d learned what she was. He knew and he was smiling.
In Room Two, the Pastfinders gaped at the back wall. It now had a square hole in it, high on the wall. Mercury instantly felt a bit glassy, the way she usually felt at hearing about unexpected death or disaster. Not that this was either of those things, but it seemed unreal. If even the faintest outline of that hole had been visible before, the scaffold would have been right here, not in Room Three.
“It wasn’t there before,” Mikal said.
“It wasn’t open before,” Gerro corrected him. “It has sharp edges. It’s no ordinary deterioration of the structure.”