“You haven’t taken them already?” asked Garal, standing beside Ingray. Today e wore a green-and-white tunic and a pair of trousers that were several centimeters too short for em even though they hung baggy all around eir thin frame, but there was no help for that. No shoes—Ingray hadn’t had any that would fit em, but e had said it wouldn’t matter, and had not complained or seemed uncomfortable, even after the morning’s walk. E still carried that black bag on eir shoulder, though Ingray could not imagine what might be in it that e thought e might need. “You’ll forgive me, excellency,” Garal continued, speaking Yiir, as they all had been all morning. “I know just a bit about this sort of research, and I understand it’s customary to start with a survey—or at least images that might give some indication of what’s under the ground and its extent.”
“Ah!” Zat brightened further, clearly pleased at Garal’s interest. “Yes, so very right. That is where we should begin, with a survey. Images, and also a … what is the word, a walk? Ordinarily I would have many mechs walk the ground and then look at the recordings for small details. But, you understand, the Assemblies are not happy to have foreign mechs flying around taking pictures of the planet, nor large numbers of them combing the parkland. We asked, of course, and of course were refused. Nor are they happy to have a number of foreign students descend on the parkland with any intention beyond enjoying the scenery. I have only been able to survey what I and my little Uto here”—she gestured at the small, boxy bright pink mech walking alongside her on four thin, flexing legs—“can reach on our own. We hope to be allowed access to the government’s own images eventually, though we cannot expect that, and will have to plan as though it will not happen. We will hire people here on Hwae to survey and dig when we have the permissions to do so. In the meantime, it’s just us.” A glance, not at Hevom, but at little pink Uto, stepping along beside her on the path.
“You really think it was a city?” asked Ingray. At dinner the night before, Zat had explained what it was they were looking for, why they hoped to dig here. “You think there are buildings?”
“There is surely quite a lot here.” She gestured to the slope of huge glass blocks. “I think—I cannot prove it yet—that these hills were intentional structures. Temples, palaces, treasuries. What might be inside them, hidden all these centuries?”
“But,” objected Garal, “isn’t it odd that there was a city here once, but there isn’t one now? Isn’t that usually the way it is with cities, they’re built on top of an old one, or very nearby?”
“It can’t have been a human city, though,” Ingray put in. “It was here before the first humans found this planet.”
“Was it, now?” asked Zat. “I am not so sure. Humans may have reached this planet earlier than many think. I am certain that they did.”
“But not much earlier, surely.” As soon as she said it, Ingray realized she probably shouldn’t have. Zat was, after all, a guest of Netano’s, and one Netano was hoping to gain from, financially. “I mean, we know how far humans would have had to come, and we know how long it would have taken them.” A very, very long time before the first intersystem gates were built. “And the atmosphere, when the first humans arrived, wasn’t breathable.” She seemed to recall a tutor saying it had been very thin, and mostly carbon dioxide and sulfur before the terraforming started.
“So the official histories say,” said Zat. “But what if they’re wrong? What if the place the histories claim to be the birthplace of humanity isn’t? Or what if humans left their homeworld much sooner than claimed?”
Ingray hadn’t paid overly close attention to ancient history lessons. “I suppose that would change things, yes,” she agreed. “But … I mean no disrespect, excellency, but why go to all this trouble? I mean, I do understand wanting to know things, and I understand being interested enough to go to some trouble to find things out. But why make so much effort, for so long, over this particular question?”
Zat still smiled. “Most Hwaeans I’ve met feel this way. Your esteemed mother does, I believe, and cares only for the contribution to her reelection fund. I must say, no disrespect intended, excellency, but I have never understood this. You live surrounded by this”—she gestured around, meaning, Ingray supposed, to indicate the parkland and its profusion of ruin glass—“and have so little curiosity about it! Perhaps you use the pieces of it to build a wall. And yet, a floor tile from a building that, it is claimed, one of your Founders might have stood near, badly made to begin with, ugly and cracked and in reality not three centuries old, you will call that a priceless treasure and argue over it bitterly—yes, I see the look on your face when I mention it, I know that the Kaheru family still holds the grudge against Netano for that, though she is not the same Netano and it was a hundred years ago. When this, so much more ancient and precious, you care nothing for. But surely you cannot be unaffected by real beauty, and surely you see that to know your past is to know who you are.”
“In that case, excellency,” said Garal, “who are you, if ruin glass was left by humans who left the ancient homeworld thousands of years earlier than supposed? And why is it worth so much to you to be able to claim that?”
Hevom laughed, startling Ingray. He had been entirely silent for hours. “Quick, very quick,” he said.
Zat frowned, ignoring Hevom as usual. Not offended, it seemed, so much as searching for a way to answer the question. “I believe,” she said, finally, “that the earliest inhabitants of Omkem came from Hwae. By the time your own ancestors arrived they were gone, and had left only these ruins.”
“So you are closer to the original source of humanity than we are,” Garal suggested. “No disrespect meant, of course, just a fact.” Eir voice was entirely, impressively, without rancor or sarcasm. “And as descendants of Hwae’s actual first inhabitants, you might want the right to have some say in Hwae’s affairs, yes? In particular, several members of the Omkem Federacy would like some control over traffic in the gates here. Or maybe they’d just like the Federacy military to be able to travel freely through the Hwae/Byeit gate, so they can reestablish control there, and rebuild the gate that was taken down. It was so much easier for them to get to Tyr before the Byeits revolted and took that gate down.”
“That wasn’t a revolution,” said Hevom, his voice just barely noticeably angry and impatient. “That was a few terrorists.”
Zat, as always, completely ignored what Hevom had said. “I am not a politician. I care only for knowledge. I want only the truth. These other concerns”—she gestured them away, minor irritants—“they are irrelevant. But I do not expect you to understand this.”
Garal said nothing. Ingray, who had grown up in a politician’s very political household, smiled and said brightly, “That’s quite fascinating! And of course the truth is important. Thank you, excellency, for being so patient with our questions.”
“Of course, excellency!” replied Zat. “Now, I know the parkland Safety officer warned us not to climb on the blocks there, for very good reasons, but I am going to see if my little Uto here can take some detailed visuals for me. The officer did say that would be all right.” She started off into the grass toward the slope of the hill, the little pink mech trailing behind her.
Hevom did not follow her. He stood silent for a moment, watching her walk away. And then, with surprising venom, “It’s a waste of time. So many other important issues to worry about, and this is what we expend so much on?”