A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [79]
“Maybe they’ll run out and flag us down. That’d save plenty of time.”
He looked at her skeptically. “It’s been five years. Unless they found some other food source, the three human members of the expedition would not have had sufficient materials to last this long.”
Rlinda frowned as she cruised down through the bumpy atmosphere. “If there’s no chance of finding anyone alive, isn’t this a pointless mission?”
He frowned. “No mission is pointless if you understand the objective. I have been instructed to find answers, not survivors.”
The Curiosity discovered the remains of the Colicos camp close to a large cluster of empty Klikiss ruins. The tents and equipment had been set up on an open rise high enough above the cracked arroyos to be safe from flash floods. Rlinda easily found a place to land on the barren ground.
The two emerged into hot, brittle air. Lotze carried a case in one hand and a satchel in the other, ready to get to work.
The desert colors were harsh, but with a purity that made all edges razor-sharp and clear. The rugged strata provided a stark contrast to the lush greens of other planets Rlinda had visited. The majestic mountains were still purple with dawn shadows. “Nice place to set up a resort—maybe a spa, a golf course.”
A dust devil skittered in front of them, whipping up flakes of loose debris, and went drunkenly on its way before dissipating.
“What concerns me is that even the telink was cut off,” Lotze said. “We know that the worldtrees perished, perhaps in a fire or storm, thereby terminating the green priest’s ability to communicate.”
Despite five years of desert weather, heat, and dust storms that had left the base camp shabby and windblown, it did not look as if any terrible disaster had occurred there. Lotze entered the main tent and ran an experienced eye over the cots, nonfunctional computers, samples, and notes that had fallen to the ground under the influence of time and gravity.
Meanwhile, Rlinda went to the water pump. The moving parts had frozen up, but she could easily lubricate and fix the system. Judging by Lotze’s obsessive dedication, she guessed that the man intended to remain here until he found his answers. Whether that meant days or months, she couldn’t guess.
Lotze stepped out of the ragged tent, carrying what he had salvaged of the archaeologists’ computers and logbooks. He spread the items on the ground, taking inventory.
Rlinda walked around the perimeter to a smaller tent that must have belonged to the green priest. Behind it, the remains of the worldtree grove were obvious. “You might want to take a look at this!”
The treelings had been planted in rows and no doubt lovingly tended by the green priest—but each one had been uprooted and torn apart as if by a furious vandal. The splintered remains of their thin stalks lay scattered, covered by blowing dust. Time had muted the details, but the scene still conveyed a sense of violence.
Lotze arrived, his eyes absorbing everything without blinking. “This explains why telink contact was cut off.”
Rlinda’s foot bumped against something hard in the soft ground, like driftwood. She stooped and dug her fingers into the dust to find a twisted object. The outer surface was dry, leathery, desiccated. She scraped the powder away, already knowing in the pit of her stomach what she would find.
The shriveled, mummified face of a hairless, green-skinned man looked up at her. All soft tissue had been leached of moisture by the arid environment; muscles had drawn tight, pulling his expression into a strange grimace. The meat on his body had shrunk and dried to a hard lacquer clinging to his bones. The desert had done its work, both destroying and preserving the body.
“Our green priest,” she said. “Arcas—wasn’t that his name?”
Lotze scanned the remains of the camp. “He does not appear to have been formally buried. Therefore, I doubt he died