Hidden Empire - Kevin J. Anderson [88]
From there, at the request of the Earth Defense Forces, Margaret and Louis had spent six months on Mars far from the military base. Working in a deadly hostile environment was far different from the mere sand and insufferable heat of the Sahara. Stiffly suited, they had analyzed the fabled geometric pyramids found in Labyrinthus Noctis to determine the origin of the fabulous and intriguing formations. But after intensive study, the Colicoses reached the unpopular conclusion, shored up with many fragments of detailed data, that the famed pyramids were not relics of an extraterrestrial civilization, but natural artifacts, outgrowths caused by the unusual crystalline structure of minerals in the soil, exposed to weather conditions in the low gravity over thousands of years.
As xeno-archaeologists, they had few extravagant desires, only common goals and fascinations. The two were content to live their rugged lives, each filling their niche in the marriage. Margaret and Louis often completed each other's sentences and sat together engrossed in thought, doing their own work, making only brief half comments to each other. Yet afterward, if asked, they would claim they had carried on a long and fascinating conversation.
Now, on Rheindic Co, Louis returned to Margaret from some of his explorations, holding the imager in one hand and a glowpanel in the other. "All finished mapping another section, dear."
She didn't look up from where she sat staring at the wall markings. "Make a—"
"I did," he said, popping out the backup datawafer.
"You know where to put it," she said, and he stored it in one of the Klikiss cubbyholes. Louis often forgot to take the necessary precautions, but Margaret had learned her lesson. Many times during their previous digs they had lost data due to electrical storms, dust blows, or flash floods.
Both went back to work in self-absorbed silence, but experiencing close companionship. Margaret and Louis had formed their relationship as an intellectually based alliance, since they spent so much time together far from civilization. They had finally given in to common sense and married each other, as if it were a business venture, bypassing the silly giddiness of juvenile romance.
Louis left her to continue his investigations in one of the chambers that contained the most Klikiss machinery. He insisted that some of the mothballed alien devices still had functional power sources, air exchangers, pumps, and hydraulics. He believed the city was still alive, but sleeping, and he was sure he could reawaken it with the proper intuition and persistence.
Before he went out of earshot, she thought of something they needed to do. "Tonight, Louis—remember Anton's birthday."
"Yes, dear. We'll ask Arcas to send a message. Otherwise he'll think we forgot about him."
Margaret knew, though, that their only son would be wrapped up in his university studies, translating old Earth scrolls and reinterpreting Terran myths and legends. Anton Colicos had established himself as a scholar just as obsessive as his parents. He had given his mother a little antique music box, which she carried with her to every dig. Anton knew his parents were proud of him, though they were often too preoccupied to remind him.
After Louis had gone into the other chamber, Margaret could hear him tinkering and banging on the apparatus. Letting her thoughts wander, she walked down the dry hallways, through chambers filled with reams of untranslated data, literature, or scientific discoveries. Maybe it was nothing more than obscene insect graffiti...
Did the Klikiss tell stories aloud like humans and Ildirans, or were they a purely rational race? And why had they gone extinct? The questions weighed on her like ticking time bombs, making her feel that if she didn't unlock the answers soon, it might be too late.
After another day of fruitful yet unremarkable research, Margaret was interrupted by the