“Do you really believe that, sir?”
“No,” said Stavros flatly. “I rather put it down to curiosity. To Hulagh’s curiosity in particular. He is mortally afraid of what the mri might do, afraid of anything that has their hand in it. I think he’s quite obsessed with the fear that some may survive and locate him. I am being frank with you. This is not for conversation outside this room. Now tell me this: was there any touching, any overt threat from the regul you encountered?”
“No hand laid on us. But our property ”
“I read that.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You handled it well enough,” said Stavros, a slight frown on his face. “I think, though, that it does indicate that there is a certain interest in you personally, as well as in the mri relics. I think it was your presence drew them out there. And if I hadn’t put Galey out there with you, you could have met with an accident. You neglected precautions.”
“Yes, sir.”
“They’ll kill you if they can. I can deal with it after it happens, but I can’t prevent it, not so long as you’re within convenient reach of them. And why this shrine, Duncan? Why this artifact?”
“Sir?”
“Why do yon reckon it was so important? Why did the mri risk their lives to go to that place and fetch it?”
Duncan gestured vaguely to the report that lay on the desk. “Religion. I explained ”
“You’ve been inside that so-called shrine. Fve seen the pictures you brought out. Do you really believe that it’s a place of worship?”
“It’s important to them.” He was helpless to say anything else. Other conclusions lay there in the photographs: computer banks, weaponry, communications all such possibilities as regul would dread, as allies of the regul would have to fear.
“You’re right: it’s important to them. Boaz has cracked your egg, Duncan. Three days ago. The artifact is open.”
It shook him. He had thought it unlikely that if it were to be opened, it would need mri help, cooperation, that might be negotiated. But Boaz’ plump hands, that worked with pinpoint probe and brush, with all the resources of Flower’s techs at her command they had succeeded, and now the mri had nothing left that was their own.
“I hadn’t thought it would be possible that soon,” Duncan said. “Does the report say what it was?”
“Is. What it is. Boaz says it was designed for-opening, no matter of difficulty to someone with the right technique, and some assurance that it was not a weapon, which I understand your pictures provided. It’s some sort of recording device. The linguistic part of it is obscure some sort of written record is there; and there’s no one fluent in the mri language to be able to crack the script. For obvious reasons we don’t want to consult with the regul. But there’s numerical data there too, in symbols designed to be easily deciphered by anyone: there was even a key provided in graphics. Your holy object, Duncan, and this so-named shrine, are some kind of records-storage, and they wanted it badly, wanted it more than they wanted to survive. What kind of record would be that important?”
“I don’t know.”
“Numerical records. Series of numerical records. What sort of recording device does that suggest to you?”
Duncan sat silent a moment. In his limited experience only one thing suggested itself. “Navigational records,” he said at last, because Stavros waited, determined to have such an answer.
“Yes. And is that not a curious thing for them to want, when they had no ship?”
Duncan sat and considered the several possibilities, few of them pleasant to contemplate.
“It knocks out another idea,” Stavros said, ” that the mri were given all their technology by the regul: that they weren’t literate or technologically sophisticated on their own.” He picked up a photo that lay face-down on the desk, pushed it across, awkward in the extension of his arm. “From the artifact, ten times actual size.”
Duncan studied it. It showed a gold plate, engraved with symbols, detail very complex. It would have been delicate work had the original been as large as the picture.