Midnight Sun Ch 01
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"When they were through torturing her, and Gran was dead, the warlords cut her throat and drained all the blood into a large iron bowl"--The Story of Gran Ch. 25 lines 13 &14
Krinan strode into the anthropology building with clenched fists and gritted teeth. How dare Dahra disappear off the face of the planet for ten days without notifying her. She was her superior, damn it! It was especially despicable, since Dahra had promised to give her a full accounting of her activities, the day she vanished.
It wasn't until three days later that she found out Dahra was alive. But not in person; oh no, that's too good for high guildmistress Dahra Cahlarfelgis. She had left a note tacked to the outside of her office door, while she was inside it, no less! All it had on it was two sentences: "I am off on major research. Will be back within a month. --Dahra."
Damn portalers! Always sneaking around, going places and getting into things that were not their business.
The breaking point, though, came that very morning. She found another note from Dahra, this time on the front door of the house, on the inside! She'd have to remember to activate her house security field from now on.
"Need to talk to you. Meet me at 9:15 in classroom 1. --Dahra."
Why nine fifteen? And the college's largest classroom? Oh well, she decided, I'll play it her way. If she doesn't have a damn good reason for her absence, then her ass will be in deep shit. The university disciplinary council had already seen to that.
After she received the first note, Krinan had gone to the disciplinary council, bringing documentation of Dahra's repeated insubordination, including a recording Krinan had taken at their last discussion. The council had agreed that Dahra was indeed in-subordinate, and gave Krinan wide latitude in finding an appropriate punishment, including everything but actually firing her. A formal inquiry would be needed for that. Krinan had already come up with several vicious, but entirely appropriate punishments, that would make Dahra's professional life a living hell. She was looking forward to seeing Dahra finally get her just desserts.
Krinan entered the classroom at exactly 9:15, and stopped dead in her tracks. Standing before her, waiting, were Dahra, her kid, Lissa, and five of the most respected women in their fields.
The first person that Krinan noticed was Plek Menorfelgis, the dean of the college/museum of anthropology, and Krinan's immediate superior. She was nine years old, and stood a full four inches taller than she, almost as tall as Dahra. She had graying reddish blonde hair, worn at the fashionably short length. She wore a tunic top of mustard and true yellow. The pattern was cleverly woven in such a way that portions of the tunic seemed to change from one shade to the other as she moved. The design proved to be distracting though, as it always seemed to catch your peripheral vision.
Next to Plek stood Grisbul Vaggirlikvis, the president of the whole university complex. Krinan didn't really know her. They had only met twice, at university related functions. What impressed her the most about these two encounters was Grisbul's memory. At their second meeting, over three months after the first, Grisbul still remembered her name and position. Krinan was terrible with names, and the president's memory had made a big impression.
Grisbul was seven years old. She had been the youngest dean the engineering college had ever had, until she was chosen to take over the position left vacant by the untimely death of the old university president. She has been in the position of presidency for the past three months, and was said to be unhappy with her move from the engineering department. She was wearing the standard deep red emoter outfit, with a small triangle cut out at her cleavage. Her graying red hair did not quite match the color of her uniform.
Dahra must have actually found something major, if she invited the university president, thought Krinan.
The third person in the classroom was Wednu Kemetirfelgis, the head of the archeology/ anthropology museum. She was Krinan's equal, with Wednu in charge of the content and development of the museum, while Krinan was in charge of curriculum and development of the college section. They were good friends; which was fortunate, since they spent quite a bit of time together coordinating displays and classes.
Except for Lissa, Wednu was the youngest woman in the room, only four years old. Her meteoric rise had become a legend at the university complex. Her innovative interactive exhibits had made the anthropology museum one of the most popular buildings in the plaza. Many of the other colleges had started emulating her exhibits. It was commonly thought that Wednu was a cinch for Plek's job, when she retired. Whether she wanted it or not, though, was the question; as she was very happy with her present job. Besides, she also might be chosen to be the head of all museums in the university, before Plek retired. It would be the first time anyone from the anthropology department had been promoted to university administration.
Her tightly curled blonde hair was cut short, and she wore tan, baggy shorts and tank top, that matched her skin tone. From a distance it almost looked like she wasn't wearing any clothes at all.
The other two, a minder with brown hair, wearing a faded yellow work tunic and knee-length shorts, and an elderly, grey-haired portaler, wearing olive green short-length overalls, with dozens of small pockets, were unfamiliar to Krinan.
All five of them glanced at the clock and glared at Krinan. It dawned on her that she had been duped. Everyone else had been told to arrive a 9:00, while she had been told 9:15. They had been waiting fifteen minutes for her.
That bitch, thought Krinan. Dahra had better damn well have found how to make men wake, for this humiliation. Any less, and her ass is mine.
Dahra was wearing her nicest outfit, a short sleeved light green top with little pastel green flowers embroidered around the curved neckline, and matching skort. Her dark brown hair was in its usual style, except that the hair hanging down her back was tied together at the end with a matching light green ribbon.
Lissa had on a translucent tan poncho-like top that went down to her waist. Under that was a loose-fitting brown bodysuit. Her long pale blonde hair had been pulled to the top of her head and tightly braided. As a result, her braid went straight up about four centimeters (2 inches) and then hung down from the side of her head to her shoulder, like a windsock on a windless day. Her braid would hang wherever it wanted around her head, depending on Lissa's head movements. Weaved into the braid was a dark brown ribbon.
So, thought Krinan, Dahra and Frissa's brat have been working together. If the kid was anything like either of her mothers, that would explain a lot.
Dahra made brief introductions to Krinan, since the other five had already been introduced earlier. Krinan found out that she knew the two strangers by reputation.
The minder was Unkor Menorfalas, a geologist who was four and a half years old, and had been Lissa's mentor in school. She was also the acting dean of geology research, since the real dean had just left on a two month sabbatical. Unkor didn't enjoy the job. She felt that a geologist's place was out in the field, not behind the desk. So she always dressed like she was about to go out on a field trip, to show everyone where her heart truly laid.
The portaler was Eran Cahlarklinkas, a computer science teacher. She was eleven years and four months old, and should have retired long ago. But she enjoyed her work too much, and had threatened to come to work, regardless, if forced to retire. She could have become head of the college years ago, but refused the position, knowing that her true calling was one of research and teaching. She wasn't a 'pencil pusher.' Even without a title, Eran was acknowledged as one of the most innovative thinkers in the field.
Dahra had considered becoming a computer scientist before switching over to anthropology. During that brief time, Eran had been her mentor. They had been friends ever since.
It was Eran who first spoke after Dahra had made introductions. "Dahra, what the hell am I doing here with a bunch of damn pencil pushers and dirt diggers?"
Krinan and several others were shocked by Eran's language; but Dahra and Grisbul, who also knew Eran, took it in stride.
"Patience, Eran," said Dahra, with a smile. "Now that everyone is here, I will explain everything. Please be seated, it may take a while to answer all your questions."
Dahra and Lissa headed for the podium, while the other six took seats on the first row of the amphitheater-like classroom. At the podium, Dahra picked up a large posterboard, that Krinan hadn't previously noticed. Dahra waited while everyone got comfortable, took a deep breath, and spoke.
"Eight days ago, Lissa Kemitarshalas and I found an undisturbed pre-disaster building..."
A ruckus broke out as everyone, except Eran, jumped to their feet and tried to speak at once.
Dahra raised her hands and shouted, "I'll be happy to answer any of your questions, but one at a time, please!"
"Where is it located?" chorused the three archaeologists in the audience.
"That is a very good question. One I was about to answer, if I had been given the chance."
"The building is located under a hill, buried by ten yardss of rock. Portaling is the only way to gain entrance.
"As to which island it is located, we're not ready to tell you, as is my right as the discoverer..."
Dahra was interrupted again, as both Wednu and Krinan sprang to their feet and yelled in unison. "You can't do that!"
"I'm afraid she can," sighed Plek, their superior. "It is within her rights as discoverer to keep the location a secret for up to two months."
"And to ensure that no one else can gain entrance," said Dahra, as she glanced over at Eran, the only other portaler in the room, "I have bought the finest security field I could find, and keyed it to allow only me access."
"How did this building get inside a hill?" asked Unkor, Lissa's mentor.
"It is my professional opinion," said Lissa, once again trying her professional voice, "that there was once a tunnel or cave leading to the building. This cave collapsed approximately two hundred and fifty years ago; around the same time as the great disaster."
"What did you find inside?" asked Wednu, sitting on the edge of her chair.
"I'll be happy to show you, if none of you have any more questions," said Dahra.
Some did, but didn't speak them. Seeing the find was foremost in their minds.
"Very well," said Dahra, moving up the center aisle, to the second row, just behind her audience, and prepared to portal. "May I present our find."
Lissa raced over to the light control panel and dimmed the lights to the classroom, as Dahra opened a portal to their find. She opened her portal to a larger size than usual, about thirteen feet, and a little slower than normal, to heighten the dramatic impact. Before the portal reached its final size, the lights came on from inside the ancient building, illuminating faces of the scientists. The portal opened onto the entry area, where Dahra had portaled the first time.
Dahra and Lissa quickly moved to the portal entrance, stepped through, and motioned for the others to follow. They hesitated to enter the alien structure. Krinan, after only a few seconds of indecision, was the first one to follow Dahra and Lissa. She was followed by the other two anthropologists, Grisbul, the university president, and Eran, the computer scientist. Only Unkor, the geologist, hung back. Lissa stepped back through and grabbed her hand.
"Come Unkor, I really want you to see this."
After getting mental assurance from Plek, the other minder in the party, Unkor stepped through, onto the black and white checked floor.
The newcomers huddled together in fear as Dahra and Lissa guided them.
"This structure was built by a wealthy male or woman."
"I'll say!" interrupted Unkor. "Lissa, this floor is made of plik and whikyahr! Just one of these whikyahr squares could buy a large house."
"I know," said Lissa, brushing the braid out of her face, "I would have told you, but you beat me to it."
"Sorry," said Unkor.
"No problem, really."
Dahra interrupted. "Lissa, Unkor, please! We'll get to individual concerns later. Let's do the complete tour first."
Dahra continued. "Why this structure was built inside a cave is not clear. Our working theory is that the owner was an eccentric."
"Maybe," said Wednu, the museum coordinator, scratching her head, "it was built here for protection from the hurricanes."
"That's a thought," acknowledged Dahra. "As this building is more thoroughly examined, I hope the reason will be made clear."
Dahra and Lissa lead the group into the next room. It was a large living room, with the approximate dimensions of thirty by thirty feet. The group, still huddled together, entered the room about six feet from the right wall. The checkerboard pattern on the floor continued throughout the entire room. On the far side of the room were two doors that led further into the building. The right door was made of wogfandal, and carved into it was an intricate geometric pattern of interlocking triangles and squares. The left door was plain, painted the same white color as the walls, with a plain brass knob.
In the far right corner, directly in front of them, was a nook that could have been a kitchen area with many cabinets, though no sink or oven was visible.
Dominating the left side of the room was a living room area. In the middle of the left wall was what appeared to be a stone fireplace and hearth, but without a flue. Three large maroon couches were set so that, with the chimney, they made a rough square. In the middle of the square was a glossy black cylinder, about one yard tall by one yard diameter, with no visible seams, that seemed to be a coffee table. This whole area was placed on a fine hand-woven area rug. It was maroon, with a dark blue and gold geometric pattern woven into it; the same geometric pattern that was carved in the door.
"Lissa and I have been calling this 'the great room, ' for obvious reasons."
"It is all so clean!" said Wednu. "Even in a closed environment, I would have thought that rooms would get dusty, and the furniture would start to rot."
"I would have thought so too," said Dahra. "It had me baffled, until I saw one of those..."
Turning around, she pointed at the floor of the entry room that they had just left. Moving over the floor, were five small vehicles, about one inch long by a half inch wide by a quarter inch tall. They had six tiny wheels, three tires on each side, joined together by a treaded belt. It had a wide, flat attachment, about twice as wide as its main body, connected to the front. Dahra snatched up the one that was closest to her.
"It is cleaning the minute dirt and dust we brought in with us," she explained. "During our five days here, we have observed seven different attachments on these things, including a sewing attachment that maintains the fabrics of the rugs and couches, and a polishing attachment to maintain the other surfaces. They can have an attachment on each end, and are surprisingly mobile. They use the suction attachment to climb and clean the walls, and get to places they can't reach from the floor." Dahra put the device on the wall. The suction attachment caught hold, and the tiny machine raced down the wall at a speed that startled the rest of the group. Lissa was quick enough to grab it, just as it reached the floor.
"They never come out when a room is occupied," said Lissa. "And will quickly evacuate the room when anyone enters. They leave through these really small doors at the base of the walls.
"They also have a way of climbing up surfaces too narrow for the suction attachment. Lissa placed it on a chair leg, and four pairs of padded clasp-like legs emerged from the underside, grabbed hold of the leg, and again started racing down the leg. It was Eran, this time, who grabbed the device.
"This is incredible!" babbled Eran. "It obviously isn't mover propelled. It must have some kind of motor. It's so small. The miniaturization of its internal computer is way beyond our capabilities."
"Now do you understand why we asked you to come?" asked Dahra.
Eran nodded, for once, mutely. She and Grisbul, the former engineer, spent the next few minutes taking turns examining the maintenance device, turning it over in their hands, trying to memorize every square millimeter of its design.
"Come on," said Dahra, "let it go for now. I have other things to show you. If you want to take one back for further study, you can get one whenever you enter an empty room. They aren't hard to catch, and won't hurt you, even if armed with a sewing needle."
Eran sighed, and put the small machine down on the checked floor. It raced off though a inch high white flap, camouflaged against casual detection.
Dahra continued, "Over in the far right corner, there appears to be an oven. But it does not have any kind of heating element; nor any place for one to go."
"Really?" said the computer scientist as she headed for the corner containing the kitchen. "Now, this I've got to..."
Grisbul grabbed Eran's arm, restraining her. "Eran, please! As an engineer, I am as fascinated by this as you are. But this is just a quick overview tour. We have plenty of time to examine this place more thoroughly in the months and years to come. We can't unlock all this building's secrets today."
Eran sighed, nodded her head in acquiescence, and rejoined the others near the entry room.
Dahra gave a quick tour around the rest of the great room, pointing out more items in need of further study as they went, and fielded as many questions from her colleagues as time allowed.
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