A moment later, having fallen slightly behind, Ishtan called out. “Esteemed colleagues? I think you’d like to see this.” Hisvoice was barely louder than the dripping of the water, but something in the archaeologist’s tone made Iris pause. Ignoring the pain prickling the balls of his feet, he turned back around and corralled Riyu around the corner, where Ishtan’s voice was coming from.
Another mural. Both violence and death were captured in broad brushstrokes across the twenty-metre-long painting. Iris followed the images, trailing the faded paint to the end of the corridor.
“This is incredible,” Ishtan muttered. All the fear had vanished from his voice, replaced with awe and elation and dedication. “This is impeccably preserved, despite the conditions. It would turn the field of First Earth studies on its head.”
“If we live long enough,” Riyu said.
It was sounding more and more like Ishtan was trapped on a very different ship than the rest of them. Of all of them, Ishtan had the keenest eye for the murals and the rest of the ship, a personal and professional appreciation. Of all of them, he was the only one who knew the true price of theNicaea—not whatever was aboard it, but the ship itself—to the academic community.
A sudden urge to pray washed over Iris as he took in the rising reds and blacks of the mural, detailing a bloody confrontation that was both very old and very human. His fingers passed along the worn-out beads of his mala in a futile attempt to ground himself.War.Could war erupt in such a contained space? How could conflict grow to such magnitudes? Could difference be manufactured among people with the same goals, with the same destination, when the destination itself was so noble? Iris thought back to the skull with a perfectly round hole in the bone. Whether it was self-inflicted or imposed made all the difference. “Ishtan, do you believe this is a historical account or a fictional one?”
Ishtan shrugged. “Does it matter?” He was already sizing up how to best remove the mural.
Itmattered. It mattered even more when Iris spotted the same watchful eye in the top-right corner of the mural.Can you make a visual record of this?Iris asked VIFAI and scanned the mural from right to left. How many more bones in the cargo bay would have man-made wounds; smooth, round, holes in temples; unnatural fractures? How many more signs that something horrific had taken place within the corpse of theNicaea?
Breathe.
“Have either of you wondered why we haven’t come across any remains so far? The ship had at least thousand people on board, and yet the only bones I’ve come across are the ones the engineers moved into the cargo bay.” Yan had warned Iris about upsetting others, but the words snuck out of their own volition. The question was as much for himself as it was for Ishtan and Riyu’s benefit.
Riyu shot him a sharp glance but said nothing. Ishtan continued to eye the mural. “All these ships,” he said. “So many different stories, yet with always nearly identical outcomes. Who knows what terrible mysteries theNicaeaholds? One thing is certain. Violence has been natural to people from their very beginning, First Earth or otherwise.”
Breathe,the electronic voice repeated.
Can you pull everything you’ve got on generation ship discoveries from your storage?Iris asked.
That will take a lot of energy.
It would. It would attract a lot of attention from whomever was watching them.Please do it quickly then.Iris motioned for Ishtan and Riyu to follow him. The faster they left the spot, the more difficult it would be for their watcher, whoever orwhatever it was, to pin them down. That’s what Iris told himself, uncaring of the truth of the sentiment.
There was still the question of food.
A few more turns, like Iris had promised, and they were before a wide set of double doors. Inside, a nursery sprawled, wild and overgrown, with head-sized leaves and vines sprouting from every possible angle. Bright purple lights were mounted along the ceiling. The functioning bulbs flooded patches of the room with faint lilac light. Iris raised his hand to keep Ishtan and Riyu back and ventured inside, alone. A thin layer of soil covered the floor, spilled from where the plants had escaped their planters. It was nowhere near as warm and humid as the orchard, but the floor was more forgiving than the cold, metal surface of the corridor, and Iris’s feet welcomed the change.
I think you’re alone here.
“I think so too.” Yet, his forearm instinctively flexed, readying to launch the pulsar blade from within his robes. A few more calculated steps to the sound of dripping pipes, nothing more, and Iris allowed himself to relax. He slowly rolled his shoulders, letting the tension drain. Only then did he call for Riyu and Ishtan to join him. There had to be something edible here. The soil was far too rich and the greens too plentiful for it to be nothing, but that was Riyu’s domain.
Like a princess awakened from her slumber, the botanist sprang into action with a newfound resolve and alertness. Within seconds, she was on her knees, hands buried in the soil, rummaging for anything edible. While Riyu applied herself to the task, Iris allowed Ishtan to wander about the perimeter.
Rows upon rows of planters stretched along the length of the space. Most of the containers were cracked, with wild roots spidering through and dangling towards the floor. In the violetlight, the vegetation looked far more ominous than edible. With his big toe, Iris dug a small funnel in the soil. Thousand-year-old dirt gave in easily to the intrusion.
Even this soil would be priceless.
I’ve never seen you get so sentimental about a terrarium.
Iris smiled faintly. Yes. The whole ship was a microcosm not unlike a terrarium, growing, evolving without outside influence. Now, they had popped the lid and disturbed its balance. Consequences were appropriate.
Not ten minutes had passed before Riyu sat up with a victoriousaha!and pulled out an orange root from the ground. “Carrot!” she proclaimed and threw it to Iris.
He caught it stiffly with both hands and sniffed it. “And you are certain this is edible?”
“Asks the monk who ate how many apples before I said they were not poisonous?” Riyu replied with a giggle, her mood rising. “Carrots are hard to contaminate. You don’t need to worry.” She looked around the nursery. “If I were on a generation ship with no ready resupply of soil, I would worry a lot about acidity and leeching. So, I would also grow a companion plant to avoid those issues. Now, if I were to plant carrots, as I am guessing they did not justevolveof their own volition, I would expect to find …” she trailed off and crawled underneath a planter. “Squash!” With a loud grunt, Riyu pulled out a yellow spaghetti squash the size of her head. “I’m not sure how we can cook this, but the engineers will find a way.” She hopped to her feet and dusted off her trousers, squash neatly tucked underneath her arm. Satisfied with their finds, Iris was about to call out to Ishtan that they were heading back when his feet sensed a muted pulse through the ground.
I’m receiving a ping,VIFAI whispered. The pulse beneath Iris’s feet grew exponentially, like the rumblings of a deep desertsnake as it narrowed in on its kill. Iris had felt this quickening before, right as the door Yan was working beneath broke free and almost crushed him. VIFAI’s searches had drawn their watcher right to them.
Iris snapped towards to Riyu. “Drop everything,” he said, voice low and commanding. “Slowly, walk out of the nursery. When you’re outside, run, run as fast as you can, get the engineers down to our deck. Don’t let them argue.Go.”
Riyu remained glued to the floor, the spaghetti squash wrapped tightly in her arms.
