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While Dragons
Sleep
Part 1 of a short novel by Jonathan Day
"The concept of community died almost twenty four centuries ago. The idea of mutual reliance, of relationships necessitated by circumstance, are no longer reasonable. With the revolution in medicine and the consequence of longevity people have learnt that they have the time to make individual conquests. Newton's statement that he could see further than others only because he stood on the shoulders of giants is not true of anyone any more. We all have the opportunity to be giants now. Occupations have almost been made redundant. Advances in technology and human management mean the tasks of living, and the occupational structures that went with them have been eroded over time. There are now only four recognised career pathways, comparable with the medics, lawyers and clerics of the nineteenth century. There are no other. Historian, scientist, roboticist or doctor. Each of you have proved yourselves intelligent enough and superior enough to specialise in one of these areas. The choice is yours...."
Lambert listened to the vice chancellors words but at this point was distracted by his own thoughts. Which career path was he going to choose? He knew he would choose one but was not sure which. His first class degree in bio-neural engineering was an ideal background for entry into the World Robotics School but this was not where his interests lay. He was more concerned with history and in particular the history of science. His friends had laughed at his hobby of studying the work of past scientists, after all what they discovered could be downloaded into a person's knowledge in micro seconds. But Lambert was not interested in just the scientific results but in the people who came to those results. If university staff had known of this interest they would have classed it unhealthy.
The day was the same as always. On occasion they adjusted the weather stabilisers to give a bit of variety. He remembered when he was younger they had given a demonstration of a thunderstorm in his geography course. It had been startling. Everything about it had scared him. He wondered how people had managed to deal with storms on a regular basis. But on this day the skies were clear except for a few wisps of cloud that added at least a little character.
The building was not far from him now, it grew bigger quickly. He programmed the capsule to stop after another fifty metres. From there he would walk. It was a pleasant day after all. It was difficult to tell the age of the building. For the last thousand years or so they had been designed and built in the same fashion, with similar lasting materials. The autoentrance greeted him with the same voice that all public buildings shared. It asked him for his name and identity code. "Lambert, Daniel. 4409564AB." The door slid open. "Welcome Mr.Lambert. Someone will be along to greet you shortly."
Lambert looked around him. The foyer was the same as a thousand others he had seen before. His mind did not linger on this conformity, nor question it. That was the way it was. Moments later a middle aged, hurried looking character appeared. "Lambert," he cried, "welcome. I am Hoven, 3654345AH. Follow me."
Lambert did as he was bade. He caught up with the man, who seemed to be in a hurry. "When will I meet Dr.Forsyth?" He asked, a little impatiently. "Shortly, at the dig."
Lambert knew the building was not used as a living place but rather as a layer of protection for the archaeological work that was taking place there. The site, he had heard, was a 30th century research lab, that had been buried in a land slide a millennia before. His application to join in the work as a historical scientist had resulted in the interview that was now about to take place. He was a little nervous and felt his palms begin to sweat. It was not long before they came to the site entrance, indicated by a sign, which also proclaimed the legend 'authorised personal only.'
Hoven spoke up. "We have a new security system here. When we passed that sign our ID imprints were read, you know the ones you were implanted with when young. If they didn't match the ones programmed into the software all hell would break loose."
"What about my ID number, how did you know that?"
"Someone must have tracked it down. Perhaps from the
university."
Lambert wasn't so sure. The university had no need of his I.D. He had never given it to them.
Lambert lost that thought when he saw the site. They stood on a balcony some fifty metres above, where they could see the work that was being carried out. There were about a dozen or so people scattered about, around what looked like the foundations of a building. With no indication it was about to happen the balcony began to lower until it was level with the floor. One of the people who had been working on the site came over to them. "Hello." She said. "My name is Dr.Forsyth."
She looked young and Lambert wondered how it was that she was in charge of a project this size. She couldn't have been more than forty years older. "Hello," he said "I am Lambert, Daniel 4409..."
"Yes", she interrupted him. "I know. I'll show you round then we'll talk about what you want to do here."
Hoven disappeared but Lambert didn't notice his absence until some time later. He assumed he had departed on some unseen signal. Dr.Forsyth led the way and began what Lambert supposed was an introductory lecture for anyone visiting the site. He learned of the discovery of the lab when radioactivity was picked up during a routine air scan. That had not happened for nearly more than a century, not since the Natrite conflicts, so was investigated immediately. The source of the radioactivity turned out to be plutonium buried within what transcended to be a thirtieth century science laboratory. Investigators were assigned immediately and recommended an archaeological survey. That had been achieved with a few discoveries on the way that had maintained interest in the site.
At this point Lambert stopped listening. His concentration was used up quickly, a fault that had been commented on many times. Instead he began studying his surroundings. The foundations of the lab were clearly visible,about half a metre in height, and had been cleaned extremely well. There was little debris which surprised Lambert. Surely there would be artifacts around, not everything was biodegradable. He was about to ask Dr.Forsyth when they were interrupted. It was a man, about Lambert's age. His forearms and brow were covered in a layer of red dust and he was sweating. He ignored Lambert and addressed the doctor. "There's some activity in G grid." Dr.Forsyth looked at him with only a vague interest, but that soon changed. "They think they found it."
Lambert was not invited to accompany Dr.Forsyth to look at it, whatever it might be, but was left to wander the area of the dig they were in. Dr.Forsyth said she would not be long and would return to talk details with him. That sounded promising, perhaps it was a implicit approval of his application to work at the site. He wondered around. There were less people now, only three or four. None of them took any notice of him. Walking by the edge of one of the foundations he bent over for a closer look. He slipped and fell, hitting his head as he went down. That at least bought him some attention. All of the workers ran over to him.
"Is he alright?" asked one.
"Never mind him, what about the wall."
"Thanks." Said Lambert who managed to get himself up. His head hurt a little. Something was in his eye. It was blood. "Better get you to the first aid room." said one of the site workers. Lambert insisted there was no need but the man was persuasive. The first aid room turned out to be more the size of a storage cupboard. "We don't get a lot of injuries." Explained the man who had helped him.
"I think I need some air, I'm dizzy."
From nowhere Hoven appeared. "I'll take him." He said. The others went back to their work. Outside it was the same as when he had come in. A clear sky, daubed with a few touches of white. The site was thirty kilometres from the nearest living place and all that could be seen was sand and rocks. Every now and then there were touches of green as some plants did their best to grow. Most of them were mutated. No additional effort had been made to help them. This was not agricultural land. The use of the terra generators would have been a waste. Lambert thought it was a shame, but it was not practical.
He turned to Hoven. "When will I see Dr.Forsyth"
"She's pretty caught up at the moment. I don't think she will be available today so I suggest you return tomorrow." With that Hoven turned and left.
Lambert watched him go. He seemed out of place in this emptiness, his back bobbing up and down, his bald head shiny with sweat. For that matter the site seemed out of place. Lambert had an uneasy feeling which he tried to shake of but couldn't. He turned and walked in the direction of his capsule.
He had some difficulty when he got back to his lodgings. His autoentrance wouldn't recognise his I.D and refused to let him in. Lambert caught up with the buildings tenancy porter, who over ruled the system for him and disengaged security protocol. He promised to get the mechanics in to look at it first thing in the morning. Lambert lived alone, although a wildcat chose to visit him on occasion. It was said that many centuries ago wildcats had been domestic animals and had freely chosen to live in people's abodes. Lambert could not believe this of the wildcats he had seen. How could such an independent and ferocious creature live with humans full time? As it was the only reason the wildcat came to visit him was because he offered it some of his ratchomeat. There was little meat to be found hunting in the wild these days. Lambert turned in early, he was tired. He fell asleep almost straight away. Unusually for him he dreamed and when he woke he remembered the faces of Hoven and Dr.Forsyth but little else.
He made his way to the site in the morning at a fairly early hour, keen to engage Dr.Forsyth and have his post officially recognised. The capsule rode along automatically in the dark. He left it at the same location he had on the previous day. As he walked towards the site he stopped to watch the sunrise and it seemed to wake something in him. The hazy, orange sky slowly changed the landscape before him. He had rarely seen the sunrise before, not ever over a great expanse like the one before him. For a moment he thought of the myths and legends he had learnt at school. For a moment they were there with him.
Then as quickly as the feeling had come it went. He made his way over to the site. He felt surprise when he got there. The autoentrance was open and it did not challenge him. He listened out. Nothing. Lambert was not used to anything unusual happening and did not know how to deal with it. He did not want to be blamed for the failure of the autoentrance in case it threatened his chances of working at the site but it was likely he was the first person to have arrived. It was his responsibility to cope with the situation. After all it was nothing sinister, perhaps a power failure. He made the decision and went into the building. It was quiet, especially without the automated voices that had always been around him, wherever he went. His footsteps now echoed in the corridor. He had not heard that echo the day before and he told himself it was just his imagination playing with him. When he reached the balcony it was pitch black and he could not find the switch to lower it down to the dig. He would have to find another way down. He turned and sought a staircase. There was a door marked 'site access only' which turned out one. There was no light here either. Lambert felt his way down the staircase using the balcony. At the bottom he found a power panel by feeling against the wall. That was lucky. He touched the reset switch. The silence was interrupted by a whir. It must be the backup generator, thought Lambert. That explains the autoentrance.
He walked through to the dig. He was in a different area from the one he had been in the day before. A sign established it was grid G. He scanned the dig. A little way from him he saw a huddled up shape and he went over to investigate. He had only ever met two people who had died. Both had been fairly old, over two hundred years old, and their deaths had been expected. This was not and Lambert's adrenal gland went into action for the first time in his adult life. Immediately he was faced with the decision to stay or run. He stayed only because he could not move. Before him lay the body of Dr.Forsyth, an empty shell, eyes wide open, staring at a long gone horror.
Lambert's thoughts were few because his body was trying to cope with the sudden inrush of adrenalin. It was interrupted by a voice.
"Stay exactly were you are."
Lambert couldn't have turned if he wanted to. The owner of the voice came into sight. He was pointing an instrument at Lambert, probably a sonicfier. "Lambert, Daniel 409564AB you are under arrest for the murder of Forsyth, Jane 346532AA."