“Have you come across similar artefacts?” Selene asked.
Hessia frowned. “I have never held any, although I've read a few descriptions. One account claimed they have complex metaspace trajectories encoded into them. I've also heard them referred to as seer stones.”
“Ah,” Ondo muttered. “Yes, that makes sense.”
“You have heard of them?” Selene asked him.
“Passing references, nothing more. I was never able to work out what their function might be. It's possible they're navigational keys.”
“Why seer stones?”
“Possibly for no good reason. A culture that encounters artefacts it doesn't understand has a tendency to ascribe magical or supernatural powers to them. Possibly some civilisation in the gulfs of time between the Tok culture and the present day found one and thought it gave them a means of foretelling the future.”
“Perhaps it did,” said Selene.
“I would be delighted if that were the case,” Ondo replied. “One slight problem is that it's not possible, according to all our understanding of physics.”
“Yeah,” said Selene, “and our understanding of physics is turning out to be really reliable these days.”
Hessia was still studying the bead, rolling it between her fingertips. “Whatever the stone is, it's useless to us unless we can read the data on it.”
Eb still sat quietly, listening to their words but barely moving, as if the cost of even being there was too great. But now he stirred. He held out his hand to Hessia.
“I believe I can read this. I have also seen such objects before. Seen and used them.”
He took the bead and twisted it in his fingers. “These were more common once. They are navigational markers, holding details of intricate routes through metaspace. A key to a dance of steps that must be followed to unlock a destination. They can be encrypted, or time-locked, or made to work only for particular individuals. Some of them were dangerous, booby-trapped to lead you directly into a black hole if you were the wrong person.”
“Then they don't let you see the future,” said Selene. “That's disappointing.”
“It is possible they were called seer stones because they allowed you to see the way to your destination,” said Eb.
“Can you tell where this one goes?” Selene asked. “It has to be somewhere very well protected if Surtr only gave it up as he died.”
“Assuming this bead is meant for me, and is still active, I will be able to access the information it holds.”
“How?” asked Ondo.
Eb shrugged as if it was the simplest of matters, and popped the glass sphere into his mouth. Selene watched his throat work as he swallowed the bead, taking it into his body. A glazed look came into his eyes briefly, then he nodded appreciatively, as if savouring the taste of the object he had consumed.
The image of a red star appeared on the three-dimensional display between them, seen in close-up, fusion fires raging across its crimson sphere, wisps of ejecta flicking into space. The display zoomed out rapidly, and a planet appeared, orbited by three moons. The world's surface was a patchwork of purple oceans, and green and brown landmasses. Clouds swirled in what was, clearly, an atmosphere.
“Here,” said Eb. “The bead contains the vectors to travel here.”
3. Ansider
“This can't be the world Surtr meant,” said Ondo. “There's nothing here.”
“There's life,” said Hessia. “There are civilisations, a couple of million people. Ansider might be too primitive for you to be interested, but I have nanosensors in the system.”
Numbers and charts overlaid the display as Hessia filled them in on what she knew of the planet. Selene studied the data for a few moments. The population was small but stable, scattered around randomly rather than clumped into the cities and conurbations seen on more advanced worlds. It was an agrarian planet, with no electricity, no technology much beyond crude metalworking.
“Why are you watching it?” Ondo asked. “Concordance have no presence. The world is a thousand years from even thinking about the technology required to leave the surface. Most of them probably believe space is a solid dome and that the stars are tiny holes letting the outer light in.”
Hessia's eyes narrowed noticeably as she looked at Ondo. She clearly didn't approve of his attitude. “The world is still of interest. They're still people.”
“Yes,” said Ondo, “but, forgive me, how are they relevant?”
“They're clearly extremely relevant since Surtr directed us here. Are you regretting missing this planet out from your surveillance network now?”
Selene intervened before the antipathy between the two degenerated any further. “How did you even know there was a populated planet here?”
“A Pre-Concordance star catalogue mentioned this world along with numerous others,” said Hessia. “There are many such planets around the galaxy; they may even be the norm. We forget that because they're less visible. And I like worlds that have no idea what is taking place among the stars, that doesn't know who Concordance are. There's a peace to such places.”
Ondo clearly wasn't going to let it go. “Worlds like this are divided into countless tiny domains, all scrapping for supremacy over a few kilometres of ground. You couldn't translate a phrase like human rights into any of their languages because the concept would be so alien. They probably treat disease by getting together and singing. It doesn't sound very peaceful to me.”
Hessia conceded the point with an amused grin, as if she was enjoying riling Ondo. “They have a long way to go, I agree, but you're not responding as an empath would. You do not feel the background hum of fear and resentment that's there on advanced worlds. It drives you mad in the end.”
“Because of Concordance?” Selene asked.
“A lot of it. That's the constant note, but each world finds its own unique way to be miserable, too. I'm not saying this world doesn't know war and horror and early death; I'm just saying that I could go there and find peace of mind. You'd be surprised how hard that is to achieve on high-tech worlds, especially if there's a Concordance
