01-11-2015, 08:05 AM
He paced until the light and commotion faded away enough for a modicum of privacy, took sentinel against a wall, and flashed open the information Declan sent. There was a procedure that could insert implants into the eye, relegating such screens obsolete, but the perfected technology was extortionately priced even by Sören's standards. A delve into wisdom best saved for another day, though it would have been a useful addition right now. The holo-screens cast sickly light over his skin, opaque from the back. He read while he listened.
"They say a group of pilgrims incited the wrath of a local goddess with their disregard. She rained down hailstones the size of a man's fist, and threw the bodies in the lake."
There was a hint of humour in his voice; an insight unshared, but which may have sounded like ridicule. There was, after all, every chance that the folk story was more literal than figurative. After a moment's consideration, he forward the file on. His line was secure, as secure as he could make it at least, but the path the file took now was as if it simply disintegrated into the ether. If there was anything further of note in the area, he would soon know.
Otherwise, so far as he knew, the whole site was decaying; too remote to make a decent tourist trap, else ignored for other reasons. Financial. Administrative. They had dates for the skeletons, had recovered other historically interesting but otherwise unremarkable artefacts, and the rest had been left to rot. What had Declan's team even been there for? A question unvoiced, lest he find the answer uninteresting. Instead Sören considered the proposal. He was not an archaeologist, and the deaths of Declan's team did not give him enough reason to offer his help, even to bring the bodies back to grieving families. Something in so shallow a lake was also an uncertain lure, but perhaps only because he was still so fixated on the ring that had fallen through his grasp.
He needed to let that go. Or replace the obsession. After a moment's unapologetic silence, he gave his answer.
"You know I can't resist a mystery. I'll see you in New Dehli."
"They say a group of pilgrims incited the wrath of a local goddess with their disregard. She rained down hailstones the size of a man's fist, and threw the bodies in the lake."
There was a hint of humour in his voice; an insight unshared, but which may have sounded like ridicule. There was, after all, every chance that the folk story was more literal than figurative. After a moment's consideration, he forward the file on. His line was secure, as secure as he could make it at least, but the path the file took now was as if it simply disintegrated into the ether. If there was anything further of note in the area, he would soon know.
Otherwise, so far as he knew, the whole site was decaying; too remote to make a decent tourist trap, else ignored for other reasons. Financial. Administrative. They had dates for the skeletons, had recovered other historically interesting but otherwise unremarkable artefacts, and the rest had been left to rot. What had Declan's team even been there for? A question unvoiced, lest he find the answer uninteresting. Instead Sören considered the proposal. He was not an archaeologist, and the deaths of Declan's team did not give him enough reason to offer his help, even to bring the bodies back to grieving families. Something in so shallow a lake was also an uncertain lure, but perhaps only because he was still so fixated on the ring that had fallen through his grasp.
He needed to let that go. Or replace the obsession. After a moment's unapologetic silence, he gave his answer.
"You know I can't resist a mystery. I'll see you in New Dehli."
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