There were other kinds of difficulties. Volcanic eruptions, flooding rivers, intense storms. Then came the even more unsettling pictures of waning tribes. Cidra couldn’t watch the battle scenes. Such violence between Ghosts didn’t fit the mental image she’d always had. Severance watched with intent interest.
Regardless of the setbacks, natural disasters, and war, the Ghosts continued to expand as a species. They grew in numbers. In fact, Cidra noticed at one point that there were a great many images of children in the mural. Scenes of them playing, practicing with weapons, and going about their daily lives were frequent.
It was clear that the Ghosts were holding their own and beginning to thrive in the jungles of Renaissance. Small mechanical devices appeared. Technology began on a small scale. After that the little villages grew into towns. Gradually the jungle was tamed. It was never wiped out, but in the regions where Ghosts lived, it was under control.
Scenes shifted more and more rapidly, showing towns growing into cities. And then came the leap into space. The colonization of Lovelady was easy for a people who had tamed a jungle world. QED and Frozen Assets were also featured briefly, although it was obvious that they had never been fully colonized. The spaceships never left the Stanza Nine system as far as Cidra and Severance could tell. It was as if the explorers ran out of interest or energy.
Eons passed. How much time, Cidra had no way of knowing. But gradually things began changing again. The technological trappings of civilization began to fade in the scenes. They were replaced with pictures of translucent structures such as the one in which Cidra stood. The jungle was controlled now without obvious technology. Quiet, serene clearings were common, and in them, quiet, serene Ghosts went about their daily business. These people no longer had the undeniably aggressive element that had been so common in their ancestors. “They’re changing,” Severance said.
“Evolving. They’re developing mentally now instead of technologically.” Cidra was sure of her analysis.
“There’s something different about these pictures.”
She frowned. “What do you mean. ”
“Where are all the kids that were always running around in the earlier scenes?”
He was right. Cidra searched the new pictures, looking for some sign of the laughing, playing, practicing young Ghosts. Once or twice a youngster appeared, but it was becoming increasingly rare. As rare as a child in Clementia. She did see more of the gold wristbands, though. They were becoming a common form of jewelry. Almost all the Ghosts wore them.
The interaction between the Ghosts had changed too. There was no longer evidence of hostility or rivalry, no more open warfare. A sense of peace and gentleness pervaded the mural.
“It’s beautiful, Severance. They became a people of harmony and grace.”
‘Two worlds full of Harmonics. Must have been kind of dull.”
“Damn it, Severance! Why do you have to be so cynical?”
“It’s in the blood. I’d still like to know what happened to all the children.”
“Maybe they developed a very long lifespan and had to control their population.”
“Or maybe, like Harmonics, the Ghosts simply lost interest in sex and the results thereof.”
Cidra shifted uneasily, the memory of her own recent interest in that field plaguing her for a moment. Severance was studying the graceful illusions closely.
“I think there’s more than just a few kids missing here,” he finally said. “The whole population seems to be declining. There aren’t as many Ghosts as there were earlier. No sense of huge cities or bustling economies. Just more and more of these quiet little parks.”
Cidra felt a sharp pang of regret. “What’s happening, Severance? Do you think we’re coming to the end?”
He nodded slowly. “The population level is falling. No evidence of children being born to replace their parents. Fewer and fewer towns.”
“Maybe species just get old and die the way individuals do,” Cidra suggested. Her pang of regret was turning into a pervasive sadness.
“Or maybe this particular species took a bad evolutionary road.”
“At what point?” For some reason she felt defensive. “When they stopped, spreading outward and started turning inward. When they stopped having children. When they became more interested in mental and spiritual development and stopped worrying about keeping the species alive physically.” “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Severance. We’re only looking at pictures. We can’t know what really happened. We can only draw inferences.” Even as she argued, the images were fading. It was obvious that the civilization they depicted was fading too. The last picture was of a circular building carved from a single block of translucent stone. In it five Ghosts sealed the history of a species and then clasped hands. The golden bands they wore on their wrists glowed in unison for a moment. Serenely, effortlessly, without any sign of struggle or regret, the five died. When the image on the wall vanished, so did the five figures who had been projected into the room earlier. Cidra wanted to weep.
“That last structure was this place,” Severance observed as the image flickered and faded into the wall. “You were right. This is an Archive. Saints in hell. We’re going to be rich.”
Cidra was astounded: She brushed the moisture from her eyes to glare at him. “Rich? What are you saying?”
“We can sell the location of this place to any number of research companies or to the Harmonics. There’s enough in here to keep investigators happy for fifty years.” He swung around to face her. “Don’t look so shocked, Cidra. What did you plan to do with the information we’ve found here?”
She hesitated. “I suppose it will have to be turned over to some company to analyze. But it seems wrong to sell it. This is a precious discovery.”
“Damned right. We’ll find out just how precious when we put it up for sale.” He glanced at the chronometer on his utility loop. “Sweet Harmony. We’ve been in here for hours. It’s already the middle of the afternoon. We’ve got to get going.”
“Wait, Severance. I want to see what’s at the back of the room.”
“Later. I don’t know how I lost track of time so completely. Hours. Hours. We should have called for help early this morning. As it is, it might be another full day before a skimmer can reach us. That means we’ll probably be spending another night here in the jungle. Damn it to a renegade’s hell. How could I have let this happen?” As he berated himself he was hustling Cidra toward the door.