Free Forge of Heaven by C. J. Cherryh Page A

conjunction with those flood basalts, had predated the ondat attack, in a previous period of vulcanism, on a planet whose plates had been locked, immobile. That was very, very old rock, that spine. It was an access to incredibly old rock. He imagined Geology was in a froth at the moment. He anticipated requests 5 2 • C . J . C h e r r y h
    for samples, and almost took it on himself to request Marak collect them.
    He had notions of a very presumptuous memo, was making notes on every geologic hint Marak gave him about the age and orientation of the strata there, whether the rock that had been eroded off the spine was actually the same as the Plateau Sandstone across the gorge, as most geologists thought, or whether it was more like the floor of the pans, where there was also some suspicion of deep volcanic rock. In either case, the basalt layer was much thinner than they had thought. That meant an exposure of—granted extreme uplift—much older rock below?
    And dared he, two years on this job, and with only a recent course in geology of the region, contact Geology with his speculations? If it was not Plateau Sandstone, if the oddly formed spine was actually an exposure of a piece of an older coast that had rammed in here during a previous tectonic activity, they might get something of a magnetic record of prior orientation of the spine.
    More, in those exposed lower strata of the spine, there might even lurk a fossil record, life predating not only the ondat but the Ila’s own interference in the ecosystem. That was the Holy Grail of planetary explorations. Fossil records were incredibly scarce, in the one inhabited area of the planet where they could get to them to collect them.
    He hoped he was going to get a request from Geology tomorrow, when they’d read Marak’s observations, and more, when the new relay put a camera active on the site, and Geology got a much closer look at the area . . . he had an idea they would make urgent requests for all kinds of samples.
    But, God, when the Wall did break, they might well see the flood penetrate through cracks and fissures right into the Needle Gorge, flooding it all, along with the pans, carrying away the spine, so if there was any older record in the rocks, they would lose it once that happened.
    So Marak needed to get those rock samples.
    And his monitors and the room lights were about to turn off. He had to leave. If he didn’t clear the room before the systems wanted to lock down, the tap supervisor would tell him about an overstay in no uncertain terms.

    Fo r g e o f H e a v e n • 5 3
    Morning was soon enough to make a memo to Geology. It had to be. He wanted, tomorrow, to get a library search on southern fossils. He wondered if he dared pursue it all the way to Geology.
    Maybe to Chairman Brazis’ office. Hello, sir. I’m Marak’s junior-most watcher, with two years of basic geology. I think I’ve just found prior life.
    Ambition had some sensible limits.
    “Board, key out. Door open.” The system had a voice lock, and it answered. The screens simultaneously went dark, all around the room. When he came back in the morning, and only in the morning, the door would let him in, at earliest, 0930h. The fact was, he didn’t actually rent this apartment: Planetary Observations owned it. Specifically, the Project did, and had made its own alterations, and he wasn’t allowed down here or onto the downworld tap except at his strictly regulated hours of duty. The Project didn’t want its taps negotiating their own hours or collaborating with each other on their reports.
    So his day’s work was done, forcibly so. He let the door lock behind him and took the day’s cup and saucer upstairs to the main floor to put into the kitchen washer, all on autopilot. He was still thinking about that landscape Marak had described, still imagining that river gorge and the strata of the spine as he went upstairs and shed the work sweats.
    He took a quick pass through the shower,