Chapter 33 Dave
DAVE
The basement was an organized mess when the Eight got there.
The reinforced steel beams the engineers had installed formed a skeletal grid across the ceiling, their flanges bolted to cracked, stained concrete walls from the two collapses.
Temporary lighting had been strung along the beams, the industrial-grade fixtures casting harsh white light on some areas while others that hadn't been retrofitted with new lighting were encased in shadows.
The air was thick with concrete dust, and despite the portable ventilation units humming in the corners, the smell of pulverized stone was pervasive, with undertones of rusted metal and the chemical tang of construction adhesive.
A crew of twelve immortals was removing debris by hand.
They worked in pairs, one lifting a section of broken concrete or twisted rebar while the other cleared the space beneath and loaded the rubble into wheelbarrows.
Then the wheelbarrows were dumped into large containers, and once a container was full, a crane hauled it up through the hole in the backyard that the last collapse had opened.
Losham and his assistant stood at the foot of the ramp that replaced the damaged stairs, surveying the scene.
"I wanted you to see this," Losham said. "So, you know what we're dealing with."
The collective processed the scene through eight pairs of eyes, each one cataloging different aspects of the devastation.
Numbers Two and Three assessed the structural integrity of the support beams. Number Four examined the debris field for patterns that might indicate the direction of the collapse.
Number Five observed the soldiers, reading their surface thoughts for relevant information.
Numbers Six, Seven, and Eight cataloged the work sequence and security considerations.
"I was standing right here when the first booby traps went off.
" Losham pointed to a spot a few feet away, where a section of floor had been replaced with temporary plywood sheeting.
"Rami and I were watching the breach attempt on the glass enclosure.
The plasma cutter had just started to make progress when they went off, bringing the ceiling down.
Rami and I were thrown against that wall, but we were barely scratched. The humans were not that lucky."
Dave wondered why Losham was telling him things that he already knew.
"The second collapse was worse," Losham continued. "A support column gave way and the engineers can't tell me whether a second trap was the cause or if it was a consequence of the initial structural damage."
Number One just nodded, acknowledging Losham's monologue.
"Walk with me." Losham strolled away from the excavation site, his hands clasped behind his back.
"My brothers keep harassing me about what I expect to find here," he said when they were out of the crew's earshot.
"I made up a story about our father possibly hiding artifacts from the era of the gods. "
Dave had already extracted the entire exchange from Losham's surface thoughts, but they had to pretend interest so he wouldn't suspect that they were routinely doing that.
"What value is there in such artifacts?" Number One asked.
"Great value, but that's beside the point. The artifacts story serves our purposes because it excites their imagination and cannot be disproved until we actually reach the chamber."
Walking next to Losham's other side, Rami pressed his lips together, his expression indicating that he wasn't happy with this latest development, and Dave knew why, because they had collected those thoughts as well.
Still, it was a sign of trust that Losham was sharing this with them.
"What made you think of artifacts?" Number One asked.
Losham smirked. "It makes sense given the level of security my father employed.
Climate-controlled glass enclosure filled with sand that he had booby-trapped.
It was easy to convince my brothers that what he was protecting was irreplaceable and fragile.
Ancient objects from the gods' era fit that description perfectly.
As to the value, just imagine what providing evidence of the gods' existence and their alien technology would do to the world's monotheistic religions. "
That hadn't been one of the thoughts that the collective had skimmed.
"Alien? Are you saying that the gods were not terrestrial in origin?"
"It's speculation, but I know for a fact that Mortdh's teachings are propaganda.
The gods were not divine beings who descended from the heavens to bestow their wisdom upon humanity.
My father was not generous with information, but I inferred from the little hints he let slip from time to time that the gods came from an advanced civilization. "
The collective absorbed this with the thirst for knowledge that consumed them.
An alien race that possessed advanced technology had arrived on Earth, established itself, and then mostly vanished, leaving behind descendants who carried fragments of their genetic legacy but almost none of their knowledge.
"How did they get here?" Number One asked.
"I don't know. My father mentioned things over the years, when he was in a philosophical or sentimental mood, which didn't happen often. He talked about flying machines and tablets used for storing information and for communication. Those technologies shouldn't have existed back then."
Losham kept walking, the Eight following along with Rami, Losham's faithful shadow.
This is another example of love we can learn from, Number Three thought.
The collective acknowledged the statement.
It's one-sided, Number Eight thought. We want to learn what it feels like to love and be loved in return.
The collective acknowledged that as well.
"It makes sense that they arrived from somewhere else and lost contact," Losham continued.
"There weren't many of them, and they didn't reproduce their technology or share it with humans.
That suggests they either didn't know how to make more of it, or they lacked the materials, or both.
They were stranded with whatever they'd brought, and when it broke down or wore out, that was it. "
"Did any of their technology survive?" Number One asked.
"I only know about the things that my father mentioned.
I've never seen any evidence of alien technology myself.
He believed that Annani had stolen one of those tablets containing information about advanced technologies and that was why she managed to keep elevating human society despite all of the Brotherhood's efforts to keep humans ignorant and barbaric so they would be easy to conquer. She was a thorn in his side."
"Was?" Dave asked.
Losham shrugged. "We don't know what really happened to Lord Navuh. Perhaps he no longer worries about such things because he has passed to a better place."
The collective filed every piece of information with care.
Before the enhancement, the Eight had been ordinary soldiers with ordinary educations that ended at thirteen.
The training camp taught combat, discipline, languages, and just enough about the world to make them functional on deployment.
It did not teach history, science, or the true nature of the gods who had originated immortals by procreating with humans.
Everything they knew about the gods came from Mortdh's devotional teachings, which the collective had long since recognized as indoctrination rather than education.
The teachings were designed to produce obedient, fanatical soldiers who did as they were told, had no qualms about sacrificing themselves on Mortdh's altar, and didn't ask questions.
"My brothers were impressed by the story," Losham said, and the shift in his tone signaled that the history lesson was over and the real reason for this meeting was about to be presented.
"Hocken and Hazok were practically salivating at the idea of a religious upheaval.
Kolhood was less convinced, but he accepted the possibility that it could indeed be artifacts. "
Number One waited.
Losham had not told the Eight about the chests, but he should at least suspect that they were reading his surface thoughts and had found out. He knew they could do that for others, so why not him?
"I need something from you," Losham said.
There it was.
Losham never shared information for free. Every piece of knowledge offered was a down payment on a favor he intended to collect. The talkative tour of the basement and the history of the gods had been a preamble, and now came the ask.
"I need you to spy on the soldiers working here," Losham said, lowering his voice even further.
"Find out which ones are reporting to my brothers.
That also goes for anyone you encounter in or around the mansion.
I want to know who is watching this excavation on behalf of Kolhood, Hocken, or Hazok.
I want their names and what they've reported. "
"We can do that."
Their new immortal allies needed frequent progress reports about the excavations, and Dave could fulfill both requests by doing the same thing.
"There's something else." Losham's voice dropped further. "I want you to scan for assassination plans. Any talk among the soldiers, any instructions from the brothers' inner circles, anything that suggests a move against me."
"We haven't found evidence of such plans in our previous rounds, but we haven't been successful in infiltrating the brothers' inner circles. We don't have the rank."
It was a not-so-subtle hint, but perhaps Losham couldn't promote them because he wasn't part of the military complex. He probably needed to ask Kolhood, and he wouldn't do that for obvious reasons.
"Keep looking. Expand your scope. Probe as many minds as you can. If they are planning an assassination, I need to know and prepare accordingly."
"We will intensify our efforts," Number One said.