Read Online The Other Tree by D. K. Mok - Free Book Online Page B

nametag and couldn’t afford to reprint it.”
    “You could tell people you’re Welsh.”
    Rnynw smiled wryly as she pushed her way into a cluttered room. The interior was piled high with crates and trays, boxes and bags, and was lined with shelves heaving under countless unidentifiable objects made from minerals, metal, and possibly hair.
    “I don’t spend enough time upstairs to talk to anyone.” Rnynw placed the tumbleweed on a desk half-submerged beneath a landslide of tiny wooden carvings. “I’m stuck down here classifying things that will never go on display.”
    “Things?” Chris perked up. “Like Sumerian tablets?”
    “Oh no! Things like that are kept in the prime vault in the secure sector, on the lockdown level near the roof under the guards’ unit.”
    Somewhere, a cricket chirped.
    “Oh.”
    “I do things like pre-historic orthopaedics and alien carvings,” said Rnynw, holding up a rough soapstone statuette of a humanoid with antennae.
    “Wow. That’s…”
    “Weird, I know. And crazy. Which is why these things will never go on display. They won’t throw them out, just in case, but they’d never put their name to them.”
    Chris picked up a clay urn depicting a weeping figure surrounded by middens of rubbish, a large stylised diamond floating above its head.
    “Strange things can be fun,” said Chris. “They make people ask questions. Canals on Mars, chariots of the gods, who built the moon. Questions strengthen good theories and expose the flaws in bad ones. I think it’d be fun if the museum had an exhibition of all your strange artefacts. I bet it’d pull a crowd.”
    Rnynw contemplated this, turning the tumbleweed in her hands.
    “So, you’re interested in Sumerian tablets?” said Rnynw.
    “Just one,” sighed Chris. “I don’t suppose you have any photos, or know anyone with a spare guard’s uniform?”
    “No. But I know who we got our tablet from. And where you can find him.”
    * * *
    A blue light strobed slowly across the room as the scanning laser crawled over the clay tablet. Docker’s eyes reflected electric blue as he watched, unblinking.
    “How many more?” he asked.
    “Just the radiotrophic isotopic scan on the verso,” replied Roman as her fingers beat rapidly across the touchscreen.
    The black and chrome-banded scanner hung over the small tablet like a huge, predatory insect, the glowing slit charging up for the final scan. With a deep hum, the blue light filled the room again, sliding across the clay.
    Halbert watched the proceedings with a sense of unease. The SinaCorp delegation had performed over a dozen tests and scans on that tablet, without giving any reason for their intense interest. In his experience, obsession led down a dangerous path, usually to poverty, ridicule, and poor hygiene. However, the smartly dressed professionals before him represented a different brand of obsession. It was the difference between a crackpot wielding a stick of stale bread, and a sniper with a scud missile. In Prada.
    As the scanner light faded, Roman sat very still for a moment, staring at the touchscreen from behind dark sunglasses. Her expression was unreadable, but every muscle seemed to tense as she resisted the urge to say something. Halbert leaned forward, and Roman flicked off the screen. Bale dismantled the scanner with practiced efficiency, folding it neatly into a guitar-sized case.
    “Thank you for your time, Mr. Vesina,” said Docker. “Good luck with your toad problem.”
    “Wait—” said Halbert, as Bale lifted the tablet carefully into a foam case. “Where are you taking that?”
    “We’ll be borrowing your artefact,” said Docker. “I’m sure your patrons won’t miss it.”
    “We would normally expect security on such a rare item,” said Halbert, with the distinct feeling that he was stepping off a cliff in the hope of sprouting wings.
    Docker gave Halbert a smile, but his eyes held a completely different message. Bale and Roman finished