14. The Conservatory

There was a symbol on a mat before the front door.  The two men looked down, then looked at one another.

"The symbol of the gods," said Lord Myron. 

Indeed its pattern closely resembled the ancient Mayan calendar of Earth: a complex design of glyphs set in a series of rings around a centerpiece of what appeared to be a constellation.  The tricorder confirmed it to be the coordinates of their current position; Henly recorded it.

Lord Myron leaned towards Henly's ear and whispered: "Is he in?"

"No," Henly whispered, "no life forms detected."

"You should be aware that I have a proximity device of my own..."

"...and I do not register on it..."

"Correct."

"...then it's working."

"I was thinking more along the lines of: if you don't then it's possible that His Honour may yet be within."

"Yes well there's that, but my scanner is calibrated to detect an array of non-organic activities consistent with intelligent behavior."

"I suppose it would."

Henly smiled.

The door was unlocked.  The ground floor was unspectacular for the most part: a room with quaint knick knacks on surfaces and what looked like comfortable chairs with ornate upholstery.  There was a narrow spiral staircase in a far corner and set in shadow so as to escape notice from anyone not expressly looking for it.  Deep red wallpaper with golden frames depicting scenes and forefathers of Neo Adapolis.  An Oriental rug of high quality with the same symbol incorporated into the center.

Henly looked toward the stairway, where the sound was loudest.  He nodded and Lord Myron slipped up.  Henly followed.  The stairway wound into a grand conservatory.

The conservatory was jammed with a mixture of contemporary and future technology.  Scanner
Screens including a grid of energy readings throughout the city alternated with more ornately framed portraits and scenes of Neo Adapolis' history.  Bookcases filled with journals and tomes were everywhere.  A drafter's tabouret of scrolls with a starchart weighted down at the corners displayed this portion of the galaxy, only the stars' positions were shifted slightly.  Henly's camouflaged tricorder triangulated the coordinates; he raised his eyebrows, sending yet again a ripple to his forehead above his anagraphic goggles.

"This is not possible...," gasped Myron.

Henly turned in Myron's direction and took a good look at the central console for the first time.  It was not unlike the console they beheld in the sphere, only more technology populated its panels.  A great cylinder of etched brass rose from its center and rotated slowly: the source of the grating, metallic sound.  Static played above from branches of what looked like copper, illuminating the dome with flashes of blue and reflecting on the panes of the dome.  A flare of spectral light hung in the air like a rainbow in the midst of violent tongues of lightning.  How beautiful, he thought.

Making his way around the console, Henly found several cultures represented on its panels.  He stopped at an LCARS systems interface.