The bears had been the dominant species on the American continents for more than thirty thousand years. They built mound cities, possessed an elaborate cosmological mythos with numerous gods of place and sky and sea, fought endless wars and enslaved the ancestors of the natives, using them for labour, farming them for meat, hunting them. And after a pandemic robbed them of reason, their civilisation had collapsed and they had degenerated to crazed predators that attacked on sight and fought to the death with rivals over the boundaries of their territories. In the past century, most feral bears had been killed or trapped and transported to the far northern reaches of the continent, but although it had been necessary for their safety and survival, the natives, who abhorred violence amongst their own kind, were still ashamed of this pogrom. And didn’t like to acknowledge their debt to bear civilisation either, even though traces of its techne and culture permeated every aspect of their lives.

Bear civilisation had fallen more than six hundred years ago, long before Mother had guided the seedship back to Earth. But any hint that humans might have met and coexisted with them before First Contact with the natives, impossible though that was, would be rocket fuel for the separatists’ claims that humans could not be trusted, any relationship with them was dangerously one-sided, and they were not friends but colonists. Potential overlords.

So perhaps Mitkos was right. Perhaps the best outcome of Ysbel’s investigations would be incontrovertible proof that the map was a recent fake. Bait for some kind of scam devised by Solomon Firststar, or part of a plot by native malcontents. She did a deep dive into the bureau’s records, finding no evidence that any of the natives entangled in the affair had ever worked for or had any previous contact with its officers and agents, sending queries about them to S&S and the other frontline agencies. While waiting for their replies, she asked Ilan Karasson for a little archaeological advice, and afterwards told Mitkos that she had found something that might confirm the map’s authenticity.

‘Did you find the original carving?’ Mitkos said.

‘Not yet. But I have found the city.’

‘What city?’

‘The bear city, on the map. The city next to the figure. It shows up in one of the satellite surveys, and I triangulated it with two of its nearest neighbours. It’s just offshore, sunken under shallow waters, but reachable with the right equipment.’

‘No,’ Mitkos said.

‘A survey wouldn’t cost very much. Most of the work could be done by bots. And if we found the original of the map, or something similar—’

‘Archaeological investigations aren’t part of the bureau’s remit. Go back to the records, Moonsdaughter. Dig for links between separatists and the bailiff and the dealer and the rich fellow, and don’t come back until you’ve found something useful.’