a warning."
"A . . . warning, Mr. . . . Jason?"
"I can't—nor would I—try to tell you not to continue your line of research. However, I do have to caution you; you've heard the old expression 'Things Man Was Not Meant To Know,' of course?"
She gave an uncertain chuckle. "Um, yes . . . ?"
"I never gave much credence to that idea myself, but as it turns out, there are some things that . . . well, not to go into detail, but Things That Put Man Or Woman In Real Danger If They Know. Your research has just uncorked one nasty genie from a bottle; there are worse genies—some of them forces that just don't want certain things known. Think paranoid. Then think worse. I'm already in the soup, so to speak—there's no way for me to reduce my danger."
"And is there for me—aside from abandoning these sites, which I really cannot imagine doing?"
"I'm not sure. Legitimate archaeological work can't be stopped, after all, and even if you did stop on my vague say-so, someone else would surely try their hand."
She was quiet for a moment. "Is the danger in question other things like this Maelkodan, or are you more referring to just the fact of our knowing and publishing certain things?"
"The latter more than the former, although as we have both discovered, the former isn't to be discounted."
She thought for another few moments. "Mr. Wood, could you, personally, recognize these dangerous elements if you saw them?"
"I think so," I answered cautiously. In point of fact, I could probably recognize most dangerous subjects, and with Verne and Raiakafan to back me up . . . "Yes,