She looks at the doorknob, and then at the sign. It says MEN'S.
"Ugh," Mahua says.
"Managed to break into the girl's toilet yet?" Anita asks sarcastically, coming up from behind her, hands on her hips. "Oh, or are you into harassing men now?"
Mahua calmly raises a middle finger at her, and the other girl laughs uproariously. "I did tell you that you'd need to do your business before the bus left campus!"
"What kind of place doesn't have a working toilet facility, though?" she says. She looks at the sign in disgust. "I don't think anyone is trapped in there, but if they are, I hope they stay there forever."
"You're going to end up jinxing yourself one of these days," Anita warns her, and she falls into step with the other girl. "Let's go check the other end of the museum. They dug it up recently, and it *should* have like...a pit or something."
"Can't wait to get a urinary tract disease," Mahua says, voice deadpan. She runs her fingers through her hair, letting the soft curls of her ponytail bounce around her bare shoulders. Some of the museum staff they pass side-eye her, and she ignores them. There's no way she's keeping her jacket on when she's sweating buckets and the A/C's broken, especially not when she's wearing nothing but a tank underneath paired with her capris. Anita is faring better, in her light blue salwar-kameez, that looks like it weighs nothing at all on her. (This is sarcasm. That thing looks like it weighs a ton, but Anita is tall and athletic and as far as Mahua is concerned, her antithesis.)
"Better to get a UTI than actually pee your pants. Don't do that unless you're desperate."
"Please never talk to me again," she informs her. "Why are you going in this direction, anyway?"
"Professor told me I had to keep an eye on delinquents," Anita has the audacity to say. "You definitely count after you tried breaking into the men's toilets."
Mahua, being an atheist, prays to Shiva for patience, which more or less means she wishes for him to strike either her or her annoying tag-along down. "You could just show me the way, and ask the museum staff later?! Don't you have students to supervise?"
It is at this point that she runs bodily into someone, jerking back so fast that they might as well be a solid wall. She blinks, and sweats, re-adjusting herself and going ramrod straight when she realizes that it's Professor Goddard.
Professor Goddard is the equivalent of a lion in a sheep's pen. Yes, in that order. She has no idea why the man decided to pursue History when he towers over most of the staff and looks like he could trample half the students in the class underfoot with one flex of his biceps. He's also only been around for only a year, so Mahua has no clue why the university trusted him with a class full of rowdy undergrads and three teaching assistants to supervise them - two of whom are definitely not teaching or assisting. Well, fuck.
"Oh, it's you." He doesn't look particularly pleased to see either of them on this side of the museum. "Where are the rest of the students?"
"With Azmi. Sir," Anita adds hastily. "I had to escort Mahua here to the toilets -"
"Miss Sharma," Professor Goddard interrupts. "Assuming you're quite done, I'd like to borrow Miss Kanan here for a bit. I'd like her opinion on one of the artifacts here. You should go check that Mr. Azmi hasn't made half the undergrad class set the place on fire yet downstairs."
Anita's face turns an approximation of purple. It would be beautiful to watch, if Mahua wasn't terrified herself. "Yes, sir. I'll be right back, sir."
"You, come with me," Goddard says, and turns on his feet. Mahua has no choice but to follow, crying on the inside. Her bladder gurgles uncomfortably, and if Anita, that absolute witch, has actually jinxed her, she will find her and she will kill her. They pass through the corridor, before coming out into the large balcony in the shape of a perfect nonagon that overlooks the exhibits below, with interspersed windows that let them look out into the stars. The Museum of Advanced Spacefaring History stands overlooking the city of New Laher, in the state of Middle Asia. They're here for a class trip because few people can afford this place otherwise - the living costs are too high, especially for students. New Laher is almost entirely a tourist trap, with hotels spiraling into the clouds and tiny floating restaurants.
In contrast, the museum stands out like a sore thumb. Built last century, it is neither as grand nor as perfectly engineered as the rest of the buildings. Mahua thinks the building possesses a lot of charm, however.
"It's the nonagon shape," Professor Goddard says, almost as if he's reading her thoughts when she greedily takes in the beautiful structure. "Ancient civilizations used to pay special attention to shapes, and anything times three was said to be powerful."
"Third time lucky, and all," Mahua agrees, following him around the balcony. He takes a wider corridor now, this one leading to a flight of stairs that go up. "Where are you taking me, Professor?"
"The newest batch of artefacts from the Indus Valley excavation sites came in a while ago," he tells her, and Mahua startles back, eyes wide. "Yes, don't look at me like that, it's only been a day. They're saying that they had potentially -"
"Formed the base for spacefaring?" She blinks in disbelief. "That's...unprecedented. Even the script was only deciphered a few years ago."
Professor Goddard actually smiles this time, knowing exactly what she's thinking. "You're wondering why a researcher like yourself was not made aware of it as soon as it was sent over? It's because it's classified information. The government doesn't want to let people know, in case...overtures are made. You know we're still at a standstill regarding talks with neighbouring countries after the wars."
"Fair enough," she says grudgingly. They climb the stairs two at a time, both of them speeding up in their excitement. Her hands are actually a little shaky. "But Professor - spacefaring? They didn't even have the required infrastructure."
"But they had set up contact with faraway Europe, even when the Strait didn't exist," he reminds her. "Overland trade was definitely more preferred, as we saw in the Silk Route later, but we still have evidence to believe that even later civilizations were very aware of flying humans."
"It was certainly the collective dream," Mahua agrees, pushing up her glasses. "Before space."
"Before space. And we have reason to believe they discovered either. Or even both." He takes a sharp turn into the next corridor as soon as they reach the second floor, and after following him Mahua finds herself in a storage room, the key hanging from it. Her bladder is still attempting to crawl out of her bowels, but it has calmed down significantly in her excitement. She squats amongst the giant boxes, and her eyes bug out at the miniature map in one of the fibreglass cases.
"Is that an overhead map of the Indus?" She asks, picking it up. The drawing looks so lifelike it might as well be a photo.
"And the Saraswati," Goddard confirms. "But that's just the beginning of the mystery, even if it counts as conclusive evidence of air travel." He is currently rummaging in one of the other boxes. He pauses for a second, and then picks up something in a transparent package.
"This," he says. He hands it to her, and she takes it reverently, blinking at the shape. It's a…
"This is a Tiger Goddess Seal, isn't it? Except it's carved into a gemstone." she says. "How bizarre. I'm fairly sure I've seen people sell this exact version before to tourists, only it was four-sided. Like the one you see on WikiPedia."
"It's the original," Goddard says.
She gapes. "The - the original?" She holds it against the light, and blinks at how it glitters. "This gemstone? Oh? Isn't this peridot?"
"A peridot carved into a nonagon, yes, with the Tiger Goddess etched in. Note that they definitely did not have the ability to mine these, since peridot deposits were very rare in their area of influence and trade." He squats down next to her. "Notice the facets. They're all perfectly done, and in perfect multiples of three." He looks at her solemnly. "Some of the proportions suggest that the people capable of doing this were at the very least acquainted with decimal numbers."
"That's…" Mahua finds herself at a loss for words, her mind reeling as to what it means for the community. "Professor, are you sure you want me to have this?"
"Yes," he says firmly. "Keep it with you, and whatever happens, do not let go of it. I have a bad feeling about the press conference we're supposed to do today, and you already know quite well that wars begin in the most peaceful areas."
Mahua nods. She almost puts this in her backpack, before she reconsiders and slips it inside her well-chained capri pocket. "Have the rest been told?"
"No," Goddard shakes his head. "This is a directive from the government, and I know you've been communicating with your friend in it. He's the one that told me to tell you - good luck."
Of course it was Vinny. Only he's capable of being this dramatic. She almost rolls her eyes. Instead, she smiles gratefully. "Thank you, Professor, I will definitely not let you down!"
He ruffles her head, and Mahua feels fifteen for a second, batting that thought away with a frown. "It's almost time for the conference, so I hope you have your speech ready."
"F- Yeah, yeah, I do," she says hastily. She swings her backpack back on her shoulders as she stands up. "Aren't you coming with me?"
"I'll stay back to rearrange the boxes, actually," he says. "There are very few people who know about this delivery at all, and I'd rather not let any of the undergrads know what's going on here. There's enough danger involved."
Mahua nods hesitantly. She sees her reflection in one of the copper-shined mirrors in the corner, held up carefully, and frowns. Her hair looks wild from all the running, and she's sweating more than ever, even with her jacket tied around her hip. She's very glad for deodorant, or she would smell something awful. Paired with her glasses and expensive combat boots, she looks like the last person who would be harbouring a government secret. Especially taking her terrible athletic skills into account. If she started running, she'd be dead in a second.
She doesn't look back over her shoulder before she leaves, overtaken by a feeling of urgency. Apparently her bladder has decided it has had enough once and for all, and is acting up again. Mahua curses as she tries to figure out the way back to the other side of the museum, running through the corridors as best as she can with her horrible stamina.
Mahua pauses in the middle of her run, currently extremely lost. The museum guidemap on her phone says that there's another trio of toilets on the third floor, but she definitely can't find them in the convoluted structure.
Her phone rings as she's staring at the map, the call coming to the forefront as she's trying to check it. It's Anita, because of course it is. She groans.
She takes the call. "Yes, Anita, what is it now?"
There is a silence on the other end. "Anita?" she tries again. The poor lighting in this side of the building doesn't help the eerie lack of noise that follows. "Hey, you're scaring me. Did Azmi actually burn down some exhibits?"
"Mahua Kanan?" A voice says, and it is no voice she has heard from the other end of a phone, but one she intrinsically knows. Her feet freeze to the ground. "Oh, so it is you. I needed to talk to you."
"What," she says, still frozen. She can't see herself, but she knows her eyes are blown wide, trying to process exactly what she's hearing.
"If you want to save yourself, in the next three minutes -" Mahua Kanan says, from the other side of the phone, "- start running, and hope you find a functioning toilet."
Mahua runs. She runs like the museum actually is on fire, almost forgetting to consult her phone as she dodges the corners of corridors and rushes up a flight of stairs. She does not stop to consider exactly what she had heard, and how it could be possible, or whether she can potentially outrun something that is clearly out to get her.
She stops in front of another three toilets (MEN, NB, WOMEN), and instinctively reaches for the MEN's door.
It swings open, and she slams it shut behind her.
At first, nothing happens. Then she starts hearing noises and gunshots. Someone screams in the distance, and the building starts to shake a little as the shots increase. Mahua mutes her phone and slides to the floor, shaking, her bladder troubles forgotten for the second.
What the fuck, I'm going to die! I'm going to die! All I wanted was a place with a functional toilet! It's been three times already! She closes her eyes, almost tearing up. She can't even use the toilets in here, all things considered.
Mahua opens her eyes, and unclenches her fingers. She stares at the ceiling.
It's made of bricks.
Mahua blinks, and stares again. She retracts her hand from her pocket, where she had been clutching the Tiger Seal.
"Uh." She gets up, and cautiously looks around her. There are several people surrounding the - altar? - she's on, and gaping at her openly. The women are mostly clad in severe white linen, with some in purple and gold, and the men all have shawls of some sort over their bodies.
The dude standing right in front though, is completely shirtless. Mahua would appreciate the thought, if the girl standing next to him wasn't also shirtless. What the fuck, did I wander into a nudist beach?
They also look highly uncomfortable at the fact that she's wearing any clothes, if the disturbed glances towards her chest are any indication, so she supposes it's fair.
Wait. Backtrack. This looks like an official ceremony. A coronation, maybe? There's a jar of what looks like wine in front of her, and by the structure of the building, this looks like an ancient temple. Perhaps - a wedding ceremony?
Mahua has always topped Ancient History. This is not going to help her if the ancient coronation ceremony she has gatecrashed isn't part of a movie shooting. Which it most definitely isn't.
"Who are you?" the extremely displeased hot dude (with a sword, of course he has a sword) who has been standing to the side of the two half naked people, dressed in only a towel (a toga?) asks, and somehow her brain processes the answer as the ancient - the ancient language of the Indus Valley - WAIT.
Is that a map of the Indus laid out on that tapestry? The one she had seen in that storage room, except in large, almost life-like glory?
Oh, my god, she's four thousand years back in the past.
Everyone is still staring at her, waiting for an answer. Mahua sweats, and then makes an impulse decision.
"I," she announces, "am a Sacrifice."
There's a pin drop silence in the hall. Mahua regrets her words almost immediately, before realizing exactly how she could use this to her advantage.
"And," she adds, with her bare-bones knowledge of the language. "It is time for my daily ablutions, since the Goddess willed it, so can anyone show me to the baths?"