by E. C. Tubb
* * *
"We're lost!" Sufan Noyoka glared his impatience. "So much for your skill, Marek. Give me time, you said, and you would produce a map of the city. Well?"
"A delay." Marek spread his hands, smiling, but his tone was sharp. "Do you expect a miracle? Those who built this place were clever. The chambers, the passages, all follow a mathematical precision designed to confuse. There are subtle turns and windings."
Dumarest said, "How far are we from the gate?"
"Who can tell? Without any point of orientation-"
"You don't know." Dumarest turned to Embira. "Can you krang the ship?"
"It lies in that direction." Her lifted hand pointed to an opening to the right of the one they had used.
"And the other?" Dumarest caught her shoulders and gently turned her to face in the opposite direction. "Can you see-krang anything?"
"Yess." She shivered, suddenly afraid. "Earl, I don't like it. It's strange, and somehow, menacing. Like some of the auras in the Cloud."
"A force field, Embira? An entity?"
"I'm not sure. Earl! Hold me!"
"Stop tormenting her!" said Pacula. "You know she is upset. We should have left her behind in the ship."
"We had no choice," said Dumarest. "Without her we would never have passed through the wall. And, without her to help us, we may never be able to leave the city."
"Earl?"
"Think about it," he snapped. "We are lost. The chambers form a maze and Marek admits he can't find his way back despite what he said at first. Only Embira can guide us."
"To the ship?"
"That and more." Gently he said to the girl, "Now try, Embira. Tell us in which way to go. Point with your hand and aim at the aura you see ahead."
"Earl! It hurts! I-"
"Try, girl! Try!"
Stare into the glow of a searchlight, the glare of a sun- how could he tell what it was like? But he had to use familiar analogies in order to even begin to understand her attribute.
"Earl! Don't! You can't hurt her like this!"
"Shut up, Pacula!" snapped Usan, and caught at her arm as she lunged forward. "Don't interfere! Let Earl handle things."
He said soothingly, "Just point, Embira. Just show us the way. Can you stop looking-kranging, if you want?"
To drop a mental shutter as a man would close an eye against too bright a light. An ability she must have if not to be driven insane by the pressure of surrounding auras.
"Yes, Earl. I have to concentrate. I-sometimes-there!" Her hand lifted, aimed at a point ahead and down. "There!"
"Is it close?"
"Closer than it was, Earl."
So Marek had not been a total failure. Dumarest stepped to the opening closet to where the girl had pointed. Beyond lay another chamber, more openings, one with a ramp leading downward. Again a featureless room, more openings, another extension of the maze.
He pressed on until he felt confused. "Embira?"
"There." More calmly now she lifted her hand. "That way, Earl."
They had diverged from the path. Dumarest found it again, striking out and down, finally coming to a halt before a blank wall. Openings ran to either side, one ramp leading up, the other down. A hundred feet down the slope Embira paused.
"We're going the wrong way, Earl. The aura lies behind us."
"The passage could turn." Sufan Noyoka was impatient.
"There could be another junction lower down. Hurry, let us find it."
"We're running like rats in a sewer," said Usan irritably. "Slow down, Sufan. Earl?"
"We'll go back."
"And waste more time?" Sufan bared his teeth. "The girl can guide us once we reach another chamber."
"She is guiding us. We'll go back."
Facing the blank wall, Dumarest said, "Point again, Embira. Marek, mark the direction of her hand. Good. I'm going to try something." He lifted the gun to his shoulder, aimed at where the girl had pointed. "Maybe these walls can be penetrated. The rest of you had better leave the chamber in case of ricochets. Pacula, warn the girl what I am about to do."
Marek said, "Two gun could be better than one, Earl."
Twice the fire-power, but twice the risk from wildly ricocheting bullets.
Dumarest said, "I'm protected, you're not. Go with the others."
As he left Dumarest opened fire.
The gun kicked against his shoulder as a stream of heavy slugs blasted from the muzzle to slam against the wall. Some ricocheted to whine like angry wasps through the chamber, one catching his back to rip his tunic, bruising the flesh, only the metal mesh buried in the plastic saving him from an ugly wound. Beneath the storm of metal the wall crumbled to show a small, jagged opening. Again Dumarest fired, swinging the barrel in a rough circle. A kick and shattered fragments rained to lie in a heap on the floor.
"Did it work?" Marek came running as the gun fell silent. He glanced at the opening. "Earl, you did it! I thought-"
"The wall would be as adamantine as the one surrounding the city?"
"Yes. A natural assumption. How did you know it would yield?"
"I didn't, but it was worth the chance." Dumarest fitted a fresh magazine to the gun. "Let's see what lies beyond."
They stared at a long, oval chamber, the roof softly glowing, the walls pierced with circular openings bright with red and yellow sunlight. The floor was thick with a heavy layer of dust, and on it lay the body of a man.
He rested as if asleep, one arm extended, the fingers curved. Only one cheek was visible, the face sunken, wreathed with a short beard. The eyes were open, glazed, the lips parted to show blunt and yellowed teeth. He wore a uniform of dull plastic, touches of green bright against the dark maroon, the colors barely visible through a coating of dust.
"A man," said Usan Labria. "And dead-but for how long?"
"Long enough." Marek stooped and brushed away the dust.. More had drifted to form a low ridge around the body. "Centuries, perhaps. He's mummified."
"How did he die?" Pacula stepped close to the girl and threw an arm protectively around her shoulders. "Are there signs of wounding?"
"Does he carry papers?" Sufan Noyoka frowned as he stared at the corpse. "Look, man," he snapped as Marek hesitated. "He's dead. He can't hurt you."
"Maybe not." Marek was acid. "But what killed him could. Disease, perhaps?"
"Not disease," said Dumarest. "My guess is he died of starvation or thirst." Turning the body over he searched the pockets. "Captain Cleeve Inchelan," he read. "His ship the Elgret. The date-" He looked up at the ring of attentive faces. "Three hundred years ago."
"And his crew?" Usan looked from one to the other. "What happened to his crew? His ship? We saw no ship."
"Lost in the Cloud, maybe," said Marek. "Or maybe they managed to get back and spread rumors. The treasure planet," he added bitterly. "The Ghost World. Well, there is one ghost at least, if such things exist. That of Captain Inchelan."
A man who could also have followed a dream, searching for a fabled world and the treasure it was reputed to hold. Or had he given birth to the legend? His crew making a safe landing there to spread rumor and wild imaginings?
Dumarest said, "How did he get into the city? How did he get here?"
"A raft?" Marek was quick to catch the implication. "Of course, Earl! How else? But why here?" His eyes searched the dust, lifted to one of the circular openings. "They must give to the open air," he said. "How else the dust? Maybe the raft is outside. If it is we could use it."
"After three centuries?" Usan Labria shook her head. "No."
"Why not? From the look of the dust there is little climatic variation here. The raft could be unharmed. If we could find it-Earl!"
Together they reached the circular window. Dumarest jumped, caught the lower edge, hung while Marek swarmed up his body, heaved himself upward in turn. Beyond lay a level area, the surface of the dust unbroken.
"The other side, perhaps?" Marek dropped and crossed the oval chamber. Again they looked th
rough an opening. "Nothing. He didn't leave it here, Earl."
Dumarest said, "He needn't have come alone. There could have been others."
"Who left him to starve?"
"Why not-if they had found treasure."
"Earl, you are a man with little trust in human nature, or perhaps one with too much knowledge of the power of greed. Is that what you think happened?"
"There is another possibility," said Dumarest. "He could have got lost. The raft could be somewhere in the city. He could have been looking for it and died before he found it." He added grimly, "As we could die. Our food and water is limited."
"You're worried about us being able to leave the city," said Marek. "You're concerned about the women. You surprise me, Earl. I would not have thought you afflicted with such hampering considerations. What will happen if we can't escape? Will you give them our rations? If that is your intention you could be due for a struggle. Sufan will let nothing stand in his way. Their lives mean nothing to him against the treasure."
"And you?"
"Earl, I will be honest. I came to find the treasure."
"And we may find it," said Dumarest. "But first we rest and eat."
The blue sun had risen when again they moved, a violet light blending with that of dull ruby, streamers of brilliance shrouding the dead man and reflecting from his staring eyes. His hand, extended after them, seemed to hold a silent plea, an appeal for help they could not give. The aid they carried had come centuries too late, the food and water which could have saved his life.
"That poor man," said Pacula somberly as they walked toward the end of the oval chamber. "Dying like that, alone on an alien world."
"Left by his crew." Usan paused, coughing, flecks of red staining her lips. "Damn this dust. Earl, will it be long now?"
"Not long. We must be close to the central spire."
"And after? When we've found the treasure?" She coughed again, then said, "I'm not a fool. We're in the city but how do we get out? The girl can guide us back to the wall but how do we get through it?"
"We'll get through it," said Dumarest. "The same way we came in."
"By waiting at the right place for the right time. And when will that be? A week? A month? I-"
"You worry too much," he said curtly. "Just think about staying on your feet. Can you manage?"
"I'll manage," she said. "I'm going to find that treasure even if I have to crawl. What will it be, Earl? Gems? Ingots of precious metals? Some new device? A fortune anyway. We'll all make a fortune and I'll-take care of the girl, Earl. Without Embira we're lost. Take damned good care of her."
"I will."
"Yes," she said, and then flatly, "are you in love with her?" Her smile was a grimace as he made no answer. "She's in love with you, Earl. The poor, blind bitch, I feel sorry for her and yet-" She broke off, looking at her hands. "And yet," she whispered, "I'd give my soul to have her body."
Chapter Fourteen
The chamber ended in a combination of smoothly concave surfaces blending into the mouth of a rounded opening giving on to more chambers, different this time, larger, the thin tracery of black lines almost covering the floor in their elaborate profusion. A ramp led up from the dust and again they plunged into a maze, simple this time, the walls forming broken barriers between chambers which grew higher and wider as they progressed.
Embira paused, wincing, one hand lifting to her forehead. "Close," she whispered. "Earl, it's so close!"
"In which direction?" He followed the gesture of her hand. "Blank it out, Embira, if you can. Stop hurting yourself."
"Earl, you care?"
"Need you ask?" His hand closed on her own. "We need you, girl."
From behind them Sufan Noyoka said, "Hurry. The treasure must be close. Hurry!"
"Why?" Usan Labria leaned against a wall, panting for breath. "No one is going to steal it, Sufan. No one but us."
"If there's anything to steal. Our dead captain could already have emptied the nest." Marek was cynical. "Prepare yourself for a disappointment, my friend. We could be too late."
A reminder which the man didn't appreciate. He snapped, "Don't try to be funny, Marek. Use your talent. If it has any value you should be able to tell us the location of the treasure."
"Why ask me when we have the girl? Can't she tell us, Earl?"
"She's done enough," said Dumarest. "And she has never claimed to be able to solve puzzles. That is why you are here."
"That's right, Marek, or did you come just for the ride?" Pacula, in defense of the girl, was quick to attack. "It's your turn to guide us."
"And I shall. Did you guess that I was proud? To be ignored can be hurtful to a man of talent. Given time I would have guided you, but I was not given time. And it amused me to know that, at any time, danger could have awaited in each and every chamber. A complication which, so far, we have been spared. But consider, my friends, would treasure be left unguarded?"
A question posed without need of an answer and Dumarest wondered at the spate of words. Was the man simply wasting time in order to gain an opportunity to arrange his thoughts? Or was he pressing their patience, risking anger and potential violence? A facet of his character which could never be forgotten. His whim could lead them into danger for the thrill of it. To toy with death to assuage his secret yearning.
Pacula said, "Must we have a lecture?"
"You want a simple answer?" His sudden anger was the flash of a naked blade. "There!" His hand lifted to point ahead. "At the heart of the city you will find the treasure-if it is to be found."
"You doubt?"
"Everything. Your smile, my dear, your greed, you concern. Nothing is wholly what it seems. This city, a place built for men or for what? Built to house or to hold? To guard or to retain? Every coin has two faces-must we only look at the one we find most pleasing to our eyes? Solve me a puzzle, you say, and do it now. Am I a dog to be ordered at your whim?"
An old wound opened by an unthinking comment. Dumarest said, "We need your skill, Marek."
"Have I denied it?"
"Then tell us, in your own way, what you have determined."
"Let us talk of treasure." Marek sat and took a sip of water from his canteen. From the way he tilted it Dumarest knew that the contents must be low. "What is treasure? To one it could be a bag of salt, to another a bow, a knife, a prime beast. Values vary, so what do we hope to find?"
"Money," said Usan curtly. "Or something we can turn into money."
"Works of art? A discovery which can be carried in the the mind or a heap of stone a hundred men couldn't lift?"
"You try my patience!"
"The voice of aggression," he said calmly. "Who are you not to be denied? A woman, old, dying. What challenge do you offer? None. And you Sufan. You too are old and consumed by greed. Why should I obey you? How can you make me?"
Dumarest said, "He can't. No one can. Now tell us what you know."
For a moment Marek remained silent, then he said in an altered tone of voice, "For you, Earl, yes. At least you are a man, and I think, one with understanding. Now consider this. Where in a normal city would you find the greatest concentration of treasure? On a commercial world it would be figures in a ledger or items in a computer-the interflow of credit and debit. A more primitive world and metal and gems would be stored in some vault. A religious one and the altar of the largest place of worship would be garnished with things of price. A military world would value weapons. An artistic one volumes of poetry, perhaps, or paintings."
"So?"
"The consideration determines the keeping. Now some rumors have it that the wealth of Balhadorha is the loot of a ravished world. The wealth of a planet heaped like a mass of stone, dumped and left to be found by any with the courage to look for it. We know better. It must be at the heart of this city. But is it large or small? If small then it could be anywhere within the central spire. If large then at or below ground level. Was it to be seen? Adored or examined, touched by the populace, or something h
idden?"
Dumarest said, "The chambers we passed through were all devoid of ornament."
"A shrewd observation. Which leads us to the conclusion that the inhabitants of this city had no time for artistic appreciation. Perhaps they were incapable of it. And they must have left centuries ago-otherwise they would not have permitted the dead man to remain where we found him. Where did they go and why did they leave?"
"If they left at all," said Dumarest. "But we're not interested in the city as such, only the treasure."
"But all are parts of the puzzle." Marek took another drink of water. "Down," he said. "I am sure of it. Down and at the center. It will be found, I am sure, at a point below the present ground level." Smiling, he added, "If there is anything there to find."
* * *
One day, thought Dumarest, the man's sense of humor would kill him. He would take one chance too many and the death he was in love with would reach out and take him. As Marek led the way Dumarest glanced at the others. Pacula, as had grown normal, guided the girl. Usan panted, coughing, her eyes bloodshot, streaks of red matching the flecks on her lips. The gun slung from her shoulder was forgotten. Sufan Noyoka's was not. He kept his hand on the weapon, the muzzle lifting to aim at Marek, falling as if by an effort of will, lifting again as if with a life of its own.
"No," said Dumarest.
"What?" Sufan turned, startled, his eyes a liquid darting. "What do you mean?"
"Don't hold your gun that way. There could be an accident and Marek is in the line of fire."
"He-"
"Annoys you. I know. And you must know that is exactly what he intends to do. He can't help it-but again, you know that."
"I do." Sufan lifted his hand from the gun and looked at it. The fingers trembled. "If we could do without him. The girl-"
"Can't lead us as he can. And with Jarv dead we still have to navigate the Cloud. She can help but only to a point. Control your anger."
"Yes, Earl, you're right, and you can see now why I needed you. At times like this tempers get frayed and no loyalty can be relied on. I don't trust Marek, he needs to be watched. If the whim takes him he will plunge us all into danger."
