by E. C. Tubb
He looked for the last time at the city. It lay like a gem in the cupped palm of the hills, a cathedral or a tomb? Had those who built it lived to worship the mist? Had they, finally, succumbed to its attraction? Or had it been nothing more than an elaborate prison? A housing for paradise?
Dumarest turned and headed toward the ship. The city held nothing but illusion, and Earth, the real Earth, had yet to be found.
FB2 document info
Document ID: fbd-c94701-de06-d845-ad99-8ed7-6fa9-9cdada
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 07.03.2010
Created using: ExportToFB21, Fiction Book Designer software
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