"Not glass."
"Poured quartz?"
"Silica‑based, anyway. That's not all." He handed it over.
Her arm dropped a centimeter before she could recover from the initial surprise. "My god, that's heavy. Any ideas?" She turned it slowly in her hands, examining the metal.
"Alloy of iridium; something in the platinum group, anyhow. Hard to say for certain just looking at it."
Homat could not understand tine strange alien words, nor was he sufficiently versed in metallurgy to comprehend even if the Redowls had spoken in his own language. It did not matter, because regardless of what the humans decided, he know what this spirit home was constructed of.
Solid sunit.
More sunit than jreal addicts saw while lying dazed and doped on their dream‑couches. More sunit than the most avaricious philosophers could conjure up in their imaginations. More sunit than even Moyts possessed.
Tile old merchant's story was true, his dying admonition to the Zanur of Po Rabi founded on fact. He had been to this place of spirits and had returned with the proof of his tale. Homat swelled with pride. No Tsla had visited the spot before, but an old Mai had done so. I‑Its travels had killed him, but not before he had made truth his tombstone. And of all the Mai only he, Homat, had duplicated that epic journey.
Not all the strange shapes and terrifying forms were pure sunit, but there was more than enough laying about to shock the members of the Zanur who had sent him on the journey in the guise of a scout. Here was wealth enough to buy more than businesses and trading vessels, storehouses of grain or gems or the services of others. Here were riches sufficient to buy a city‑state entire, to purchase all of Suphum or Ko Phisi‑ or both.
Enough wealth to purchase the world.
Stunned by the visions before him, he wandered among the spirit buildings, hardly daring to touch the solid gray masses of the precious metal. Lyra warned him not to stray too far. She was concerned by the obvious effect the discovery was having on their Mai guide, though she did not realize its source.
Some of the constructions towered two hundred meters toward the ceiling of the cavern, where the ice cap had drawn away from the metal. The reason for such spaciousness was self‑evident, revealed by mere touch. Much of the metal surrounding them was comfortably warm.
"Not a great deal of heat," Etienne commented, "but a lot of energy is involved. Some kind of mechanism is still functioning here, protecting this place from encroachment by the ice."
"No sound," she replied.
"Insulation. Makes sense in a cold place."
"It's more than that," she said, running her fingers over the smooth frost free flank of a contorted metal ellipse. "There's nothing moving anywhere, no vibration from within. I think the heat may be a characteristic of the alloy." Removing one of her gloves, she searched the ground until she found a short thick chunk of the yellowish material.
"This has broken away. See the ragged edge?" She leaned back. "Probably fell from somewhere higher up. There's no telling how long it's lain here, but it's just as warm as the intact stuff. Generation of heat's a property of the metal. The damn stuff's exothermic."
"All right, I'm convinced. And not only is it exothermic, I think the property's variable. The temperature of the metal is just high enough to hold back the ice without melting a big hole in the ice cap."
"Maybe," she said quietly, "this installation was built before the ice cap moved so far south. Maybe the glaciers moved over and around it, burying it here."
"That would make this place a minimum of ten thousand years old, given what little we know of Tslamaina's geological history." She said nothing.
They continued their examination, but they found nothing to suggest the nature of the builders. Everything was a solid mass, seemingly formed whole from molds. They found no doorways and no windows, nothing to hint at the builders' size or shape. Only smooth‑sided featureless geometric forms. Equally striking was the absence of visible controls.
"If this is a fully automated installation," Lyra pointed out, "designed to function for a long period of time without supervision, there would be no reason to expose sensitive controls to the cold."
"Possible. We'd have a better idea if we could tell whether it's operating now, or dormant, or kaput."
"Instruments," she murmured. "Sit down and rest, Etienne. I'll be back in a minute." She turned and jogged toward the hydrofoil, gathering up the two Tsla as she ran.
With their help she set up several sensitive probes next to the hull, aimed them at their discovery, and began to take readings. Some of the instruments operated efficiently from a distance while others required her to pass among the structures with remote sensors.
Except for the heat emanating directly from the metal, from the standpoint of radiant energy the enigmatic erections were dormant. The residual readings that appeared on the instrumentation matched the output of their flashlights and the hydrofoil's batteries. Though the examination could hardly be considered exhaustive, considering the limitations of their equipment, the Redowls agreed that regardless of what the constructs had been designed to do, they weren't doing anything now.
A library search informed them that self‑exciting exothermic metal alloys had existed only in theory‑until then. As for the machines themselves, their design did not match the technological architecture of any known civilization.
However old it was, most of the alien technology seemed to be in excellent condition. Though fragments littered the ground, there was no evidence of extensive degeneration within the metal or ceramics themselves.
While they couldn't give a date to the installation or a name to its builders, they could determine the composition of the materials used. In addition to iridium, Etienne noted the presence of two dozen alloys that defied chemical and spectroscopic analysis, including one thin metallic whip that the computer insisted was an alloy of metallic sodium, despite the fact that in the damp air of the cavern there wasn't the slightest evidence of oxidation on its shiny surface. When they dipped it in the, river and nothing happened, the Redowls thought they could hear Homat's beloved spirits move a little closer.
Much of the spirit boat was still strange to Tyl, and he was having trouble finding the fresh lightning pack that Lyra called a battery cell. He rummaged carefully through the storage bay, trying to disturb as little as possible. A noise overhead caused him to pause.
Curious, the Tsla climbed the walkway. His snout was extended, the tip probing the air. The sounds drew him up from the hull, through the second deck grad onto the upper. He walked past the humans' sleeping quarters, past the place of food they called the galley, until he was standing in the passage that opened into the open bubble of the cockpit. He stared for a long moment before speaking.
"What do thee here, Mai?"
Startled, Homat spun around. When he saw who confronted him he relaxed. "I am simply curious. We Mai are always curious about new things."
Tyl gestured with his snout, a mildly insulting display. "Thee should be outside helping our friends."
"I know, I know. I'll be there again soon. But it's so cold out there, so cold." He shivered.
"I am cold outside also, but the coldness is settling now inside me."
"I don't understand you, meditator."
“Thee linger too long and too frequently over the important places of this craft. For several days now I have noticed this. Thee have always stared as our friends worked here, but never mare so since the attack by the Na. I think that this interest has escaped the attention of our friends, who though sophisticated in many ways are childishly naive in others. They are preoccupied with their study of our world and ways. But I am not so occupied, nor so naive. This unnatural interest of thee must be remarked upon." He turned to leave.
"Stop there, meditator!" The chill had suddenly slipped from Homat's body into his voice.
Slowly Tyl turned. His gaze fell to the device the Mai clutched firmly in his left hand. I
t was heavy for the sixfingered grip and Homat had to support part of it with his other hand. But the correct end was pointed at Tyl. He had seen the device in operation often enough to know that much.
"Mai," he whispered, managing to combine a whole paragraph of insults into the inflection he wrapped around that single noun.
Homat was neither impressed nor intimidated. The Tsla usually overawed the Mai, but not him, not Homat. The hairy ones were bigger and stronger, but not necessarily smarter. No, size was no indication of intelligence, as he fully planned to prove.
"Do you know what this is?" he said, enjoying himself thoroughly as he gestured with the device he held. "This is the humans' lightning thrower. I have seen it operate many times. It may be difficult to build, but it is very simple to use." He pointed toward the clip holsters attached to the lower part of the control console.
"They sit there in their little homes, drawing strength from the spirit world until they are ready to serve the humans. These spirits are stupid. They do not respond to sacrifices or prayers or offerings, but will serve any who learn the rituals of operation. I have made an extensive study of such rituals these past many months."
"To what end?" Tyl inquired softly even as he estimated the distance between them.
"You have seen the sunit that sleeps here, and the other metals. Enough wealth to buy half the world."
"I am sure," Tyl said carefully, "that the humans would not object to thee returning with enough of the gray metal to make thee wealthy until thy passing."
"I'm sure they would allow me to bring a small amount, but not any more than would interfere with the plain rocks de‑Etienne has already collected, for example. Why should I bow and scrape for a beggar's pouchful when I can have all that the spirit boat can carry?" He produced a thin Mai smile. "I can have the spirit boat itself. The sunit will make me master of Mai. This vessel can make me master of the Groalamasan."
Tyl's initial anger dissolved into sadness and pity. "Poor Mai. Thy dreams are so much larger than thy body."
"Are they?" said Homat hoarsely. "I planned to wait, but you push me toward delightenment. The Tsla have always pushed the Mai. In the end we will overwhelm you. See, how simple the humans' spirit devices are to work? You just touch this little round thing here..."
Etienne looked up from the base of the metallic mass he was studying, using the crutch Lyra had fashioned for him from a scoop net, and glanced back toward the boat. The glare from the two powerful spotlights made him squint.
"Did you hear something, hon?"
Lyre lifted her eyes from her work. She was trying to decide if some scratches they'd discovered on one wall might be writing. "Hear what?"
"The boat. I thought I heard something arc."
She shrugged. "Missed my ears."
He thought a moment, glanced to his right. "Yulour. Did thee hear anything from the spirit boat?"
The patient Tsla was sitting on the ground, playing with some colored stones. "I heard nothing, Teacher."
Just then Etienne saw a shape approaching them. "Here's Homat. Maybe he heard something."
Lyre returned to her studies and Etienne waited until their guide emerged from the glare. "Homat, you were near the boat. Did you hear something?"
"Yes, Etienne." He sounded odd, Etienne thought, though he couldn't define the difference. "I heard. It was your lightning thrower dealing spirits."
Lyre heard that, slowly rose from where she'd been silting.
Etienne spoke precisely. "The lightning thrower? You mean it went off? How did that happen?'°
"The way it always happens." The Mai was careful to keep his distance from Etienne, despite the severity of the man's injury. He removed the pistol from the pocket of his thermal suit. Etienne stiffened and Lyra backed toward the metal wall behind her.
"it happened," Homat continued, his confidence starting to build, "when I touched this place you call the trigger. I touched it and called upon the lightning spirits. I, Homat, did this."
Etienne struggled to choose the right words. "That's a very dangerous thing to do, Homat. You don't know what you're doing. The lightning spirits can be very unpredictable. You could hurt yourself."
Homat laughed softly. "You clever humans. You come here from another world, with your wonderful magical devices, and you try to make us think none but you can make them work." He shook the asynapt at them. "Well, I can make them work!”
"Where is Teacher Tyl?" Yulour asked uncertainly, looking past the Mai toward the hydrofoil.
"Be quiet, simpleton. The meditator is dead. I killed him, with this." He shook the pistol again.
"But why?" Lyra cried as she looked toward the boat.
Homat's voice was as icy as the air around them. "To make certain that I did know how to call upon the lightning spirits. Truly it is very easy. You just touch this trigger place here." Cane finger eased toward the firing button.
Etienne negotiated a couple of awkward steps backward, leaning on the crutch.
"Don't be frightened,„ Homat told him. "I don't think I have to kill you. Besides, I need your arms and your backs."
"what for?"
Homat looked past him, his eyes afire. "To load the spirit boat with the gray metal, the sunit.”
"The iridium alloy? Your people value it too?"
"More than any other thing of this world. It will make me master over much of it."
"We don't care if you take some sunit back with you," Lyre said. "Enough to make you rich, if you wish. We promised you a reward for helping us."
"The meditator said much the same thing. I take my own reward, Lyra. I want to take back as much sunit as the spirit boat will hold. We will make room by throwing out the useless things you have gathered during this journey, bits of plants and rocks and clothing and cheap trinkets."
"Homat, you can't! We need to take samples of your world back for study."
"You don't listen, Lyra. What is important to you does not matter now. It doesn't matter that your civilization is smarter than that of the Mai. It doesn't matter that you are smarter than me, though i am not so sure of that anymore. It does not matter that you are larger and stronger. This is all that matters now." He gestured with the asynaptic pistol. "I have not touched it since we fought the Na. It slew the meditator. I am certain it can slay you. This is something even we simple Mai can understand."
"Irquit wasn't the Zanur's representative," Etienne said accusingly, "It was you all the time."
"Oh, no, Etienne, she was a representative of the Zanur. We both were. But she was in charge over me, and I couldn't have that. I did not need her around, watching as I made careful study of your magic. I knew we would fail at Changrit."
"So you're a traitor then. To your city‑state of Po Rabi, to your Zanur, to your Najoke de‑me‑Halmur."
Homat dug his toes into the ground, a sign of disrespectful disgust. "From this moment on Najoke de‑me‑Halmur is nothing. He is become less than the grains of grave! that roll from the mouth of this cave, less than the droppings of the prewq upon the fields. The Zanur is become nothing. Po Rabi itself is as nothing beside the wealth that lies here. If I choose I will buy Po Rabi for a winter home. I will be Moyt over all."
Lyra fought to restrain her temper. "Now listen, Homat. Maybe you can operate that pistol without burning your foot off, but running the spirit boat is another matter entirely."
"Is it so? I have watched for a long time now while you thought me shivering and cowering behind you for protection. Already I have steered the spirit boat once. I think truly it is not so complicated to use. A very few controls run it mostly, and one allows the spirits within to run by themselves."
"Even an autopilot needs occasional instructions."
"Does it? I think you try to deceive me. We will see."
"And what happens," Etienne pressed him, "if we don't return and our friends come looking for us? They'll find the boat and they'll find you."
"Perhaps. If they do I will
shiver and cower some delighted more and explain that you were slain by the Na and that I, Homat, not knowing what else to do, was returning the spirit boat to its rightful owners. I think they will lei me keep the sunit and award me honors for my bravery and dedication."
"Even assuming you could run the boat," Lyra said, "how can you get it past the Topapasirut without the help of the Tsla of Jakaie?"
"I think they will believe my story also. If they are reluctant to believe, there are other ways." He gestured past them toward the mountain of metal. "The Tsla are also traders. They are not immune to the promise of great wealth. Not all the hairy ones sit and meditate their lives away. They work hard in their shops and fields and when they come down to the Skar, wealth changes hands. And there is another reason why I know this can be done."
"Another reason?„
"An elderly merchant of Po Rabi preceded us to this place. Without lightning throwers, without this wondrous delighted clothing you have given me, without a spirit boat, he came to this place, stood perhaps on this same spot, and returned to Po Rabi with proof that he had done so. With all your wonders at my command, I cannot fail to do as well.
"But why this talk of your spot returning? I bear you no malice, and I need your strength to load the sonic into the spirit boat. Then we will see. It would be easier if you agreed to help me return to the Skatandaho Perhaps I will even let you keep your boat. You will not have the useless rocks and weeds that you have gathered, but you will still have the magic images you make of them.
"One thing is certain: you have no other choice but to help me. If you do not, it will take longer to load the sonic with the help of only this simple one," he gestured toward Yulour, "but it will be done nonetheless. And I will surely kill you."
"Yulour and I will help load your precious sunit," Lyra said bitterly, "but Etienne cannot. If he does much lifting he stands a good chance of reopening the wound inside him."