Jaksan was as good as his word. The next morning Dalgre, Snyn and the arms officer dismantled the largest of the disruptors and gingerly worked loose its power unit. Because they were handling sudden and violent death they worked slowly, testing each relay and installation over and over again. It took a full day of painful work on the sled before they were through, and even then they could not be sure it would really rise.
Just before sunset Fylh took the pilot's seat, getting in as if he didn't altogether care for his place just over those tinkered-with power units. But he had insisted upon playing test pilot.
The sled went up with a lurch, too strong a surge. Then it straightened out neatly, as Fylh learned how to make adjustments, and sped across the river, to circle and return, alighting with unusual care considering who had the controls. Fylh spoke to Jaksan before he was off his seat.
"She has a lot more power than she had before. How long is it going to last?"
Jaksan rubbed a grimy hand across his forehead. "We have no way of telling. What did that report say, Dalgre?"
"That kind of hook-up brought a cruiser in three light years to base. Then they dug it out. They never learned how long it might have lasted."
Fylh nodded and turned to Kartr.
"Well, she's ready and waiting. When do we take off, sergeant?"
5 — THE CITY
In the end the rangers drew lots for the pilot's place and the choice fell, not to Fylh, but to Rolth. Secretly Kartr was pleased. To fly with Rolth at the controls would mean going by night—but that would be the wiser thing to do when covering a strange city. And, after all, Rolth had been the one to discover the beacon.
They set off at dusk, rations and bedrolls strapped under the single seat remaining in the stripped-down sled. And with the bedrolls was the single disruptor they had left. Jaksan had insisted upon their taking that.
Rolth sang softly as they sped through the chill of the dusk—one of the minor wailing airs of his own twilight world. Without his protective goggles his dark eyes were alive in his pallid face.
Kartr leaned back against the seat pad and watched the ground darken from green to dusky blue. Just on chance he triggered the tailer. Now if they did pass above any large man-made object they would be warned.
There was life abroad in the hills below—animal hunters on the prowl. And once a wild screech reached them. Kartr read in that sound the rage and the disgust of a hunter that had missed its spring and must stalk again. But no man walked below them—nothing even close to human.
The tailer clicked. Kartr leaned forward and consulted the dial. One point only. And a small one. But—man-made. A single building perhaps—maybe long buried. Not the site of the beacon.
Even as he thought of it the beam swept across the dusk-darkened sky. No, whatever lay below had no connection with that.
There were hills and more hills. Rolth applied power which raised them over, sometimes hardly skimming above rocks which crowned the peaks. Then they began to drop away again, making steps for a giant down into another low land.
And now they could see what lay in the heart of that. A blaze of light, not all yellow-white, but emerald, ruby, sapphire too! A handful of gigantic gems spilled out to pulse and glow in the night.
Kartr had visited the elfin ruins of lost Calinn—needle towers and iridescent domes—a city no man living in the days of human civilization could duplicate. He had seen sealed Tantor, and the famous City of the Sea, built of stone-encased living organisms beneath the waters of Parth. But this—it was strangely familiar as well as alien. He was drawn and repelled by it at the same time.
He put a hand to the controls to give Rolth a chance to resume his goggles. What was bright light for the sergeant was blinding to the Faltharian.
"Do we just fly in—or scout first?" asked Rolth.
Kartr frowned, sending his perceptive sense ahead—a surgeon's delicate probe, prying into the source of the lights.
He touched what he sought, touched and recoiled in the same instant, fleeing the awareness of the mind he had contacted. But what he had found was so astounding that he was too startled to answer that question at once. When he did it was decisively.
"We scout—!"
Rolth cut down the speed of the sled. He swung it out in an arc to encircle the splotch of light.
"I wouldn't have believed it!" Kartr gave voice at last to his bewilderment.
"There are inhabitants?"
"One at least—I contacted an Ageratan mind!"
"Pirates?" suggested Rolth.
"In an open city—with all that light to betray them? Though, you may be right at that, that is just where they might feel safe. But be careful, we don't want to walk straight into a blast beam. And that kind fire before they ask your name and planet—especially if they see our Comets!"
"Did he catch your mind touch?"
"Who knows what an Ageratan gets or doesn't get? No one has been able to examine them unless they are either completely unaware or deliberately open. He could have been either then."
"More than one?"
"I got out—fast—when I tapped him. Didn't stay to see."
The tailer was clicking madly. Kartr should have switched on the recorder, too. But without a machine to read the wire that was useless. From now on scouting reports would be oral. The sled glided slowly over a section where the buildings stood some distance apart, vegetation thick between them.
"Look—" Rolth pointed to the left. "That's a landing stage there—if I ever saw one. How about setting down on the next one and going ahead on foot—"
"Get in closer to the main part of the city first. No use in walking several miles after we go down."
They found what they wanted, a small landing stage on the top of a tower, a tower which seemed short when compared to the buildings around it, though they must have landed forty floors above street level. But it was a good place from which to spy out the land.
They dropped on it. Then Kartr whirled, his blaster out—aimed for the middle of the black thing scuttling toward him from the roof shadows. He tried in the same instant for mind contact—to recoil with an instant of real panic. And Rolth put his discovery into words.
"Robot—guard—maybe—"
Kartr was back in the sled as Rolth brought it up above the head of the figure.
Robot, guard or attendant, the thing stopped short when the sled left the stage surface. As they went on up it turned squarely and trundled away into the dark. Kartr relaxed. The metal guardian could have beamed them both before they had even had a chance to sight it. Of course, it might only have been an attendant—but there was no sense in taking the risk.
"No more landing stages," he said and Rolth agreed with him fervently.
"Those creatures might be conditioned to a voice or a key word—give them the wrong answer and they take you apart quick—"
"Wait a minute." Kartr put his blaster back in its holster. "We're judging this city by what we know of our own civilization." He squinted against the brilliance of a wave of green light and recited the instructions of their manual, "There is always something new for the finder, go out with an open mind—"
"And," Rolth added, "a ready blaster! Yes, I know all that. But human nature remains the same and I'd rather be wary than dead. Look down there—see those squares of pavement between the buildings? How about setting down on one of those? No landing stage alarms or controls we could trigger—"
"Promising. Can you get in behind that big block? Its shadow should hide us well—"
Rolth might not get as much speed out of the sled as Fylh did, but his caution on such a mission as this was more to be desired than the Trystian's reckless disregard for the laws of gravity. Earthing required of him a good five minutes of painful maneuvering, but he brought them down in the middle of the pool of shadow Kartr had indicated.
They did not stir from their seats at once, but sat watching for robots, for any moving thing which might promise menace.
&n
bsp; "A city"—Rolth stated the obvious—"is not the place to play hide and seek in. I'm sure that I'm being watched—maybe from up there—" He jerked a thumb at the lines of blank windows overlooking the court in which they had landed.
That eerie sensation—that myriad eyes were peering hostilely from the blank expanses—Kartr knew it too. But his sense told him it was a lie.
"Nothing lives here," he assured the Faltharian. "Not even a robot."
They moved away from the sled, skirting the side of the nearest building, staying in the shadows, racing across lighted open spaces. Rolth ran his fingers along the wall at his shoulder. "Old, very old. I can feel the scars of erosion."
"But the lights? How long could those keep running?" wondered Kartr.
"Ask your friend from Agerat. Maybe he put them in working order when he arrived. Who knows?"
There was little ornamentation on the buildings they passed, the walls were smoothly functional, yet the very way the towers and blocks were fitted into a harmonious whole argued that they were the product of a civilization so advanced in architecture as to present a city as a unit, instead of a collection of buildings and dwellings of individual tastes and periods. So far Kartr had seen no inscriptions on any of the structures.
Rolth's blue torch flashed on and off regularly as they went, pin-dotting their trail through this new kind of wilderness. When they wanted to retrace their way he need only touch his light again on these walls and the tiny blue circles would glow in return for a second.
The rangers made a half circle around one of the three buildings hedging in the court and crept along a street into the surface of which their feet sank almost ankle deep. The old pavement was covered with a thick growth of short tough grass. Half a block ahead, from a recess between two buildings, a rainbow of light played. They approached it cautiously—to come upon a fountain, a fountain of plumed light as well as tinkling water. The flood it raised sank back into a round basin, the rim of which was broken on the side near them so that a small stream was free to cut a channel through the sod until it reached a hole in the ancient pavement.
"No one around," Kartr whispered. Why he whispered he could not have explained. But the feeling of being watched, of being followed, persisted. Beneath the shadow of these dead towers he felt it necessary to creep and crawl silently—unless he awaken—what?
They dared to leave the protection of the dark and come out to the edge of the fountain. Now, through the spray of water and light, they could see its center column. There was a statue on it—more than life size, unless the builders of the city had been giants. It was not of any stone they could recognize but some white, gleaming stuff upon which time had left no marks. And, at the full sight of it, both Kartr and Rolth stopped almost in midstride.
The figure was a girl, her arms above her head, with a mane of unbound hair flowing free below her slender waist. In her upheld hands she grasped a symbol they both knew—a star of five points. And it was from the tips of those points that the water gushed. But the girl—she was no Bemmy—she was as human as they.
"It's Ionate—the Spirit of the Spring Rain—" Kartr reached far into his mind and drew forth a legend of his blasted home.
"No—it's Xyti of the Frosts!" Rolth had memories, too, stemming from his own dusky world of cold and shadow.
For a second they stared at each other almost angrily and then both smiled.
"She is both—and neither—" Rolth suggested. "These men had their spirits of beauty, too. But it is plain by her eyes and hair she is not of Falthar. And by her ears—she is no kin of yours—"
"But why—" Kartr stared at the fountain in puzzlement. "Why does she seem as if I have known her always? And that star—"
"A common symbol—you have seen it a hundred times on a hundred different worlds. No, it is as I have said. She is the ideal of beauty and so we see her, even as he who fashioned her dreamed her into being."
They left the court of the fountain reluctantly and came into a wide avenue which stretched its green length straight toward the center of the city. Now and again colored lights formed untranslatable signs in the air or across the fronts of the buildings. They passed by what must have been shops and saw the cobwebs of ancient wares spread inside the windows. Then Kartr caught Rolth's arm and pulled him quickly into the shelter of a doorway.
"Robot!" The sergeant's lips were close to his companion's ear. "I think it is patrolling!"
"Can we circuit it?"
"Depends upon its type."
They had only their past experience to guide them. Robot patrols, they knew, were deadly danger. Those they had seen elsewhere could not be turned from duty except by the delicate and dangerous act of short-circuiting their controls. Otherwise the robot would either blast without question anything or anyone not natural to that place—or who could not answer it with the prescribed code. It was what the rangers had feared on the landing stage, and it would be even worse to face it now when they had no sled for a quick getaway.
"It will depend upon whether this is a native or—"
"Or introduced by the Ageratan?" Rolth interrupted. "Yes, if he brought it, we know how to handle it. A native—"
He stopped whispering at the faint sound of metal clinking against stone. Kartr straightened and flashed his torch above their heads. The doorway in which they crouched was not too high and a small projection overhung it. Just over that was the dark break of a window. Seeing that he began to plan.
"Inside—" he said to Rolth. "Try to reach the second floor and get out of that window upon the ledge. Then I'll attract the robot's attention and you can burn its brain case from above—"
Rolth was gone, slipping into the darkness which was no barrier to him. Kartr leaned against the side of the doorway. It would be a race, he thought, with a little sick twinge in the pit of his stomach. If the robot got here before Rolth reached that ledge—! If he, Kartr, couldn't manage to avoid the first attack of the patroller—! Luckily he didn't have too long to wait and catalogue all those dismal possibilities.
He could see the patroller now. It was at the far end of the block. The flashing lights on the buildings played across its metal body. But the sergeant was almost sure that it was unlike the ones known to galactic cities. The rounded dome of the head casing, the spider-like slenderness of the limbs, the almost graceful smoothness of its progress, were akin more to the architecture of this place.
Its pace was steady and unhurried. It paused before each doorway and shot a spy beam from its head into the entrance. Manifestly it was going about its appointed task of checking the security of each portal.
Then the sergeant sighed with relief. Rolth had crawled into place and crouched now well above the line of the robot's vision. If only this patroller was constructed on the same general pattern they knew and could be short-circuited through the head!
But when it reached the next doorway it hesitated. Kartr tensed. This might be worse than he had thought. The thing had some sense perception. He was sure that it suspected his presence. No spy beam flashed. Instead it stood there unmoving—as if it were puzzled, making up its mind.
Was it relaying back to some dust-covered headquarters an alarm?
But its arms were moving—
"Kartr!"
Night sight or no night sight, Kartr had not needed that shout from Rolth to warn him. He had already seen what the patroller held ready. He hurled himself backward, falling flat on the floor of the hall, letting momentum carry him in a slide some distance along it. Behind him was a burst of eye-searing flame, filling the whole entrance with an inferno. Only his trained muscles and sixth sense of preservation had saved him from cooking in the midst of that!
Shakily he crawled on his belly away from the fury. Was the robot going to follow him in and complete its mission?
Hollow sounds of feet pounding—
"Kartr! Kartr!"
He had levered himself to a sitting position when Rolth plunged around an angle in the hallway and a
lmost fell over him.
"Are you hurt? Did he get you?"
Kartr grinned lopsidedly. To just be alive—he winced as Rolth's examining hands touched skin scraped raw.
"What about—?"
"The bag of bolts? I scragged him all right—a blast hole right through his head casing and he went down. He didn't reach you?"
"No. And at least he's told us something about the civilization they had here." The sergeant surveyed the blaze behind him with critical distaste. "Blow a hole in a city block to get someone. Wonder what they would have thought of a stun gun." With Rolth's hand under his arm Kartr got to his feet. He hoped that he had not rebroken his wrist and that the red agony in it was only from the jar of his fall.
"I have a feeling," he began and then was glad that Rolth had retained a grip on him because the hallway appeared to sway under his feet, "that we'd better get away from here—fast—"
The thought which plagued him was the memory of that momentary pause before the robot had attacked. Kartr was sure that then a message had been flashed from the patroller—where? If the timeless machine had only been performing rounds set him generations before the city had been deserted by its builder—then such a report would be no menace—unless it activated other machines in turn. On the other hand, if the mysterious Ageratan controlled the robots, then the rangers might have successfully met a first attack, only to face other and perhaps worse ones.
Rolth agreed with this when he suggested it aloud.
"We can't go back that way anyhow." The Faltharian pointed to the blazing pit of radiation which had once been the door. "And they may just be combing the streets for us, too. Listen, this city reminds me in some ways of Stiltu—"
Kartr shook his head. "Heard of it, but have never been there."
"Capital of Lydias." Rolth identified it impatiently. "They're old-fashioned there—still live in big cities. Well, they have an underground system of links—ways of traveling under the surface—"
"Hm." Kartr's mind jumped to the next point easily. "Then we might try going down and see what we can find? All right. And if that patroller did rouse out the guard before you burned him, it will be some time before they can even get in here to see if their tame hunter bagged us. Let's look for a way down."