"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 through 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."