"A friend. An ear to listen and a mouth to talk. Each man needs a friend, Earl. Someone to understand."
A need supplied as soon as felt. Dumarest said, "This is Earth? There can be no mistake?"
"This is Earth, Earl. How can you doubt? Your home, the only world on which you can feel whole. Can you understand why? Every cell of your body was fashioned and shaped by this place. It is the only planet on which you can feel wholly in tune, to which you can ever really belong. Look around you. Everything you see is a part of you; the grass, the trees, the creatures which walk and swim and fly. The water, the sunlight, the glow of the Moon. Only here can you ever find true contentment, Earl. Only on Earth can you ever find happiness."
And he was happy with a pleasure he had never before known or had even dreamed could exist. An intoxication of supreme bliss which caused him to stoop, to fill his hands with dirt, to lift them and let it rain before his eyes.
Earth!
His home now and for always.
The days would shorten and winter come with snow and crisp winds. There would be growth and harvest and the regular pattern of life to which he would respond. And there would be others, of that he was certain. Men and women to offer him a welcome. A wife, children, sons to teach and daughters to cherish. An end to loneliness.
"Earl!"
He frowned at the sound of his name. Who could be calling him?
"Earl. I need you. Please help me. Earl!" A woman's voice holding pain and terror, things which had no place in this ideal. It came again, louder, "For God's sake where are you? Answer me, Earl. I need you. Earl. Earl!"
A flash of movement. Derai? But the hair was gold, not silver, and the eyes were blind.
"Embira!"
She came to him from the mist, hands lifted, groping, her face dewed with sweat which carried the scent of her fear. A woman alone, blind, and afraid, walking into the unknown. The line firmly knotted around her waist trailed behind her. His own, Dumarest noticed, was gone. When had he freed himself from its restraint?
"Earl?" Her hands caught his own, the fingers closing with an iron grip. "Thank God I've found you! We waited so long and your line was cut and-Earl! Don't leave me!"
"I won't, Embira."
"It hurts," she said dully. "The pain, the hunger and fear. I'm so afraid. Take me back, Earl. Take me back."
Freeing his hands, he turned her, clamping his left arm around her shoulders, catching up the line with his right. He pulled, drawing in the slack and, when it was taut, jerked three times. An answering jerk and the line tightened, dragging at the girl's waist.
Marek was at the far end, Pacula and Sufan at his side. As Dumarest reached the edge of the colonnade and guided the girl into Pacula's waiting arms, Marek said, "So she found you. Thank God for that. I'd about given up hope. When we pulled in your line and found it cut-"
Sufan interrupted, his voice impatient. "What did you find, Earl? What is the treasure of Balhadorha?"
Dumarest answered in one word. "Death."
The food and water were getting low but Dumarest had no need of them and neither did the girl. The mist had taken care of them both, removing toxins, nourishing tissue, maintaining life in its own fashion. But while Dumarest had suffered no apparent ill effects the girl had collapsed. She lay on the floor of the far side of the chamber, her face drawn, stamped with signs of anguish despite the drugs which dulled her senses.
"She volunteered," said Marek quietly. "When you didn't return and we found your line cut she insisted on going after you. She said that she alone could find you."
"She was right."
"As events proved, Earl. Her talent, of course, it makes her something other than normal. But you were in the mist for a long time. Long enough for Sufan to make a circuit of the area."
"I found nothing." The man came forward, eyes darting. "And you, Earl?"
"I told you."
"Death-what answer is that? Did you find anything beneath the mist? Artifacts? Gems? Anything at all?"
"I found everything the legends promised. Wealth beyond imagination, pleasure unexpected, the answers to all questions, the solution to all problems. It's all there in the mist." Dumarest stared toward it, the swirling vapors edged by the openings set in the wall of the chamber. "The rumors didn't lie. Everything you could hope for is there, but at a price."
"Death," said Pacula, and shivered."Earl, what is it?"
"A symbiote."
"Alive?" Marek was incredulous. "After so long?"
"Time is different within the mist. An hour becomes a minute. Perhaps the colonnade has something to do with it, or the city. It isn't important. But that mist is alive. It takes something, a little blood, some bone marrow, the aura of emotion, perhaps, but feeding, it gives. Each thought and wish becomes real. The host is maintained in a world of illusion. One so apparently real that it is impossible to escape."
"But you escaped, Earl."
"With Embira's help, Pacula. If she hadn't come looking for me I would be there still."
"And you long to return." She looked at him with sudden understanding. "Earl-"
"I must try it," said Sufan. "I must experience it for myself. If I am tied to a line I should be safe."
"You would free yourself from the line," said Dumarest. "Nothing would stop you. If you were locked in steel it might be possible, but we have no metal straps and chain. If you go in you'll stay in."
"Maybe it's worth it." Marek looked at the mist, his eyes thoughtful. "What more can life offer than total satisfaction? If what you say is true, Earl, then here we have found happiness."
"And Embira?"
"What of her?"
"She can't share that happiness, Marek. Do you want to leave her here, alone, blind, terrified? She needs us. We must take her back to the ship. And we need you to help guide us through the Cloud."
"Need," said Marek bitterly. "What is another's need to me?" But he began collecting the packs, the weapons and supplies.
Pacula said, "Earl! What of Usan Labria?"
"We leave her."
"Usan? But-"
She was at the heart of the mist, lying on the softly firm ground, tended by the alien organism in return for what she could give. The very substance of her body, perhaps, disintegrating after death to culminate the bargain. But while alive, she was freed of pain and locked in a world of fantasy. Perhaps she ran light-footed over emerald sward or acted the queen in some luxurious palace. Around her would be attentive lovers and, in mirrors, she would relish the sight of her lovely young body. Happiness would be here-what more could life offer?
"We have no choice," said Dumarest. "We can't find her, and even if we could, to rescue her would be cruel. She'd be dead before we left the Cloud and without money what can she hope for? Now she is happy." He said again, harshly. "We leave her."
Leave! To turn his back on paradise!
He felt a touch on his arm and looked down to see Pacula's hand. Her eyes, inches below his own, were soft with concern.
"You don't want to go, do you, Earl? You're doing this for Embira. If you were alone would you stay? Would you go back into the mist?"
To Kalin and others he had known. To the planet of his birth and the incredible pleasure which had filled him, the content and utter satisfaction.
He said unsteadily, "If I went again into the mist I'd never return. Now, for God's sake, woman, let's be on our way!"
As she went to lift the girl to her feet Dumarest looked at the others. Both were ready. Sufan Noyoka stepped to the near edge of the colonnade, breathing deeply, taking a final look at the treasure he had spent his life to find.