As yet they had nothing to share, but the boy had guessed the answer.
Dumarest said, "Look at that point of rock. Keep looking at it and raise the gun. Think of it as a finger which you are pointing to the spot your eyes are fixed on. Concentrate. Don't squeeze the butt too hard. Just close your finger, gently, and don't do it until you feel that you, the gun, is pointing at the target." He grunted as stone chipped a few inches from the point. "Better. Try again."
Fire and keep firing until the sky was clear. In clear air sound traveled a long distance and the woman's ears were sharp. A woman who was determined to get her own way and would do anything to bend him to her will. One who would destroy any clue leading to Earth if she thought it would take him from her side.
As the tiny mote of the raft finally vanished Navalok said, "Enough, Earl?"
"Enough. Now let's go and see what we've found."
The scrub was sturdy, the roots deep, the plants yielding reluctantly as Dumarest tore them free. Loose stone followed, debris rolling down the slope as he cleared the mouth of the narrow vent. It was in the form of a rounded arch, the keystone bearing a worn symbol, a barely discernable disc surrounded with tapering rays. The lower part of the opening was blocked with a mass of gritty soil and shattered stone.
Dumarest tore at it with hands and knife, coughed in a cloud of rising dust, then squinted through the opening. A child could have passed through it with ease. An adult, years ago, with a little wriggling. Fresh falls had piled on old, the roots of the scrub splitting stone to add to the detritus.
"I could get inside, Earl." Navalok thrust himself forward.
"No." Who could tell what might be lurking within. "Help me clear this opening."
Thirty minutes later a path had been cleared for the two of them.
"This is it, Earl," said Navalok as he stared into the thick gloom. "The sun must have been just right when I entered it last. It caught something which gleamed. It was that which attracted me, I remember it now."
"You said the light was bad."
"It was, aside from that one bright place. But I could see what was inside. My father too, Earl, he had no doubt as to the importance of what we'd found. If we wait perhaps the sun will shine inside."
"There's no need to wait," said Dumarest. "I've brought lights."
They were powerful flashlights which threw cones of brilliance into the opening to be reflected back in a dazzling brilliance. Moving the beam Dumarest saw a rounded roof carved with vine-like decorations and set with scraps of crystal in various shapes. The walls too, what he could see of them, were also carved and decorated with strips of red and yellow, amber and green, orange and umber material which held and diffused the light to cast a roseate glow.
Holding back his hand Dumarest said, "Give me the gun."
Reluctantly Navalok parted with it. The weapon at his waist had given him the assurance of a man, without it he felt a child again. He watched as Dumarest checked the load.
"Earl?"
"Wait here. Follow when I call. Stay well back until then. If anything is living in there it may try to break out past me. If it does I don't want you to get hurt."
Navalok said, wonderingly, "Earl, you talk like, like father."
"Maybe I feel like him. Stand back now."
Dirt showered from beneath his knees as Dumarest edged himself up and into the opening. He thrust forward the light in his left hand, the gun ready to fire in his right. It swept up and level as something seemed to move and glare at him, his finger easing its pressure just in time. The light, not the thing had moved and the glare came from a mask not a living face.
Quickly Dumarest scanned the area, sending the beam back into the furthest corner of the cave before focusing it on the mask again. It was an idiot's face, the mouth down-turned, the empty eye-holes adding to the vacuity of the general expression. An object which radiated a sadness and an empty despair. Turning towards the opening he saw another, almost its twin aside from the fact that this was a depiction of humor, the mouth upturned, the eyes blank though they were, seeming to hold a secret merriment.
"Earl?" Navalok called from outside. His voice betrayed his anxiety. "Are you all right?"
"Yes. Come and join me:" Dumarest handed him the gun as he slid down the heap of debris to stand at his side. "Holster this, I want my hands free. Where is the bright thing you saw before?"
It was set high on the rear wall facing the opening; a large disc set with the familiar rays, the whole a dully gleaming golden color. If the opening were cleared the sun, at certain times, would shine on it and be reflected as if from a mirror.
"The Guardians of the Sun," whispered Navalok. "It's the same symbol they wore on their clothing, Earl. You saw it in the Hall of Dreams. But what does it mean?"
A church, a shrine, a place of worship. A cave in which people gathered to pay homage, to remember. Dumarest swept up his torch and saw the gleaming reflections from the crystal in the ceiling, down and saw the glow of warm and lambent colors from the material set all around. The stars? The dawn and sunset? A place in which to recapture the past, to be at one with something held sacred.
The sun.
Which sun?
He looked at the rayed disc its blank face telling him nothing. At the items set all around; the fragments of machinery, small objects which could have been the personal possessions of those now long dead, the scrolls and books and oddly shaped pieces of metal, plastic and crystal. Above the opening the empty, smiling mask told him nothing. A thing set to mock those who would know more than they should? Another symbol depicting-what? The torch flashed as he moved the beam to study the other mask, the one of inane idiocy, the downturned mouth, tragedy as distinct from comedy. The two faces of a universal coin, laughter backed by tears, happiness by misery, joy by sadness life by death.
"Earl!" whispered Navalok. "Earl, look at the ceiling!"
Dumarest shifted his eyes and froze, stunned by what he saw.
The winking points of brilliance shining by the reflected light of the torch, points which vanished even as he studied them. Impatiently he moved a little, the points shining clear again as the beam of the flashlight hit and was reflected from the rayed disc.
"Patterns," said Navalok wonderingly. "They make patterns. Earl. But of what?"
Of stars. Of the Zodiac. Of the constellations seen from Earth.
Here, in this place, could lie the clue which would guide him home!
Chapter Fourteen
From where he stood at the far end of the room Navalok said, "Nothing, Earl. I've checked every inch. The walls are solid."
"The floor?"
"The same." The boy sounded tired. "No trapdoors, no loose flags, nothing but solid stone as far as I can tell. There could be something under the debris, but I doubt it." He added, curiously, "What are we looking for, anyway?"
A secret vault or hiding place in which important and valuable data could have been stored. A chance and one Dumarest had to investigate; even a negative result held an answer. The clue, if it existed, must be in the chamber itself and not hidden secretly away.
But where?
He swept the light around the place again. Beyond the opening the sky was growing dark with the onset of dusk and soon it would be night. For hours he had checked each item of the store the place contained, finding nothing which told him more than he already knew. The scraps and pieces, each valuable as a relic or as a fragment of the past, were no more than they appeared.
Votive offerings, perhaps. Things placed in this shrine for safekeeping or as a donation to generations yet to come. Who could fathom the intent of those long dead? Yet some things were plain. The cave for one, a natural structure which had been enlarged and lined with blocks of stone each fused to the other by laser-heat. A place intended to resist the ravages of time. One set in a special fashion so as to catch the rays of the sun which, reflected from the rayed disc, illuminated the ceiling and revealed the pattern of stars.