"Henry," I said. "Should he?"
"Gotta take his word how he feels," said Lanning.
"Well," I said, "then take it easy. I'll be gone when you get here. I'm going a little way down the western side. Something I want to see."
"What?"
"I dunno. That's why I want to see."
"Take care."
"Check."
The western slope was an easy descent. As I went down it, I realized that the light was coming from an opening in the side of the mountain.
Half an hour later, I stood before it.
I stepped within and was dazzled.
I walked toward it and stopped. It pulsed and quivered and sang.
A vibrating wall of flame leapt from the floor of the cave, towered to the roof of the cave.
It blocked my way, when I wanted to go beyond it.
She was there, and I wanted to reach her.
I took a step forward, so that I was only inches away from it. My communicator was full of static and my arms of cold needles.
It did not bend toward me, as to attack. It cast no heat.
I stared through the veil of fires to where she reclined, her eyes closed, her breast unmoving.
I stared at the bank of machinery beside the far wall.
"I'm here," I said, and I raised my pick.
When its point touched the wall of flame someone took the lid off hell, and I staggered back, blinded. When my vision cleared, the angel stood before me.
"_You may not pass here_," he said.
"She is the reason you want me to go back?" I asked.
"_Yes. Go back._"
"Has she no say in the matter?"
"_She sleeps. Go back._"
"So I notice. Why?"
"_She must. Go back._"
"Why did she herself appear to me and lead me strangely?"
"_I used up the fear-forms I knew. They did not work. I led you strangely because her sleeping mind touches upon my own workings. It did so especially when I borrowed her form, so that it interfered with the directive. Go back._"
"What is the directive?"
"_She is to be guarded against all things coming up the mountain. Go back._"
"Why? Why is she guarded?"
"_She sleeps. Go back._"
The conversation having become somewhat circular at that point, I reached into my pack and drew out the projector. I swung it forward and the angel melted. The flames bent away from my outstretched hand. I sought to open a doorway in the circle of fire.
It worked, sort of.
I pushed the projector forward, and the flames bent and bent and bent and finally broke. When they broke, I leaped forward. I made it through, but my protective suit was as scorched as Mallardi's.
I moved to the coffinlike locker within which she slept.
I rested my hands on its edge and looked down.
She was as fragile as ice.
In fact, she was ice....
The machine came alive with lights then, and I felt her somber bedstead vibrate.
Then I saw the man.
He was half sprawled across a metal chair beside the machine.
He, too, was ice. Only his features were gray, were twisted. He wore black and he was dead and a statue, while she was sleeping and a statue.
She wore blue, and white....
There was an empty casket in the far corner....
But something was happening around me. There came a brightening of the air. Yes, it was air. It hissed upward from frosty juts in the floor, formed into great clouds. Then a feeling of heat occurred and the clouds began to fade and the brightening continued.
I returned to the casket and studied her features.
I wondered what her voice would sound like when/if she spoke. I wondered what lay within her mind. I wondered how her thinking worked, and what she liked and didn't like. I wondered what her eyes had looked upon, and when.
I wondered all these things, because I could see that whatever forces I had set into operation when I entered the circle of fire were causing her, slowly, to cease being a statue.
She was being awakened.
I waited. Over an hour went by, and still I waited, watching her. She began to breath. Her eyes opened at last, and for a long time she did not see.
Then her bluefire fell on me.
"Whitey," she said.
"Yes."
"Where am I...?"
"In the damnedest place I could possibly have found anyone."
She frowned. "I remember," she said and tried to sit up.
It didn't work. She fell back.
"What is your name?"
"Linda," she said. Then, "I dreamed of you, Whitey. Strange dreams....How could that be?"
"It's tricky," I said.
"I knew you were coming," she said. "I saw you fighting monsters on a mountain as high as the sky."
"Yes, we're there now."
"H-have you the cure?"
"Cure? What cure?"
"Dawson's Plague," she said.
I felt sick. I felt sick because I realized that she did not sleep as a prisoner, but to postpone her death. She was sick.
"Did you come to live on this world in a ship that moved faster than light?" I asked.
"No," she said. "It took centuries to get here. We slept the cold sleep during the journey. This is one of the bunkers." She gestured toward the casket with her eyes. I noticed her cheeks had become bright red.
"They all began dying--of the plague," she said. "There was no cure. My husband--Carl--is a doctor. When he saw that I had it, he said he would keep me in extreme hypothermia until a cure was found. Otherwise, you only live for two days, you know."
Then she stared up at me, and I realized that her last two words had been a question.
I moved into a position to block her view of the dead man, who I feared must be her Carl. I tried to follow her husband's thinking. He'd had to hurry, as he was obviously further along than she had been. He knew the colony would be wiped out. He must have loved her and been awfully clever, both--awfully resourceful. Mostly, though, he must have loved her. Knowing that the colony would die, he knew it would be centuries before another ship arrived. He had nothing that could power a cold bunker for that long. But up here, on the top of this mountain, almost as cold as outer space itself, power wouldn't be necessary. Somehow, he had got Linda and the stuff up here. His machine cast a force field around the cave. Working in heat and atmosphere, he had sent her deep into the cold sleep and then prepared his own bunker. When he dropped the wall of forces, no power would be necessary to guarantee the long, icy wait. They could sleep for centuries within the bosom of the Gray Sister, protected by a colony of defense-computer. This last had apparently been programmed quickly, for he was dying. He saw that it was too late to join her. He hurried to set the thing for basic defense, killed the force field, and then went his way into that Dark and Secret Place. Thus it hurled its birds and its angels and its snakes, it raised its walls of fire against me. He died, and it guarded her in near-death--against everything, including those who would help. My coming to the mountain had activated it. My passing of the defenses had caused her to be summoned back to life.
"_Go back!_" I heard the machine say through its projected angel, for Henry had entered the cave.
"My God!" I heard him say. "Who's that?"
"Get Doc!" I said. "Hurry! I'll explain later. It's a matter of life! Climb back to where your communicator will work, and tell him it's Dawson's Plague--a bad local bug! Hurry!"
"I'm on my way," he said and was.
"There _is_ a doctor?" she asked.
"Yes. Only about two hours away. Don't worry....I still don't see how anyone could have gotten you up here to the top of this mountain, let alone a load of machines."
"We're on the big mountain--the forty-miler?"
"Yes."
"How did _you_ get up?" she asked.
"I climbed it."
"You really climbed Purgatorio? On the outside?"
"Purgatorio? That's what you call it? Yes, I climbed it, that way."
"We didn't think it could be done."
"How else might one arrive at its top?"