Alice was the only modest one. She required that the others look away while she was relieving herself. Even then, their near presence made her inhibited. Sometimes, though, the mists thickened enough to give her privacy.
They were a gloomy party, still numbed by Joe Miller's death. Also, they could not help dwelling on the strong possibility that the Ethicals had found the cave and sealed it.
The sound of waves crashing against the base became louder. They descended into the thick clouds; the cliff face and the ledge became even wetter. Finally, Burton, in the lead, was wet by spray and the sea boomed around him.
He halted and sent his lantern beam ahead of him. The edge ran into the black waters. Ahead was the outcropping, and, if what Paheri had said was true, the mouth of the cave would be on its other side.
He called back to those behind Alice, telling them what his light had revealed. He walked into the water, which was only knee deep. Apparently, the shallow ledge went a long way out since the waves were weak here, though powerful on both sides not far away. The water was very cold, seeming to turn his legs into icy clumps.
He came back to the black projection and worked his way around it. Alice came closely behind him. "Is there a cave?" Her voice trembled. He shot the beam ahead to his right. His heart was hammering and not just from the shock of the cold water. He breathed out, "Ah!"
There it was, the long-imagined hole at the base of the mountain. It was arched and low and would require that even Nur stoop to get through it. But it was wide enough for the boats which Paheri had described to pass through it.
Burton shouted back the good news. Croomes, fifth in line, screamed, "Hallelujah!"
However, Burton was not as exultant as he sounded. The cave could still be here, but the boats might not be.
He led Alice along the rope still connected to her belt and bent down to enter the mouth. A few feet inside, a smooth stone floor sloped upward at a 30-degree angle, the hollow broadened, and the ceiling rose to twenty feet. When they were all gathered inside, he ordered that they disconnect the rope. They shouldn't need it now.
He shone his light on their faces, pale and tired-looking but eager. Gilgamesh was on his far right, and Ah Qaaq stood on the left behind the rest. If Burton had not abandoned his plan to seize the two, the time to do so would be near. But he had decided to improvise when he had to.
He turned and led them up the floor to a tunnel. It curved gently to the right for over three hundred feet, and the air became warmer as they advanced. Before they got to its end, they saw light.
Burton could not resist running toward the illumination. He burst into a very large dome-shaped chamber and almost stepped on a human skeleton. It lay face down, its right arm-bones stretched out as if reaching for something. He picked up the skull and looked within it and at the floor beneath it. There was no tiny black ball.
The light came from huge metal balls, each on one of nine black metal tripods about twelve feet high. The light looked cold.
There were ten black metal boats on V-shaped supports and one empty support. It had held the vessel that the Egyptians had used to get to the tower.
The boats were of various sizes, the largest able to hold thirty people.
At the left side were metal shelves holding gray tins—the Americans would call them cans—each about ten inches high and six inches wide.
It was as Paheri had said it was.
Except that three human skeletons clad in blue clothes lay by one of the large boats.
The others moved in, talking in low tones. The place was certainly awing, but Burton ignored its effect to examine the unexpected remains.
The clothes seemed to be one-piece suits, pocketless, seamless, and buttonless and with pants legs. The material felt glossy and filled out where his fingers had depressed it. He rolled the skulls to one side and shook the bones from the garments. One individual was tall and had heavy bones and a thick supraorbital ridge and heavy jaws. He had probably been an early paleolithic. The bones of the other two were of the modern type, and the pelvis of one was a woman's.
Inside each skull was a very tiny black sphere. If he hadn't been looking for them, he wouldn't have noticed them.
There was no evidence of violence. What had struck these agents down?
And what vehicle had brought them here?
He would have expected one of the flying vessels he'd glimpsed many years ago. But there had been none outside the cave mouth. Could it have floated away?
What or who had interrupted the three? Why hadn't the people in the tower come after them after a certain amount of time?
They hadn't because they were having troubles of their own.
Or they were dead, slain by the same thing that had felled these three.
X had to be responsible for this.
Burton reasoned that the same event that had downed these three had also resulted in stranding X and all the other Ethicals and agents in The Valley.
That meant that no craft could fly out from the tower to pick them up. Nor could the renegade fly one of his hidden vessels to the tower. He'd been forced, as Barry Thorn, to go on the airship built by Firebrass. And he'd failed to get in the tower.
From Burton's viewpoint, the event had made certain advantages for him and for X. The agents had obviously discovered the cloth-ropes hanging down from the cliffside and the tunnels, and they'd found out that the very narrow ledge had been used by people from The Valley. They had probably found the cave last, after trying to make sure that passage would be impossible for any more of the unauthorized.
If the three hadn't been killed, the cave entrance would be plugged up.
He strode to the shelves filled with tins. At the corner of each shelf was a plastic sheet about twelve inches by twelve inches. On it were figures of a man demonstrating how to open the tins. Burton didn't need the pictures since he knew from Paheri's story what to do. He passed a fingertip completely around the upper rim and waited for a few seconds. The top, seemingly of hard metal, quivered, shimmered, and turned into a gelatinous film. His finger penetrated it easily.
Burton said, loudly, "X forgot all about eating utensils and plates! But that's all right! We can use our fingers!"
Famished, the others quit looking at the objects in the cave and followed his example. They scooped out the beef stew— warm—with their fingers and, from the tins marked by a bas-relief of bread, brought out loaves. They ate voraciously until their bellies were stuffed. There seemed no reason to ration themselves. The supply was more than plentiful.
Burton, sitting on the floor, lis back against a wall, watched the others.
If one was X, why didn't he reveal his identity? Was it because he had only recruited The Valley people to have a backup team? People who might pull his chestnuts out of the fire for him if he was in a situation where he was helpless without them?
If so, why hadn't he told them more of what he expected from them?
Or had he meant to do that but events had happened unexpectedly and too swiftly? And now he was in a position where he didn't need their help? Might, in fact, believe them to be a hindrance?