"Not a damn thing, not even a mummy for your husband to gloat over."
Root could sense Barbara shuddering. "Let's go. It gives me the shivers. It's like a dungeon."
"Just a minute, we might as well make sure ... Hm." He was playing the light on the walls. "That's peculiar."
"What's peculiar?"
"It looks like the stone was sliced with a torch. Notice how it's fused here on the inside..."
Root squinted, trying to see. "Strange," he heard Land mutter. "Outside it's chipped, inside it's cut by a torch, doesn't look so very old here inside, either."
"The air would preserve it," suggested Barbara dubiously.
"I suppose so-still, old places look old. There's dust and a kind of dullness. This looks raw."
"I don't understand how that could be."
"I don't either. There's something funny somewhere."
Root stiffened. Sound from without? Shuffle of splay feet in the sand-he started to back out. Something pushed him, he sprawled forward, fell. The bright eye of Landry's torch stared in his direction. "What's that?" came a hard voice. "Who's there?"
Root looked over his shoulder. The light passed over him, struck a dozen gray bony forms. They stood quietly just inside the hole, their eyes like balls of black plush.
Root gained his feet "Hah" cried Landry. "So you're here too."
"Not because I want to be," returned Root grimly.
Landry edged slowly forward, keeping his light on the Dicantrops. He asked Root sharply, "Are these lads dangerous?"
Root appraised the natives. "I don't know."
"Stay still," said one of these in the front rank. "Stay still." His voice was a deep croak.
"Stay still, hell exclaimed Landry. "We're leaving. There's nothing here I want. Get out of the way." He stepped forward.
"Stay still... We kill..."
Landry paused.
"What's the trouble now?" interposed Root anxiously. "Surely there's no harm in looking. There's nothing here."
"That is why we kill. Nothing here, now you know. Now you look other place. When you think this place important, then you not look other place. We kill, new man come, he think this place important"
Landry muttered. "Do you get what he's driving at?"
Root said slowly, "I don't know for sure." He addressed the Dicantrop. "We don't care about your secrets. You've no reason to hide things from us."
The native jerked his head. "Then why do you come here? You look for secrets."
Barbara's voice came from behind. "What is your secret? Diamonds?"
The native jerked his head again. Amusement? Anger? His emotions, unearthly, could be matched by no earthly words. "Diamonds are nothing-rocks."
"I'd like a carload," Landry muttered under his breath.
"Now look here," said Root persuasively. "You let us out and we won't pry into any of your secrets. It was wrong of us to break in and I'm sorry it happened. We'll repair the damage-"
The Dicantrop made a faint sputtering sound. "You do not understand. You tell other men-pyramid is nothing. Then other men look all around for other thing. They bother, look, look, look. All this no good. You die, everything go like before."
"There's too much talk," said Landry viciously, "and I don't like the sound of it Let's get out of here." He pulled out Root's gun. "Come on," he snapped at Root, "let's move."
To the natives, "Get out of the way or I'll do some killing myself!"
A rustle of movement from the natives, a thin excited whimper.
"We've got to rush them," shouted Landry. "If they get outside they can knock us over as we leave. Let's go!"
He sprang forward and Root was close behind. Landry used the gun as a club and Root used his fists and the Dicantrops rattled like cornstalks against the walls. Landry erupted through the hole. Root pushed Barbara through and, kicking back at the natives behind him, struggled out into the air.
Landry's momentum had carried him away from the pyramid, out into a seething mob of Dicantrops. Root, following more slowly, pressed his back to the granite. He sensed the convulsive movement in the wide darkness. "The whole colony must be down here," he shouted into Barbara's ear. For a minute he was occupied with the swarming natives, keeping Barbara behind him as much as possible. The first ledge of granite was about shoulder height
"Step on my hands," he panted. "I'll shove you up."
"But-Landry!" came Barbara's choked wail.
"Look at that crowd!" bit Root furiously. "We can't do anything." A sudden rush of small bony forms almost overwhelmed him. "Hurry up!"
Whimpering she stepped into his clasped hands. He thrust her up on the first ledge. Shaking off the clawing natives who had leapt on him, he jumped, scrambled up beside her. "Now run!" he shouted in her ear and she fled down the ledge.
From the darkness came a violent cry. "Root! Root! For God's sake-they've got me down-" Another hoarse yell, rising to a scream of agony. Then silence.
"Hurry!" said Root. They came to the far corner of the pyramid. "Jump down," panted Root. "Down to the ground."
"Landry!" moaned Barbara, teetering at the edge.
"Get down snarled Root. He thrust her down to the white sand and, seizing her hand, ran across the desert, back toward the station. A minute or so later, with pursuit left behind, he slowed to a trot.
"We should go back," cried Barbara. "Are you going to leave him to those devils?"
Root was silent a moment. Then, choosing his words, he said, "I told him to stay away from the place. Anything that happens to him is his own fault. And whatever it is, it's already happened. There's nothing we can do now."
A dark hulk shouldered against the sky-Landry's ship.
"Let's get in here," said Root. "We'll be safer than in the station."
He helped her into the ship, clamped tight the port "Phew, He shook his head. "Never thought it would come to this."
He climbed into the pilot's seat, looked out across the desert. Barbara huddled somewhere behind him, sobbing softly.
An hour passed, during which they said no word. Then, without warning, a fiery orange ball rose from the hill across the pond, drifted toward the station. Root blinked, jerked upright in his seat. He scrambled for the ship's machine-gun, yanked at the trigger-without result
When at last he found and threw off the safety the orange ball hung over the station and Root held his fire. The ball brushed against the antenna-a tremendous explosion spattered to every corner of vision. It seared Root's eyes, threw him to the deck, rocked the ship, left him dazed and half-conscious.
Barbara lay moaning. Root hauled himself to his feet. A seared pit, a tangle of metal, showed where the station had stood. Root dazedly slumped into the seat, started the fuel pump, plunged home the catalyzers. The boat quivered, bumped a few feet along the ground. The tubes sputtered, wheezed.
Root looked at the fuel gauge, looked again. The needle pointed to zero, a fact which Root had known but forgotten. He cursed his own stupidity. Their presence in the ship might have gone ignored if he had not called attention to it
Up from the hill floated another orange ball. Root jumped for the machine gun, sent out a burst of explosive pellets. Again the roar and the blast and the whole top of the hill was blown off, revealing what appeared to be a smooth strata of black rock.
Root looked over his shoulder to Barbara. "This is it"