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"Don't the other Kteremian languages offer you any clues to all this?"

"Not a bit. Znaci and its related dialects are as different from the Hrata group as Japanese, let us say, is from the English and the other Teutonic tongues."

"Then how about this thing in Gdoz?" I inquired.

"As I say, this Kamzhik asserts that he found a sheet of zahalov-parchment inscribed on one side with the Skhoji writing and having a lot of pictures on the other. He did not bring it with him, not realizing its value, nor did he look at it very intently since the Znaci were hunting him. Although the Kteremians are all strictly bark-eaters, the Znaci have the disagreeable habit of cutting visitors up and performing magical rituals with the parts to make their food-trees grow, and it was to this infamous use that they wished to put Kamzhik. But if that sheet is still there—and the stuff is practically indestructible—it may give us the key to all those inscriptions in the Hrata Pictographic."

We landed, as everyone does, at the spaceport city of Sveho on Kterem, where we saw at first-hand the effects of a large Terran colony upon the Kteremians. Though interesting to a student of cultural interpenetration, these effects were depressing to one who would regard Kteremian culture as an integral object of aesthetic contemplation. Even I found it difficult to retain an attitude of purely scientific detachment.

For it was obvious that the influence of the Terrans upon the Kteremians is much greater than the influence in the reverse direction, as is to be expected in view of the technical superiority of Terran culture. Also, of course, the culture-traits most readily transmitted are those which a subjective point of view would term the vices of earthly culture.

We saw Kteremians wearing jackets and trousers in imitation of Terrans. These garments are cut to fit their entirely inhuman forms but serve no useful purpose, since the Kteremians' feathery pelts provide them with adequate protection against variations in temperature. We saw them frequenting places of amusement patterned after those of Terra, gambling, becoming intoxicated, making grotesque attempts to imitate Earthly dances, and so on.

Dr. Klein did not pretend to view this evidence of the breakdown of the native culture with unemotional objectivity. Somewhat of a Rousseauan romantic primitivist, he remarked one day: "Once we get out of this stinking city, my dear Barney, things will be better. Finding old inscriptions is only half the reason I go on these expeditions. The other half is the joy of getting away from human so-called civilization and back to Mother Nature. Look at that! A magazine stand, with comic-books, even!" He pointed to a large slick-paper American magazine, reprinted locally from microfilm brought from Terra, whose policies he particularly deplored."Sentimental slush! And look at that garish advertising sign! If I dared I would chop it up and burn it myself, that one!"

At this point Dr. Klein launched into his usual tirade against advertisers, calling them professional liars and so forth. The sign in question adjured all who read it in several languages, both Terran and Kteremian, to be sure to smoke the Russian government's Astrakhan brand of cigarettes. I could see Klein's point of view, even while I privately deplored it as unscientific.

At length, after filling out the usual dekaliter of forms in octuplicate, we were allowed to fly to the outpost of Severak where we met Klein's Kteremian acquaintance Kamzhik and the helpers whom he had rounded up for us. Kamzhik was small for a Kteremian, hardly taller than Klein, and a garrulous fellow who talked continuously in a strong accent. Of the helpers, Slunko, Nyeya, and Tshaf, none spoke any Terran language, wherefore I had to communicate with them through Kamzhik. Klein spoke their dialect fairly well, though lacking their great incisor chisel-teeth he could only roughly imitate the whistling sounds that comprise an element of their phonology.

In Severak, Dr. Klein made arrangements to rent a small aircraft to fly to the neighborhood of Gdoz. It is a misapprehension to consider Gdoz a "lost" city. It has long been known from aerial observation, but had never, except for an abortive treasure-hunting party, been visited by Terrans because of the difficulties of reaching it on the ground. Its situation makes the alighting of aircraft in its immediate neighborhood hazardous or impossible. Gdoz stands in a narrow valley, the Valley of Plashce, amidst steeply irregular mountains, and the strong prevailing winds make the air so turbulent in the neighborhood of these jagged peaks that a landing there would be merely an unnecessarily costly form of suicide.

Dr. Klein, however, took Kamzhik and Tshaf and me in the aircraft to the vicinity of Gdoz. We could plainly see the city lying in its narrow valley, and after hours of hovering and circling we found a small plateau where the wind was steady enough to permit a landing, where the ground was bare enough to obviate the danger of the nyikh-vine's swarming over the machine in our absence and clogging the tubes and jamming the controls, and where the situation was high enough to prevent the wild Znaci from seeing us and smashing up our machine by way of paying their respects.

Dr. Klein then returned to Severak and ferried the remaining helpers and supplies in two more trips. From this plateau to Gdoz was a good three days' hike, for though the distance was less than twenty-five kilometers in a straight line, the extreme ruggedness of the terrain necessitated a circuitous approach. This distance, however, was short enough so that the Kteremians could carry all our food for the round trip, and therefore it was not necessary to resort to the more complicated measures with which expeditions meet logistical difficulties: the staging of supplies, the peeling off of fractions of the party who have been carrying food for the rest, and the planting of caches for the return trip. Food for the Kteremians presented no problem, as they could always live on the bark of the ambient trees. They have however acquired such a taste for Earthly coffee that no explorer can induce them to accompany him unless he will share his supply of this beverage with them.

I will not detail our experiences on this three-day scramble, for though interesting to one with a taste for narratives of outdoor adventure they have little bearing on the final outcome of our journey.

I shall merely mention that we were nearly drowned in a bottomless swamp, and were chased by an uyedna, twice the size of a Terran elephant. We heard the war-drums of the Znaci and were stalked by them, receiving a shower of poisoned cross-bolts without ever seeing the arbalestiers. One missile struck Tshaf, who died in great pain from the poison.

We fired a few shots at random into the bush and pressed on to more open country at the outlet of the Valley of Plashce. The drums died out behind us. We could not be sure whether the Znaci gave up the pursuit because the thinning of the vegetation would have made it necessary for them to expose themselves to our fire to get within crossbow-range, or whether, as Kamzhik averred "Znaci no go near Gdoz; afraid of evil spirit of Hrata king."

Despite his years, Dr. Klein proved himself a woodsman of uncommon resource, adroitness, and endurance. At the end of a long day, when I was reeling with fatigue, he would be slouching along without visible sign of abatement of his powers.

Towards the end of the third day we reached the ruin. I must testify that for somber magnificence it puts such Terran cognates as Ankgor Wat and Petra and Copán to shame. Moreover I became aware of a growing feeling of uneasiness within me, as if Kamzhik's primitive gossip about the evil ghost of King Zahal the Fiendish were to be taken seriously. Of course I immediately dismissed all such unscientific feelings as mere subjective illusions begotten by fatigue and childhood complexes. With an effort I managed to retain my unemotional objectivity.

The city of Gdoz has of course suffered greatly with time and delapidation, especially from the sack of the city by the Kalcimvi army 846 Kteremian years ago, when the Hrata dynasty was extinguished, and again from the depredations of that band of Terran treasure-hunters forty-odd years ago. We learned from Kamzhik that these adventurers found no treasure and were captured by the Znaci, who employed them in their immemorial magical rituals. My colleague was heard to mutter: "Serves those scélérats right!"