Myst: The Book of Ti'ana by Rand Miller & David Wingrove PART ONE ECHOES IN THE ROCK The sounding capsule was embedded in the rock face like a giant crystal, its occupants sealed within the translucent, soundproofed cone. The Guild Master sat facing the outstretched tip of the cone, his right hand resting delicately on the long metal shaft of the sounder, his blind eyes staring at the solid rock, listening. Behind him, his two young assistants leaned forward in their narrow metal and mesh seats, concentrating, their eyes shut tight as they attempted to discern the tiny variations in the returning signal. "Na'grenis," the old man said, the D'ni word almost growled as his left hand moved across the top sheet of the many-layered map that rested on the map table between his knees. Brittle. It was the tenth time they had sent the signal out on this line, each time a little stronger, the echoes in the rock changing subtly as it penetrated deeper into the mass. "Kenen voohee shuhteejoo," the younger of his two assistants said tentatively. It could be rocksalt. "Or chalk," the other added uncertainly. "Not this deep," the old man said authoritatively, flicking back the transparent sheets until he came to one deep in the pile. Holding it open, he reached beside him and took a bright red marker from the metal rack. "Ah," the two assistants said as one, the carmine mark as clear an explanation as if he'd spoken. "We'll sound either side," the old man said after a moment. "It might only be a pocket...." He slipped the marker back into the rack, then reached out and took the ornately decorated shaft of the sounder, delicately moving it a fraction to the right, long experience shaping his every movement. "Same strength," he said. "One pulse, fifty beats, and then a second pulse." At once his First Assistant leaned forward, adjusting the setting on the dial in front of him. There was a moment's silence and then a vibration rippled along the shaft toward the tapered tip of the cone. A single, pure, clear note sounded in the tiny chamber, like an invisible spike reaching out into the rock. * * * "What is he doing?" Guild Master Telanis turned from the observation window to look at his guest. Master Kedri was a big, ungainly man. A member of the Guild of Legislators, he was here to observe the progress of the excavation. "Guild Master Geran is surveying the rock. Before we drill we need to know what lies ahead of us." "I understand that," Kedri said impatiently. "But what is the problem?" Telanis stifled the irritation he felt at the man's bad manners. After all, Kedri was technically his superior, even if, within his own craft, Telams's word was as law. "I'm not sure exactly, but from the mark he made I'd say he's located a patch of igneous material. Magma-based basaltic rocks from a fault line, perhaps, or a minor intrusion." "And that's a problem?" Telanis smiled politely. "It could be. If it's minor we could drill straight through it, of course, and support the tunnel, but we're still quite deep and there's a lot of weight above us. The pressures here are immense, and while they might not crush us, they could inconvenience us and set us back weeks, if not months. We'd prefer, therefore, to be certain of what lies ahead." Kedri huffed. "It all seems rather a waste of time to me. The lining rock's strong, isn't it?" "Oh, very strong, but that's not the point. If the aim were merely to break through to the surface we could do that in a matter of weeks. But that's .not our brief. These tunnels are meant to be permanent-or, at least, as permanent as we can make them, rock movement willing!" Still, Kedri seemed unsatisfied. "All this stopping and starting! A man could go mad with waiting!" One could; and some, unsuited to the task, did. But of all the guilds ofD'ni, this, Telanis knew, was the one best suited to their nature. "We are a patient race, Master Kedri," he said, risking the anger of the other man. "Patient and thorough. Would you have us abandon the habits of a thousand generations?" Kedri made to answer curtly, then saw the look of challenge in Telanis's eyes and nodded. "No. You are right, Guild Master. Forgive me. Perhaps they chose the wrong man to represent our guild." Perhaps, Telanis thought, but aloud he said. "Not at all, Master Kedri. You will get used to it, I promise. And we shall do our best to keep you busy while you are here. I shall have my assistant, Aitrus, assigned to you." And now Kedri smiled, as if this was what he had been angling for all along. "That is most kind. Master Telanis. Most kind, indeed." * * * The excavator was quiet, the lighting subdued. Normally, the idle chatter of young crewmen would have rilled the narrow corridor, but since the observers had come there was a strange silence to the craft that made it seem abandoned. As the young guildsman walked along its length, he glanced about warily. Normally he took such sights for granted, but today he seemed to see it all anew. Here in the front section, just behind the great drill, was the Guild Master's cabin and, next to it, through a bulkhead that would seal automatically in times of emergency, the chart room. Beyond that, opening out to both right and left of the corridor, was the equipment room. The excavator was as self-contained as any ship at sea, everything stored, each cupboard and drawer secured against sudden jolts, but here the purpose of the craft was nakedly displayed, the massive rock drills lain neatly in their racks, blast-marble cylinders, protective helmets, and analysis tubes racked like weaponry. The young guildsman stopped, looking back along the length of the craft. He.was a tall, athletic-looking young man with an air of earnestness about him. His dark red jumpsuit fit him comfortably rather than tightly; the broad, black leather tool belt at his waist and his long black leather boots part of the common uniform worn by all the members of the expedition. His fine black hair was cut short and neat, accentuating his fineboned features, while his eyes were pale but keen. Intelligent, observant eyes. He passed on, through the crew quarters-the empty bunks stacked three to a side into the curve of the ship's walls, eighteen bunks in all-and, passing through yet another bulkhead, into the refectory. Master Jerahl, the ship's cook, looked up from where he was preparing the evening meal and smiled. "Ah, Aitrus. Working late again?" "Yes, Guild Master." Jerahl grinned paternally. "Knowing you, you'll be so engrossed in some experiment, you'll miss your supper. You want me to bring you something through?" "Thank you, Guild Master. That would be most welcome." "Not at all, Aitrus. It's good to see such keenness in a young guildsman. I won't say it to their faces, but some of your fellows think it's enough to carry out the letter of their instructions and no more. But people notice such things." Aitrus smiled. "Oh, some find me-foolish, Aitrus, I know. It's hard not to overhear things on a tiny ship like this. But I was not always a cook. Or, should I say, only a cook. I trained much as you train now, to be a Surveyor-to know the ways of the rock. And much of what I learned remains embedded here in my head. But I wasn't suited. Or, should I say, I found myself better suited to this occupation." "You trained, Master Jerahl?" "Of course, Aitrus. You think they would allow me on an expedition like this if I were not a skilled geologist?" Jerahl grinned. "Why, I spent close on twenty years specializing in stress mechanics." Aitrus stared at Jerahl a moment, then shook his head. "I did not know." "Nor were you expected to. As long as you enjoy the meals I cook, I am content." "Of that I've no complaints." "Then good. Go on through. I shall bring you something in a while." Aitrus walked on, past the bathing quarters and the sample store, and on into the tail of the craft. Here the corridor ended with a solid metal door that was always kept closed. Aitrus reached up and pulled down the release handle. At once the door hissed open. He stepped through, then heard it hiss shut behind him. A single light burned on the wall facing him. In its half-light he could see the work surface that ran flush with the curved walls at waist height, forming an arrowhead. Above and below it, countless tiny cupboards held the equipment and chemicals they used for analysis. Aitrus went across and, putting his notebook down on the worktop, quickly selected what he would need from various cupboards. This was his favorite-place in the ship. Here he could forget all else and immerse himself in the pure, unalloyed joy of discovery. Aitrus reached up, flicking his fingernail against the firemarble in the bowl of the lamp, then, in the burgeoning glow, opened his notebook to the page he had been working * * * "Aitrus?" Aitrus took his eye from the lens and turned, surprised he had not heard the hiss of the door. Jerahl was standing there, holding out a plate to him. The smell of freshly baked chorbahkh and ikhah nijuhets wafted across, making his mouth water. Jerahl smiled. "Something interesting?" Aitrus took the plate and nodded. "You want to see?" "May I?" Jerahl stepped across and, putting his eye to the lens, studied the sample a moment. When he looked up again there was a query in his eyes. "Tachyltye, eh? Now why would a young fellow like you be interested in basaltic glass?" "I'm interested in anything to do with lava flows," Aitrus answered, his eyes aglow. "It's what I want to specialize in, ultimately. Volcanism." Jerahl smiled as if he understood. "All that heat and pressure, eh? I didn't realize you were so romantic, Aitrus!" Aitrus, who had begun to eat the meat-filled roll, paused and looked at Jerahl in surprise. He had heard his fascination called many things by his colleagues, but never "romantic." "Oh, yes," Jerahl went on, "once you have seerf how this is formed, nothing will ever again impress half so much! The meeting of superheated rock and ice-chill water-it is a powerful combination. And this-this strange translucent matter-is the result." Again Jerahl smiled. "Learning to control such power, that is where we D'ni began as a species. That is where our spirit of inquiry was first awoken. So take heart, Aitrus. In this you are a true son of D'ni." Aitrus smiled back at the older man. "I am sorry we have not spoken before now. Guild Master. I did not know you knew so much." "Oh, I claim to know very little, Aitrus. At least, by comparison with Master Telanis. And while we are talking of the good Guild Master, he was asking for you not long back. I promised him I would feed you, then send you to his cabin." Aitrus, who had just lifted the roll to his mouth again, paused. "Master Telanis wants me?" Jerahl gestured toward the roll. "Once you've been fed. Now finish that or I shall feel insulted." "Whatever you say. Master!" And, grinning, Aitrus bit deep into the roll. * * * Aitrus stopped before the Guild Master's cabin and, taking a moment to prepare himself, reached out and rapped upon the door. The voice from inside was calm and assured. "Come in!" He slid back the heavy bolt and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. That much was habit. Every door in the craft was a barrier against fire or unwelcome gases. Turning, he saw that Master Telanis was at his desk looking at the latest survey chart. Facing him across the table was Master Geran. Also there were the four Observers who had joined them three days back. Aitrus took a step toward them and bowed. "You sent for me, Guild Master?" "I did. But if you would wait a moment, Aitrus, I must first deal with the news Master Geran has brought us." Aitrus lowered his head, conscious that the Legislator- the big man, Kedri-was watching him closely. "So, Geran," Telanis went on, indicating the bright red line that ran across the chart in front of him, "you recommend that we circumvent this area?" The blind man nodded. "The fault itself is narrow, admittedly, but the surrounding rock is of low density and likely to collapse. We could cut through it, of course, and shore up on either side, but I'd say there is more to come the other side of that." "You know that?" Kedri asked, interrupting the two. Geran turned his blank, unseeing eyes upon the Legislator and smiled. "I do not know it. Master Kedri, but my instinct is that this is the mere root of a much larger igneous intrusion. Part of a volcanic system. Imagine the roots of a tree. So such things are. As excavators, we try hard to avoid such instabilities. We look for hard, intact rock. Rock we have no need to support." Kedri looked puzzled at that. "But I thought it was your practice to support everything?" Telanis answered him. "We do. Guild Master. As I said, we are very thorough. But if it is as Master Geran says-and long experience would tend to bear him out-we would do well to drill sideways a way before continuing our ascent. After all, why go courting trouble?" "So how long will this ... detour take?" Telanis smiled pleasantly. "A week. Maybe two." Kedri looked far from pleased, yet he said nothing. Relieved, Telanis looked to Geran once more. "In the circumstances I approve your recommendation, Master Geran. We shall move back and across. Arrange the survey at once." Geran smiled. "I shall do it myself. Guild Master." When Geran was gone, Telanis looked across at Aitrus. "Aitrus, step forward." Aitrus crossed the narrow cabin, taking the place Geran had just vacated. "Yes, Guild Master?" "I want you to place yourself at Guild Master Kedri's disposal for the next eleven days. I want you to show him how things work and explain to him just what we are doing. And if there's anything you yourself are uncertain of, you will ask someone who dots know. Understand me?" Surprised, Aitrus nodded. "Yes, Guild Master." Then, hesitantly. "And my experiments, Guild Master?" Telanis looked to Kedri. "That depends upon Master Kedri. If he permits, I see no reason why you should not continue with them." Kedri turned to Aitrus. "Experiments, Guildsman?" Aitrus looked down, knowing suddenly that he ought not to have mentioned them. "It does not matter, Master." "No, Aitrus. I am interested. What experiments are these?" Aitrus looked up shyly. "I am studying volcanic rocks, Master. I wish to understand all I can about their nature and formation." Kedri seemed impressed. "A most worthy task, young Aitrus. Perhaps you would be kind enough to show me these experiments?" Aitrus looked to Telanis, hoping his Master would somehow get him off the hook, but Telanis was staring at the multilayered chart Geran had given him, flipping from page to page and frowning. Aitrus met Kedri's eyes again, noting how keenly the other watched him. "As you wish, Guild Master." * * * The cavern in which they rested was a perfect sphere, or would have been but for the platform on which the two excavators lay. The craft were long and sinuous, like huge, segmented worms, their tough exteriors kept buffed and polished when they were not burrowing in the rock. Metal ladders went down beneath the gridwork platform to a second, smaller platform to which the junior members of the expedition had had their quarters temporarily removed to make way for their guests. It was to here, after a long, exhausting day of explanations, that Aitrus returned, long after most of his colleagues had retired. There were thirty-six of them in all, none older than thirty_all of them graduates of the Academy; young guilds-men who had volunteered for this expedition Some had given up and been replaced along the way, but more than two -thirds of the original crews remained Two years, four months, Aitrus thought as he sat on the edge of his bedroll and began to pull off his boots. It was a long time to be away from home He could have gone home, of course-Master Telanis would have given him leave if he had asked-but that would have seemed like cheating, somehow. No, an expedition was not really an expedition if one could go home whenever one wished Even as he kicked his other boot off, he felt the sudden telltale vibration in the platform, followed an instant or two later by a low, almost inaudible rumble. A Messenger was coming' The expedition had cut its way through several miles of rock, up from one of the smaller, outermost caverns of D'ni. They could, of course, have gone up vertically, like a mine shaft, but so direct a route into D'ni was thought not merely inadvisable but dangerous The preferred scheme-the scheme the Council had eventually agreed upon-was a far more indirect route, cut at a maximum of 3825 torans-22032 degrees-from the horizontal One that could be walked One that could also be sealed oi-fwith gates and defended. The rumbling grew, slowly but steadily. You could hear the sound of the turbine engines now. Slowly but surely they had burrowed through the rock, surveying each one -hundred-span section carefully before they drilled, coating the surfaces with a half-span thickness of special D'ni rock, more durable than marble Last, but not least, they fitted heavy stone brackets into the ceiling of each section -brackets that carried air from the pumping stations back in D'ni. Between each straight-line section was one of these spherical "nodes"-these resting places where they could carry on experiments while Master Geran and his assistants charted the next stage of their journey through the earth-each node fitted with an airtight gate that could be sealed in an instant. The rumbling grew to a roar. For a moment the sound of it filled the node, then the engines cut out and there was the downward whine of the turbines as the Messenger slowed. Aitrus turned and stood, watching as the metal snout of the machine emerged from the entry tunnel, passing through the thick collar of the node-gate, its pilot clearly visible through the transparent front debris shield It was a large, tracked vehicle, its three long segments making it seem clumsy in comparison to the sleek excavators, but as ever Aitrus was glad to see it, for besides bringing them much-needed supplies-it being impossible to "link" supplies direct from D'ni into the tunnels-it also brought letters from home "Aitrus? What time is it?" Aitrus turned. His friend Jemr had woken and was sitting up. "Ninth bell," he answered, bending down to retrieve his boots and pull them on again Others had also been woken by the Messenger's arrival, and were sitting up or climbing from their beds, knowing there was unloading to be done. He himself had been temporarily excused from such duties; even so, as the others drifted across to the laSders and began to ascend, he followed, curious to see if anything had come for him. When the last Messenger had come, three days back, it had brought nothing but the Observers-those unexpected "guests" billeted upon them by the Council. Before that it had been almost three weeks since they had had contact with D'ni. Three solid weeks without news. The Messenger had come to rest between the two excavators. Already its four-man crew were busy, running pipelines between the middle segment of their craft and the two much larger vehicles, ready to transfer its load of mechanical parts, equipment, drill bits, fuel, and cooling fluid to the excavators. Aitrus yawned, then walked across. The young men of the Messengers Guild were of nature outward, friendly types, and seeing him, one of them hailed him. "Ho! Aitrus! There's a parcel for you!" "A parcel?" The Messenger gestured toward where one of his colleagues was carrying a large mesh basket into the forward cabin of the left-hand excavator. Aitrus turned and looked, then hurried after, almost running into Master Telanis coming out. "Aitrus! Why such a hurry?" "Forgive me. Guild Master. I was told there was a parcel for me." "Ah," Telanis made to walk on, then stopped, lowering his voice. "By the way, how was our guest?" Tiring, he wanted to answer. "Curious," he said after a moment, keeping his own voice low. "Oh, and imaginative." Telanis frowned. "How so?" "It would seem we are too cautious for him, Guild Master. 'Our methods are, well... inefficient." Telanis considered that, then nodded. "We must talk, Aitrus. Tomorrow. Early, perhaps, before Master Kedri has need of you. There are things you need to know." Aitrus bowed. "I shall call on you at third bell. Master." "Good. Now go and see what the Messengers have brought." Master Tejara of the Messengers had commandeered the table in the chart room to sort out the post. Surrounded by shelves of bound surveys, he looked up from his work as Aitrus entered. "Ah, Aitrus. And how are you today?" "I am well, Guild Master." Tejara flashed a smile at him. "You've heard, then?" "Master?" But Aitrus's eyes had already gone to the large, square parcel-bound in cloth and stitched-that rested to one side of the cable. "Here," Master Tejara said, handing it to him. Aitrus took it, surprised by how heavy it seemed. Unable to help himself, he held it to his ear and shook it gently. There was a gentle chime. "Well?" Tejara said, grinning at him now. "Are you going to open it or not?" Aitrus hesitated a moment, then set the parcel down on the table and, taking a slender chisel from his tool belt, slit open the stitching. The cloth fell back. Inside was a tiny wooden case, the top surface of which was a sliding panel. He slid it back and looked inside. "By the Maker!" Aitrus reached in and drew out the delicate, golden pair of portable scales. They were perfect, the spring mechanism of the finest make, the soft metal inlaid with tiny silver D'ni numerals. Nor were they the only thing. Setting the scales down carefully, he reached in once more and took out a flat, square rosewood box the size of his palm. Opening it, Aitrus stared openmouthed at the exposed pair of D'ni geological compasses, his fingertips gently brushing the tiny crystal magnifier that enabled one to read the tiny calibrations. For a moment he simply looked, studying the minute transparent dials and delicate adjustable attachments that overlay the simple circle of its working face, then shook his head in wonder. "Is it your Naming Day, Aitrus?" Tejara asked. "No," Aitrus said distractedly as he reached in a third time to lift out an envelope marked simply "Guildsman Aitrus" in an unfamiliar hand. He frowned, then looked to Tejara, who simply shrugged. Slitting the envelope open, he took out the single sheet and unfolded it. "Aitrus," it began, You might remember me from school days. I realize we were not the best of friends, but we were both young then and such misunderstandings happen. Recently, however, I chanced upon a report you wrote among my father's papers and was reminded of those unfortunate days, and it occurred to me that I might do something to attempt to reverse your poor opinion of me. If the enclosed gifts are unwelcome, please forgive me. But I hope you will accept them in the same spirit with which they are given. Good luck with your explorations! Yours in friendship, Veovis. Aitrus looked up, astonished to see that signature at the foot of the note. "It is from Veovis," he said quietly. "Lord Rakeri's son." Tejara looked surprised. "Veovis is your friend, Aitrus?" Aitrus shook his head. "No. At least, he was no friend to me at school." "Then these gifts are a surprise?" "More a shock, to be honest. Guild Master. Yet people change, I suppose." Tejara nodded emphatically. "You can be certain of it, Aitrus. Time teaches many things. It is the rock in which we bore." Aitrus smiled at the old saying. "Oh, and before I forget," Tejara added, handing him his mail, "there are three letters for you this time." * * * Aitrus lay there a long time, unable to sleep, staring at the pattern of shadows on the smooth, curved wall of the node, wondering what the gifts meant. His letters had contained the usual, cheerful news from home-chatter about old friends from his mother, word of Council matters from his father. But his mind kept going back to the note. That Veovis had written at all was amazing, that he had sent gifts was ... well, astonishing! And not just any gifts, but just those things that he most needed in his work. Oh, there were plenty of scales and compasses he could use-property of the guild-but not his own. Nor were the guild's instruments anything as fine as those Veovis had given him. Why, they were as good as those that hung from Master Telanis's own tool belt! When finally he did manage to sleep, it was to find himself dreaming of his school days, his mind, for some strange yet obvious reason, going back to a day in his thirteenth year when, tired of turning his back onVeovis's constant taunts, he had turned and fought him. He woke to find Master Telanis shaking him. "Come, Aitrus. Third bell has sounded. We need to talk." * * * The cabin door was locked. Master Telanis sat behind his desk, looking up at Aitrus. "Well, Aitrus, how did you fare with Master Kedri?" Aitrus hesitated, not sure how much to say. The truth was he did not like the task he had been given. It made him feel uncomfortable. Telanis coaxed him gently. "You said he felt our methods were inefficient." "Oh, indeed, Guild-Master. He constantly commented upon how slow our methods are. How overcautious. "And do you agree with him, Aitrus? Do you think, perhaps, that we are too pedantic in our ways?" "Not at all, Guild Master. There is, after all, no hurry. Whether we reach the surface this year or next does not matter. Safety must be our first concern. Telanis stared at him a moment, then nodded. "Good. Now let me tell you a few things, Aitrus. First, I am aware that this task is not really to your liking." Aitrus made to object, but Telanis raised a hand. "Make no mistake, Aitrus. 1 realize you are not at ease looking after Master Kedri, but I chose you for a reason. The good Master seeks to sound us out on certain topics-to survey our attitudes, if you like." Aitrus looked horrified at the thought. "Should I watch what I say. Master?" "Not at all, Aitrus. I have no fear that you will say anything that might upset Master Kedri. That is why I chose you. You are like basalt, Aitrus, solid through and through. But it would help me if, at the end of each day, you would note down those areas in which Master Kedri seemed most interested." Aitrus hesitated. "Might I ask why. Master?" "You may. But you must keep my answer strictly to yourself." Telanis paused, steepling his fingers before his chin. "There is to be a meeting of the Council, a month from now. It seems that some of the older members have had a change of heart. They have thought long and hard about whether we should make contact with the surface dwellers or not, and a few of them now feel it might not be quite so good an idea as it first seemed. Indeed, they might even ask us to abandon the expedition." Unable to help himself, Aitrus slammed his fist down on the desk. "But they can't!" Master Telanis smited tolerantly. "If that is their final word, then so be it. We must do what they say. We cannot argue with the Council." Aitrus lowered his head, acknowledging what Master Telanis said. The Council was the ruling body of D'ni and their word was law. His own opinion was irrelevant -it was what the five Great Lords and the eighteen Guild Masters decided that was important. "That is why," Telanis went on, "it is so important that we impress our guests, Aitrus, for they represent the Eighteen and the Five. What they report back might yet prove crucial in swaying the decision ... either for us or against us." "I see." And suddenly he did see. Master Kedri was not just any busybody, butting his nose into their affairs; Kedri was a potential enemy-or ally-of the expedition. All of their hard work, their patient progress through the rock, might prove to no avail if Kedri spoke against them. "I am not sure I can do this, Master." Telanis nodded. "I understand. Do you want to be relieved of this duty, Aitrus?" He stared at Master Telanis. It was as simple as that, was it? And then he understood. It was like going home. He could go home, at any time, but it was his choice not to go home that gave this voyage its meaning. So with this. He could quit, but... Aitrus lowered his head respectfully. "I shall do as you wish, Guild Master." Telanis smiled broadly. "Good. Now go and eat. You have a long day ahead of you." * * * Four long, exacting days followed, one upon another. Aitrus was ready to go back to Master Telanis and beg to be taken from his task when news came to him that they were ready to start drilling the next section. Master Kedri was in the refectory when the news came, and, delighted that he could at last show the Legislator something real and tangible, Aitrus interrupted him at table. "Yes, Guildsman?" Kedri said, staring at Aitrus. The conversation at table had died the moment Aitrus had stepped into the cabin. All four of the Observers seated about the narrow table had turned to stare at him. "Forgive me, Masters," Aitrus said, bowing to them all, "but I felt you should know at once that we are about to commence the next stage of the excavation." There was at once a babble of sound from all sides. Some stood immediately and began to make their way out. Others began to hurriedly finish their meals. Only Kedri seemed unmoved by the news. "Thank you, Aitrus," he said after a moment. "I shall finish my meal then join you. Wait for me at the site." Ten minutes later. Master Kedri stepped out of the excavator and walked across to where they had set up the sample drills. The other Observers had already gathered, waiting for operations to commence. "Let us see if I understand this correctly," Kedri began, before Aitrus could say a word. "Master Geran's 'sounding' is a rough yet fairly accurate guide to whether the rock ahead of us is sound or otherwise, correct? The next stage-this stage- is to drill a series of long boreholes to provide us with a precise breakdown of the different kinds of rock we are about to cut through." Airrus nodded, for the first time smiling at the Legislator. "Oh, I can retain some minimal information, Guildsman," Kedri said, a faint amusement on his own lips. "It isn't only contracts I can read. But there is one thing you can tell me, Aitrus, and that's where all the rock goes to." "The rock?" Aitrus laughed. "But I thought you knew, Master. I thought everyone knew! It is reconstituted." "Reconstituted?" "In the fusion-compounder. The machine reconstitutes the very matter of the rock, reforging its atomic links and thereby reducing its volume by a factor of two hundred. The result is nara." "So that's what nara is!" Kedri nodded thoughtfully. "Can I see this fusion -compounder?" Aitrus smiled, suddenly liking the man. "See it. Master? Why, you can operate it if you want!" * * * Aitrus took a sheet of paper and, for Master Kedri's benefit, sketched out a cross-section diagram of the tunnel. "This," he said, indicating the small shaded circle at the verv center of it, "is the hole made by the excavator. As you can see it's a comparatively small hole, less than a third the total circumference of the tunnel. This," and he pointed to the two closely parallel circles on the outer wall of the tunnel, "is the area that the Cycler removes." "The Cycler?" Kedri looked puzzled. "That's what we call it. It's because it cuts a giant ring from the rock surrounding the central borehole." "Ah, then that would be the big spiderlike machine, right?" Aitrus nodded. Only two days before they had exhaustively inspected all of the different excavating tools. "What happens is that the Cycler removes a circular track around the outer edge to a depth of one and a quarter spans. We then fill that space with a special seal ofD'ni stone, let that set, then chip out the "collar"- that is, the rock between the inner tunnel and the seal." "Why one and a quarter?" Aitrus sketched something on the pad, then handed it across. "As you can see, we insert a special metal brace a quarter of a span wide, deep in the cut, then pour in the sealant stone. Then, when the collar has been chipped away, we remove the brace and set up the Cycler ready to start all over." Kedri frowned. "Forgive me, Guildsman, but once again it seems a most laborious way of going about things." "Maybe so, Master Kedri, but safe. When w" make a tunnel, we make it to last." "Yes ..." Kedri nodded thoughtfully. "Still, it seems a lot of effort merely to talk to a few surface-dwellers, don't you think?" It was the first direct question of that type Kedri had asked him, and for a moment Aitrus wondered if he might not simply ignore it, or treat it as rhetorical, but Kedri, it seemed, was waiting for an answer "Well, Guildsman? Have you no opinion on the matter?" Master Telanis came to his rescue. "Forgive me, Master Kedri. Guildsman Aitrus might well have an opinion, but I am sure he would be the first to admit that at twenty-five he is far too young and inexperienced to express it openly. However, if you would welcome the opinion of someone of greater years?" Kedri laughed. "Oh, I know your opinion. Master Telanis. I simply thought it would be refreshing to seek a different, ywngtr view on things. "Oh, come now, Kedri, do you really think our Masters on Council would be in the least interested in what a young guildsman-even one as brilliant as Aitrus here -has to say? Why, Lord Tulla is near on eleven times young Aitrus's age! Do you think he would be interested." Kedri bowed his head, conceding the point. "Then let us proceed with more important matters," Telanis continued quickly, before Kedri might steer the conversation back onto more tricky ground. "Normally we would take bore samples at this stage, but as you are so keen to see us in action, Master Kedri, I have decided to waive those for once and go direct to drilling." The news seemed to cheer Kedri immensely. "Excellent!" he said, rubbing his hands together. "Will we need protective clothing of any kind?" Master Telanis shook his head. "No. But you will need to be inside the second craft. When we drill, we drill!" * * * The node-gate was closed behind them, its airtight seal ensuring that not a single particle of rock would escape back down the tunnel. The temporary camp had been packed up and stored; the sounding capsule attached to the back of the second excavator, which now rested against the back wall of the node, slightly to the left of the bore-site. Two large observation lenses had been mounted on the ceiling to either side of the site, high up so that they'd not be hit by flying rock. All was now ready. Master Telanis had only to give the order. Aitrus was in the second vehicle, standing at the back of the chart room behind the Observers, who looked up at the big screen, watching as the excavator was maneuvered into place. In operation it seemed more like something living than a machine, its sinuous, quiet movements like those of a giant snake. Aitrus looked on with quiet satisfaction. He had first seen an excavator in action when he was four-when his father, a guildsman before him-had taken him to see the cutting of a new tunnel between the outer caverns. Kedri, in particular, seemed impressed. He was leaning forward, staring at the screen in fascination. "In place!" Master Telanis called out, his voice transmitted into the chart room where they sat. A moment later a siren sounded, its whine rising and then falling again. The snout of the excavator came around and seemed almost to kiss the bore-mark on the rock face, so gentle was its touch, but the great drill bit had a brutal look to it; and as they watched, they saw the cooling fluid begin to dribble down the thick grooves of the drill. Slowly the drill began to turn, nudging blindly into the rock, the mechanical whirr of its slow spiral accompanied by a deeper, grinding sound that seemed to climb in pitch as the bit whirred faster and faster until it was a squeal, great clouds of dust billowing out from all around it. The noise was now deafening, the vibrations making the second excavator ring like a struck bell. Slowly the great sphere of the node filled with dust, partly obscuring their view. Yet every now and then they would glimpse the excavator again, each time buried deeper and deeper into the rock, like some ferocious, feral animal boring into the soft flesh of its victim. From time to time there would be a clang or thud as a large fragment of rock struck their craft, but there was no danger-the excavators were built to withstand massive pressures. Even a major collapse would merely ftrap the machine, not crush it. After a while, Kedri turned and looked to Aitrus. "It's a fearsome sight," he said, raising his voice above the din. Aitrus nodded. The first time he had seen it he had felt a fear deep in the pit of his stomach, yet afterward, talking to his father, he had remembered it with wonder and a sense of pride that this was what his guildspeople did. Perhaps it was even that day when he had decided to follow his father into the Guild of Surveyors. "Watch the tail," he shouted, indicating the screen as, briefly, the excavator came into view again. It was almost wholly in the rock now, yet even as they watched, the tail end of the craft began to lash from side to side-again like a living thing-scoring the smooth-bored wall of the tunnel with tooth-shaped gashes. "Why does it do that?" Kedri shouted back. "To give our men a purchase on the wall. Those gashes are where we begin to dig out the collar. It makes it much easier for us!" Kedri nodded. "Clever. You think of everything!" Yes, Aitrus thought, but then we have had a thousand generations to think of everything. * * * In the sudden silence, the excavator backed out of the hole, its segmented sides coated in dust, its drill head glowing red despite the constant stream of coolant. Inside the node the dust was slowly settling. "Can we go outside and see for ourselves now?" One of the other Observers, Ja'ir, a Master in the Guild of Writers asked. "I am afraid not," Aitrus answered him. "It is much too hot. Besides, you would choke on the dust. Even our men will have to wear breathing suits for a while. No, first they will have to spray the node with water to settle the dust. Then, once the drill bit has cooled a little, we shall start pumping air back into the node from outside. Only then will they start the clearing up process." "And the next stage of drilling?" Kedri asked, turning fully in his seat and leaning over the back of the chair to stare at Aitrus. "That begins almost at once. Master," Aitrus answered. "Look." Even as he spoke, a door opened in the side of the excavator and two young guildsmen stepped out, suited-up, air canisters feeding the sealed helmets they were wearing. They were both carrying what looked like spears, only these spears were curved and had sharp, diamond tips at the end. "They'll set the Cycler up straight away. We should be able to start the second stage of drilling as soon as that's done. Meanwhile, the rest of the men will begin the clearing up operation." As the two suited guildsmen began to put together the great cutting hoop of the Cycler, two more stepped out, trailing flaccid lengths of hose behind them. Getting into position in the center of the platform, one of them turned and gave a hand signal. Almost at once the hoses swelled and a jet of water gushed from each, arching up into the ceiling of the great sphere. As the two men adjusted the nozzles of their hoses, the fountain of water was transformed into a fine mist that briefly seemed to fill the node. It lasted only a minute or two, but when the water supply was cut, the node was clear of dust, though a dark paste now covered every surface. Aitrus smiled. "If you ever wondered what we surveyors do most of the time, it's this. Cleaning up!" There was laughter. "You talk as if you dislike the job, Aitrus," Kedri said with a smile. "Not at all. It gives me time to think." Kedri stared at him a moment, a thoughtful expression in his eyes, then he turned back, leaving Aitrus to wonder just what was going on inside the Legislator's head. * * * The four Observers stepped out from the excavator, their movements slightly awkward in the unfamiliar protective suits Master Telanis had insisted they wear. Kedri, as ever, led the way, Aitrus at his side as they stepped over to the tunnel's , mouth. The Cycler had done its job several times already and the cadets had already chipped out a section twenty spans in length and sprayed it with a coating ofD'ni stone. Further down the tunnel, they could see the dark 0 of the central borehole running straight into the rock and, surrounding it like some strange, skeletal insect, the Cycler, encased in its translucent sheath. Two brightly glowing fire-marbles the size of clenched fists were suspended from the ceiling. In their blazing blue-white light a number of cadets loaded rock onto a mobile trailer. "This is more like it," Kedri said, with an air of satisfaction. "This is just how I imagined it." They walked slowly toward the lamps. Surrounding them, the finished section of the tunnel had the look of permanence. Moving past the young guildsmen, they approached the rock face, stopping beneath the anchored feet of the Cycler. They looked up, past the sleek engine of the Cycler to where its great revolving hoop was at rest against the face. The transparent sheath surrounding the Cycler was there to catch the excavated rock and channel it down into a chute that fed straight into the central borehole. From there the cadets would collect it up, using great suction hoses, and feed it into the pulverizer. Kedri looked to Aitrus. "You remember your promise, Aitrus?" "I have not forgotten." "Then what are we waiting for?" Aitrus turned and signaled to his friend, Efanis, who was working nearby. At once, Efanis came across and, positioning himself at the controls'of the Cycler, gave two long blasts on the machine's siren. Kedri made a face. "Yours must be the noisiest of guilds, young Aitrus. It seems you do nothing without a great blast of air beforehand!" Aitrus smiled. It was true. If anyone was up there, they would surely hear them long before they broke through to the surface. "If you would make sure your masks are kept down, Masters," he said, looking from one to another. "It should be perfectly safe, but if the sheath was to be punctured your headgear should protect you." "Cautious," Kedri muttered. "Ever cautious!" Slowly the great cutting-hoop of the Cycler began to spin, slowly at first, then faster, at first only skimming tR'e surface of the rock, whistling all the while. Then, abruptly, the whole top of the Cycler seemed to lean into the rock face, a great grinding buzz going up as if a thousand swarms of bees had all been released at once. Chips of rock flew like hailstones against the clear, thick surface of the sheath. Slowly the arm of the Cycler raised on its hydraulics, moving toward the horizontal as the spinning cutting hoop bit deeper and deeper into the rock, carving its great 0, like the outer rim of an archery target. In less than three minutes it was done. Slowly the machine eased back, the hoop slipping from the rock, its surface steaming hot. As the Observers turned, four of the young Surveyors wheeled the great metal hoop of the brace down the tunnel toward them. They had seen already how it was mounted on the cutting hoop, then pushed into place. So easy it seemed, yet every stage was fraught with dangers and difficulties. As the guildsmen took over, removing the covering sheath and fitting the brace, Kedri and his fellows stood back out of their way. Only when they were finished and the brace was in place did Aitrus take them through, past the base of the Cycler and into the central borehole. It was darker here, but the piles of rock stood out against the light from outside. Aitrus pointed to two machines that stood to one side. The first was recognizably the machine they used to gather up all the fragments of rock, a great suction hose coiling out from the squat, metallic sphere at its center. The second was small and squat, with what looked like a deep, wedge-shaped metal tray on top. Ignoring the rock-gatherer, Aitrus stooped and, picking up one of the larger chunks of rock, handed it to Kedri. "Well, Guild Master? Do you want to feed the compounder?" Kedri grinned and, taking the rock over to the machine, dropped it into the tray. "What now?" he asked, looking to Aitrus. In answer, Aitrus stepped up and pressed a button on the | face of the fusion -compounder. At once a metal lid slid across over the tray. There was a low, grinding sound, and then the lid slid back. The tray was now empty. "And the nara?" Aitrus crouched and indicated a bulky red cylinder that rested in a mesh cage on the underside of the machine. "The nara is kept in there," Aitrus said, "in its basic, highly compacted form, until we need to use it." "But surely it would just... solidify!" Aitrus nodded. "It does. The cylinder is just temporary; a kind of jacket used to mold the nara into a storable form. When we have enough of the nara, we load up another machine with the cylinders. In effect, that machine is little more than a large pressure-oven, operating at immensely high pressures, within which the cylinders are burned away and the nara brought back to a more volatile, and thus usable, state." "The sprayer, you mean?" Kedri said, staring at Aitrus in open astonishment. Aitrus nodded. Kedri crouched, staring at the bright red cylinder in awe, conscious of the immense power of these simple-seeming machines, then, like a schoolboy who has been briefly let off the leash, he straightened up and, looking about him, began-to gather up rocks to feed into the machine. * * * That night Master Telanis took Aitrus aside once more. "I hear our friends enjoyed themselves today. That was a good idea of yours to let them operate a few of the less dangerous machines. They're bookish types, and such types are impressed by gadgetry. And who knows, even something this small may serve to sway them for the good." "Then you think it is good?" "Making contact with the surface-dwellers?" Telanis smiled. "Yes. Just so long as it is done discreetly." Aitrus frowned. "How do you mean?" "I mean, I do not think we should mix our race with theirs. Nor should we think of any extended relationship with them. They are likely, after all, to be a primitive race, and primitive races-as we have learned to our cost-tend to be warlike in nature. It would not do to have them pouring down our tunnels into D'ni." "But what kind of relationship does that leave us?" Telanis shrugged, then. "We could go among them as Observers. That is, providing we are not too dissimilar from them as a species." "But why? What would we learn from doing that?" "They might have certain cultural traits-artifacts and the like-that we might use. Or they might even have developed certain instruments or machines, though, personally, I find that most unlikely." "It seems, then, that Master Kedri is right after all, and that ours is something of a fool's errand." Master Telanis sat forward, suddenly alert. "Are those his words?" "Something like. It was something he was saying to one of the other Observers -Ja'ir, I think-as they were coming away from the rock face. Ja'ir was wondering aloud whether there was anyone up there on the surface anyway." "And?" Aitrus paused, trying to recall the conversation. "Master Kedri was of the opinion that there would be. His view was that the climatic conditions are ideal for the development of an indigenous species." "And on what did he base this claim?" "It seems that all four of them have seen copies of the Book." "The Book of Earth," Telanis said, nodding thoughtfully. "It was written by Grand Master Ri'Neref himself, Aitrus, perhaps the greatest of the ancient Writers. Yet it is said that it was one he wrote as an. apprentice." "So Master Kedri also claimed. Yet most troubling, perhaps, was what Master Ja'ir said next." Telanis's eyes seemed to pierce Aitrus. "Go on." "Ja'ir said that whether there was a humanoid race up there on the surface or not, he nevertheless wondered whether so much time and effort ought to have been spent on such a speculative venture." "Speculative ... he said speculative, did he?" Aitrus nodded. Master Telanis sat back and stared thoughtfully. For a while he did not speak, then, looking at Aitrus, he asked, "And what do_yot< think, Aitrus? Is it worth it?" "Yes, Guild Master. To know for certain that we are sharing a world with another intelligent species-that surely is worth twice the time and effort that we have given it!" * * * While the excavation was in process, the young guildsmen had been permitted to return to their quarters on the ships, while the Observers had been moved into the Guild Master's cabin in the second excavator. Aitrus returned to his bunk. Briefly he smiled, thinking ofKedri's comment, but the smile quickly faded. The endless secondary process of clearing up normally gave him time to think of his experiments, something he had little time to do these past few days. Indeed, it made him wonder how others could stand to live as Kedri so clearly lived, constantly in someone else's pocket. Personally, he needed space, and quiet. Yes, and an adequate supply of chemicals and notebooks! he thought, recollecting how his mother used to tease him about his obsession with rocks and geological processes. Unnatural, she had said, but the old cook, Master Jerahl, was right, there was nothing more natural for a D'ni. Stone was their element. As he sat on the edge of his bunk, he could hear the whine of drills and the sudden crunch as rock fell to the floor. Let others think birdsong and the sound of a river flowing were natural; for him, this was the most natural of sounds. "Young worm," his father had called him as a child, as if anticipating his future calling, and so he had become. A burrower. A seeker of passages. An explorer of the dark. Aitrus stood, meaning to undress for sleep, when there came the sound of a commotion outside. He hurried along the corridor and poked his head out, looking about* him. It was coming from inside the tunnel. The sound of a human in pain. He heard a scuffling behind him. A moment later. Master Telanis joined him in the doorway. "What is it, Aitrus?" "Someone's hurt." The two men ran across. At the tunnel's mouth, one of the young engineers met them, his face distraught. "Who is it, Ta'nerin?" Telanis asked, holding his arms. "It's Efanis. The cutting tip shattered. He's badly hurt. We've tried to staunch the blood but we can't stop it!" "Fetch Master Avonis at once. I'll see what I can do!" Letting Ta'nerin go, Master Telanis ran, Aitrus close behind. The tunnel was almost finished now. Only the last 5 spans remained uncut. There, at the far end, beneath the burning arc lamps, they could see a small group of cadets gathered-some kneeling, some standing-around one of their colleagues. The moaning grew-an awful, piteous sound. As the two men came up, they saw just how badly Efanis was injured. The wound was awful. The shattered tip must have flown back and hit Efanis full in the chest and upper arm. He had not stood a chance. Even as they stood there he gave a great groan. Blood was on his lips. Pushing between the guildsmen, Master Telanis tore off his shirt and poked it into the wound. Then, looking about him, he spoke urgently, trying to rouse them from their shock. "Help me, then, lads! Quick now!" And, reaching down, he gently cradled Efanis's head even as the others crowded around, putting their ha^nds under Efanis's shoulders and back and thighs. "That's good," Telanis said softly, encouraging them as they gently lifted the groaning Efanis. "Now let's get him back to the excavator. The sooner Master Avonis gets to look at him, the better." * * * There had been accidents before, but never anything more severe than broken bones, or bruising, or rock splinters. Master Telanis prided himself on his safety record. Efanis's accident had thus come as a great shock. When Aitrus reported to Kedri the next morning, it was to find the Legislator crouched over a desk in the chart room, writing. He looked up as Aitrus entered and put down his pen. "I'm sorry, Aitrus. I understand that Efanis was your friend. A bad business, eh?" Aitrus nodded, but he felt unable to speak. Efanis was not yet out of trouble. "I'll not be needing you today, Aitrus, so take the day off. Do your experiments, if you wish. We'll carry on tomorrow." "Yes, Master." Leaving Kedri to his work, Aitrus went straight to Master Telanis. He found him in the tunnel, crouching beside the temporarily abandoned excavation, staring at a dark patch in the rock. At the center of that small, irregular ovoid was a tiny, slightly flattened circle of what looked like glass. It had the look of a bruised eye staring from the rock. "What is that?" Aitrus asked. Telanis looked up at him. "It appears to be a pyroclastic deposit-a 'volcanic bomb' deposited in this strata hundreds of millions of years ago." The Guild Master pointed to the outer, darker area. "The outside of it is simple obsidian -a glassy basalt-but this pellucid nugget here was already embedded within it when the volcano spat it out. It looks and feels like diamond." Aitrus nodded. "My guess," Telanis continued, "is that the cutting tip slipped on the glassy surface, then snagged on this much harder patch here and shattered." He sighed heavily. "I should have taken core samples, Aitrus. I was in too much of a hurry to impress our guests. And now this has come of it." "You cannot blame yourself. Guild Master," Aitrus said. "The bit must have been flawed, anyway. One cannot foresee everything." "No?" Telanis stood. He looked about him at the abandoned tools, his eyes, for the first time that Aitrus could recall, troubled by what he saw. "If not me, then who, Aitrus? It is my job to ensure the safety of my crews, my responsibility, no one else's. That Efanis is hurt is my fault. If I had done my job properly ..." Aitrus put out his hand to touch his Master's arm, then withdrew it. In a sense Telanis was right. All of their patient checks and procedures were designed to avoid an event like this. He cleared his throat. "Master Kedri says he does not need me today. Guild Master. I came to be reassigned." Telanis glanced at him, then made a vague gesture with his hand. "Not now, Aitrus. We'll do no work today." "But, Master..." "Not now." * * * Aitrus packed a knapsack for the journey and set off, walking back down the nodes to where-almost two months before- they had drilled through a small cave system. Though they had labored long and hard in the rock, it took but an hour or so to reach his destination. For the first part the way was fairly straightforward, zigzagging back and forth in the normal D'ni way, but then it branched to the left, where they had been forced to detour around an area of folds and faults. His way was dimly lit. Chemicals in the green-black coating ot D'ni rock gave off a faint luminescence bright enough to see in. But Aitrus had packed two lamps and a small canister of luminescent algae for when he left the D'ni path. Coming to his destination, he rested briefly, seated on the rock ledge outside the circular door that led through into the cave system, and ate a brief meal. The sphere of this node had been peppered with openings-some tiny apertures barely large enough to poke one's hand into, others big enough to walk inside. One-the one he now sat outside-had been large enough to drive the excavator inside. Indeed, with Master Telanis's permission, they had shored up the entrance and bored almost fifty spans into the rock, widening the passageway to give access to a large cavern that lay just beyond. But time had been pressing and they had not had more than a day or two to explore the system before they had had to press on with their excavations. They had sealed the tunnel with a small gate-similar to those that linked the nodes to the lengths of D'ni tunnel -leaving the caverns for future investigation, then they had sprayed the rest of the node with a smooth coating of nara. Aitrus had made extensive notes of the cave system at the time. Now he had the chance to go back and resume his explorations. The thought of it cheered him as, finishing his meal, he stood and, taking the protective helmet from his pack, he strapped it on and, slipping the sack onto his shoulder, walked over to the lock. It was a simple pressure lock. Turning the wheel, he could hear the air hiss out from the vent overhead. A moment later a crack appeared down the very center of the door and the two halves of it slid back into the surrounding collar. Inside was darkness. In a small cloth bag he carried in his pocket he had a collection of fire -marbles. Taking one from the bag, he opened the back of the lamp mounted on his helmet and popped it into the tiny space. Clicking it shut, he waited for a moment until the fire-marble began to glow. After less than a minute a clear, strong white radiance shone out from the lamp into the darkness, revealing the smooth, uncoated walls of rock within. Aitrus smiled, then stepped inside. * * * Aitrus paused to spray a tiny arrow on the rock wall, pointing back the way he had come, then slipped the canister away and walked slowly on, counting each step, all the time turning his head from side to side, scanning the walls and floor ahead of him. After a moment he stopped again and took his notebook from his pocket, quickly marking down how many paces he had come before checking his compass again to see if the tunnel had diverged from its slow descent. It was a narrow passageway, one they had not explored the first time he had been here. Overhead it tapered to a crack that seemed to go some way into the rock, but it was barely wide enough to walk down, and it was slowly narrowing. Up ahead, however, it seemed to emerge into a larger space-a small cavern, perhaps -and so he persevered, hoping he might squeeze through and investigate. The rock was silent. There were no waterflows here, no steady drip from unseen heights, only the absence of sound. He was the intruder here, the noise of his own breathing loud in his ears. It was warm in the rock and he felt no fear. Since he'd been a child and his father had first taken him deep inside the rock, he had felt no fear. What he felt,, if anything, was a tiny thrill of anticipation. There was hidden beauty in the rock. Locked deep within the earth were caverns of such delicate, shimmering beauty that, to step out into them, was a joy beyond all measuring. Taking his sack from his shoulders, he dropped it softly onto the floor of the passage, then turned and began to squeeze into the narrow space. Breathing in, he found he could just slip through. He turned, then grabbed hold of the rock beside him. Just below him the rock fell away into a narrow chasm. To his left it climbed to meet a solid wall of rock. But to his right... Aitrus grinned. To his right, just beyond the gap, the cavern opened out. Points of shimmering crystal seemed to wink back at him as he turned his head. The roof of the cavern was low, but the cave itself went back some way, a huge, pillarlike outcrop of rock concealing what lay at the far end. Aitrus turned and, squeezing back through, retrieved his sack. By the timer on his wrist he had been gone from the base-node almost three hours, but there was still plenty of time. Securing the strap of the sack about his wrist, he edged through the gap again, standing on the lip of the entrance hole. The gap seemed deep, but he could jump it at a stride. The trouble would be getting back, as the floor of the cave was much lower than where he stood. It would not be so easy leaping up onto this ledge. Taking a length of rope from his sack, Aitrus hammered a metal pin into the rock beside him and tied one end of the rope fast about it. He uncoiled the rope, letting two or three spans of it hang down, then jumped down. For a moment he looked about him, his eyes searching for a chunk of loose stone to lay upon the end of the rope to keep it in place, but there was nothing. The rock was strangely fused here and glassy. Aitrus coiled the end of the rope and rested it on the rock, trusting that it would not slip into the gap. Then, straightening up, he turned to face the cavern. For a moment Aitrus held himself perfectly still, the beam of light from his lamp focused on the pillar at the far end of the cavern, then he crouched and, again taking his notebook from his pocket, rested it on his knee, and began to sketch what he saw. Finished, he began to walk across. The floor was strangely smooth and for a moment Aitrus wondered if he were in a volcanic chamber of some kind. Then, with a laugh, he stopped and crouched. "Agates!" he said softly, his voice a whisper in that silent space. "Agates in the rock'" Taking a hammer and chisel from his tool belt, Aitrus chipped at the smooth surface of the rock just to his left, then, slipping the tools back into their leather holsters, he reached down and gently plucked his find from the rock. The agate was a tiny piece of chalcedony no bigger than a pigeon's egg. He held it up and studied it, then, reaching behind him, popped it into the sack on his back. There were others here, and he quickly chipped them from the rock. Some were turquoise, others a deep summer blue. One, however, was almost purple in color and he guessed that it was possibly an amethyst. Aitrus smiled broadly, then stood once more. Such agates were hypabyssal-small intrusive bodies from deep in the earth's crust that had been thrust up with the lava flow to cool at these shallow depths. In a sense they were no more than bubbles in the lava flow; bubbles that had been filled with heated groundwater. Long eons had passed and this was the form they had taken. Polished they would look magnificent. Aitrus began to walk toward the distant pillar of rock, but he had taken no more than two paces when the floor beneath him began to tremble. At first he thought they had perhaps begun drilling again, for the source of the vibrations seemed quite distant, but then he^recalled what Master Telanis had said. We'll do no work today ... As if to emphasize the point, the ground shuddered. There was a deep rumbling in the rock. He could hear rock falling in the passage behind him. Aitrus walked across. If the passage collapsed, he would be trapped here, and it might be days before anyone knew where he was. He had told no one that he was off exploring. The rope, at least, was still where he had left it. He swung across and pulled himself up onto the ledge. There was the faintest trembling in the rock. A trickle of dust fell from a crack above him. He looked up. If there was to be a proper quake, that rock would come down. Calming himself, Aitrus squeezed through the gap and began to walk back along the narrow rock passage. He was halfway along when the rock shook violently. There was a crashing up ahead of him, dust was in his mouth suddenly, but the passage remained unblocked. He kept walking, picking up his pace. The luminous arrows he had left to mark his way shone out, showing him the direction back to the node. Coming to one of the smaller caverns near the node, he found his way blocked for the first time. A fall of rock filled the end of the cavern, but he remembered that there was another way around, through a narrow borehole. Aicrus went back down the tunnel he'd been following until he found it, then crawled through on his hands and knees, his head down, the sack pushed before him. There was a slight drop on the other side. Aitrus wormed his way around and dangled his feet over the edge. He was about to drop, when he turned and looked. The slight drop had become a fall of three spans-almost forty feet. Hanging on tightly, he turned his head, trying to see if there was another way out. There wasn't. He would have to climb down the face, using metal pins for footholds. It took him a long time, but eventually he was down. Now he only had to get back up again. He could see where the tunnel began again, but it was quite a climb, the last two spans of it vertical. There was nothing he could do; he would have to dig handholds in the rock face with a hammer. The ascent was slow. Twice the ground shook and almost threw him down into the pit out of which he was climbing, but he clung on until things were quiet again. Eventually he clambered up into the tunnel. If he was right, he was at most fifty spans from the gate. Half running, he hurried down the tunnel. Here was the tiny cavern they had called The Pantry, here the one they'd called The Steps. With a feeling of great relief, he ducked under the great slab of stone that marked the beginning of the cave system and out into the D'ni borehole. Glancing along the tunnel, Aitrus could see at once that it had been badly damaged. The sides had been smooth and perfectly symmetrical. Now there were dark cracks all along it, and huge chunks of rock had fallen from the ceiling and now rested on the tunnel's floor. Ignoring the feeling in the pit of his stomach Aitrus walked slowly on. He could see that the gate was closed. It would have closed as soon as the first tremor registered in its sensors. All the gates along the line, in every node, would be closed. If he could not open it he would be trapped, as helpless as if he'd stayed in the cavern where he'd found the agates. There was a rarely used wheel in the center of the gate, an emergency pressure -release. Bracing himself against the huge metal door, Aitrus heaved the wheel around, praying that another tremor wouldn't come. At first nothing, then, the sound making him gasp with relief, there was a hiss of air and the door opened, its two halves sliding back into the collar of rock. Aitrus jumped through, knowing that at any moment another quake might come and force the doors to slam shut again. After the tunnel, the node was brightness itself. Aitrus blinked painfully, then turned to look back into the borehole. As he did, the whole of the ceiling at the end came crashing down. Dust billowed toward him. At the sudden noise, the sensors in the gate were activated and the doors slammed shut, blocking out both noise and dust. Aitrus whistled to himself, then turned, looking about him. The walls of the great sphere in which he stood were untouched-it would take a major quake to affect the support walls-but both node-gates were shut. He would have to wait until the tremors subsided. Aitrus sat and took his notebook from his pocket, beginning to write down all that had happened. It was important to make observations and write down everything, just in case there was something important among it all. Small tremors were quite common; they happened every month or so, but these were strong. Much stronger in fact, than anything he had ever encountered. He remembered the agates and got them out. For a while he studied them, lost in admiration. Then, with a cold and sudden clarity, he realized they were clues. This whole region was volcanic. Its history was volcanic. These agates were evidence of countless millennia of volcanic activity. And it was still going on. They had been boring their tunnels directly through the heart of a great volcanic fault. Stowing the agates back in the sack, Aitrus wrote his observations down, then closed the notebook and looked up. It was at least an hour since the last tremor. As if acknowledging the fact, the node-gates hissed and then slid open. Aitrus stood, then picked up his sack and slung it over his shoulder. It was time to get back. * * * As Aitrus stepped out from beneath the node-gate, he frowned. The base camp was strangely silent. The two excavators remained where he had last seen them but there was no sign of the frenetic activity he had expected after the quakes. It was as if the site had been abandoned. He walked across, a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, then stopped, hearing noises from the tunnel; the faintest murmur of voices, like a ritual chant. Coming to the tunnel's entrance, he saw them: the whole company of both ships. Kned up in ranks, together with the four Observers, who stood off in a tiny group to one side. The assembly stood at the far end, where the accident had happened, their heads bowed. At once Aitrus knew. This was a ceremony to mark Efanis's passage. He could hear the words drift back to him, in Master Telanis's clear and solemn tones. "In rock he lived, in rock he rests." And as the words faded, so Master Telanis lay the dead guildsman's hand upon the open linking book, moving back as the body shimmered in the air and vanished. It was now in the great burial Age of 7 e'Negamiris. Aitrus bowed his head, standing where he was in the tunnel's mouth, mouthing the words of the response, along with the rest of the company. "May Yavo, the Maker receive his soul." Everyone was silent again, marking Efanis's passage with respect, then individual heads began to come up. Master Telanis looked across; seeing Aitrus, he came across and, placing a hand on Aitrus's arm, spoke to him softly. "I'm sorry, Aitrus. It happened very quickly. An adverse reaction to the medication. He was very weak." Aitrus nodded, but the fact had not really sunk in. For a time, in the tunnels, he had totally forgotten about his friend. "Are you all right?" "I'm fine," Aitrus answered. "I went back to the cave system. There's a lot of damage there. The quakes ..." Telanis nodded. "Master Geran seems to chink it is only a settling of the surrounding rock, but we need to make more soundings before we proceed. There may be some delays." "Guild Master Kedri will not be pleased." "No, nor his fellows. But it cannot be helped. We must be certain it is nothing critical." Master Telanis paused, then. "It might mean that Master Kedri will require your services for slightly longer than anticipated, Aitrus. Would that worry you?" Master Telanis had said nothing about Aitrus not letting anyone know where he had gone. That, Aitrus knew, was his way. But Aitrus felt guilty about the breach, and it was, perhaps, that guilt that made him bow his head and answer. "No, Guild Master." * * * As Master Kedri climbed up into the Messenger, he turned, looked back at Aitrus, and smiled. "Thank you, Aitrus. I shall not forget your kindness." Aitrus returned the smile. "And I shall not forget to deliver your letter," Kedri added, patting the pocket of his tunic, where the letter lay. "Thank you, Guild Master." Kedri ducked inside. A moment later the door hissed shut and the turbines of the craft came to life. Aitrus stepped back, rejoining the others who had gathered to see off the Observers. "You did well, Aitrus," Master Telanis said quietly, coming alongside as the Messenger turned and slowly edged into the tunnel, heading back to D'ni. "Yet I fear it was naf enough," Aitrus answered. Telanis nodded, a small movement in his face indicating that he, too, expected little good to come of the Observers' report. Unexpectedly, Master Kedri and his fellows had chosen not to wait for tunneling to recommence, deciding, instead, to return at once. All there read it as a clear sign that the four men had made up their minds about the expedition. Efanis's death, the quakes-these factors had clearly influenced that choice - had, perhaps, pushed them to a decision. Even so, the waiting would be hard. "What shall we do, Guild Master?" Aitrus asked, seeing how despondent Telanis looked. Telanis glanced at him, then shrugged. "I suppose we shall keep on burrowing through the rock, until they tell us otherwise." * * * Progress was slow. Master Geran took many soundings over the following five days, making a great chart of all the surrounding rock, then checking his findings by making test borings deep into the strata. It was ten full days before Master Telanis gave the order to finish off the tunnel and excavate the new node. Knowing how close the Council's meeting now was, everyone in the expedition feared the worst. Any day now they might be summoned home, the tunnels filled, all their efforts brought to nothing, but still they worked on, a stubborn pride in what they did making them work harder and longer. The advance team finished excavating and coating the sphere in a single day, while the second team laid the air brackets. That evening they dismantled the platforms and moved the base camp on. Efanis's death had been a shock, but none there had known quite how it would affect them. Now they knew. As Aitrus's team sat there that evening in the refectory, there was a strange yet intimate silence. No one had to speak, yet all there knew what the others were feeling and thinking. Finally, the old cook, Jerahl, said it for them. "It seems unfair that we should come to understand just how important this expedition is, only for it to be taken frorr us." There was a strong murmur of agreement. Since Efanis') death, what had been for most an adventure had taken on thf aspect of a crusade. They wanted now to finish this tunnel, tc complete the task they had been given by the Council. Whethel there was anyone up there on the surface or not did not mattel now; it was the forging of the tunnel through the earth th"l was the important thing. Aitrus, never normally one to speak in company, broke habit now and answered Jerahl. "It would indeed seem ill if Efanis were to die for nothing." Again, there was a murmur of-assent from those seated about Aitrus. But that had hardly died when Master Telanis, who now stood in the doorway, spoke up. "Then it is fortunate that the Council see fit to agree with you, Aitrus." There was a moment's shocked silence, then a great cheer went up. Telanis grinned and nodded at Aitrus. In one hand he held a letter, the seal of which was broken. "A special courier arrived a moment ago. It appears we have been given a year's extension!" There was more cheering. Everyone was grinning broadly now. "But of much greater significance," Telanis continued as the noise subsided, "is the fact that we have been given permission to build a great shaft." "A shaft, Master?" Telanis nodded, a look of immense satisfaction on his face. "It seems the Council are as impatient as we to see what is on the surface. There is to be no more burrowing sideways through the rock. We are to build a great shaft straight up to the surface. We are to begin the new soundings in the morning!" * * * The moon was a pale circle in the star-spattered darkness of the desert sky. Beneath it, in a hollow between two long ridges of rock, two travelers had stopped and camped for the night, their camels tethered close by. It was cool after the day's excessive heat, and the two men sat side by side on a narrow ridge of rock, thick sheepskins draped over their shoulders; sheepskins that had been taken from the great leather saddles that rested on the ground just behind them. They were traders, out of Tadjinar, heading south for the markets of Jemaranir. It had been silent; such a perfect silence as only the desert knows. But now, into that silence, came the faintest sound, so faint at first that each of the travelers kept quiet, thinking they had imagined it. But then the sound increased, became a presence in the surrounding air. The ground was gently vibrating. The two men stood, looking about them in astonishment. The noise intensified, became a kind of hum. Suddenly there was a clear, pure note in the air, like the noise of a great trumpet sounding in the depths below. Hurrying over to the edge of the rocky outcrop, they stared in wonder. Out there, not a hundred feet from where they stood, the sand was in movement, a great circle of it trembling violently as if it were being shaken in a giant sieve. Slowly a great hoop of sand and rock lifted, as if it were being drawn up into the sky. At the same time, the strange, unearthly note rose in intensity, filling the desert air, then ceased abruptly. At once the sand dropped, forming a massive circle where it fell. The two men stared a moment longer, then, as one, dropped onto their hands and knees, their heads touching the rock. "Allah preserve us!" they wailed. "Allah keep us and comfort us!" From the camp behind them, the sound of the camels' fearful braying filled the desert night. * * * Master Geran sat back and smiled, his blind eyes laughing. "Perfect," he said, looking to where Master Telanis stood. "I intensified the soundings. Gave the thing a real blast this time! And it worked! We have clear rock all the way to the surface!" Telanis, who had been waiting tensely for Geran's analysis of the sounding, let out a great sigh of relief. "Are you saying this is it, Master Geran?" Geran nodded. "We shall need to cut test holes, naturally. But I would say that this was the perfect site for the shaft." "Excellent!" Telanis grinned. For three months they had pressed on, burrowing patiently through the rock, looking for such a site. Now they had it. "I should warn you," Geran said, his natural caution resurfacing. "There is a large cave off to one side of the proposed excavation. But that should not affect us. It is some way off. Besides, we shall be making our shaft next to it, not under it." "Good," Telanis said. "Then I shall inform the Council at once. We can get started, excavating the footings. That should take us a month, at least." "Oh, at least!" Geran agreed, and the two old friends laughed. "At last," Telanis said, placing a hand on Geran's shoulder and squeezing it gently. "I was beginning to think I would never see the day." "Nor I," Geran agreed, his blind eyes staring up into Telanis's face. "Nor I." * * * The preparations were extensive. First they had to excavate a massive chamber beneath where the shaft was to be. It was a job the two excavators were not really suited to, and though they began the work by making two long curving tunnels on the perimeter, heavier cutting equipment was swiftly brought up from D'ni to carry out this task. While this was being organized. Master Geran, working with a team of senior members of the Guild of Cartographers, designed the main shaft. This was not as simple a job as it might have appeared, for the great shaft was to be the hub of a network of much smaller tunnels that would branch out from it. Most of these were service tunnels, leading back to D'ni, but some extended the original excavation to the north. As things developed, Master Telanis found himself no longer leading the expedition but only one of six Guild Masters working under Grand Master Iradun himself, head of the Guild of Surveyors. Other guilds, too, were now steadily more involved in the work. Aitrus, looking on, found himself excited by all this frenetic activity. It seemed as though they were suddenly at the heart of everything, the very focus of D'ni's vast enterprise. By the end of the third week the bulk of the great chamber had been part-cut, part-melted from the rock, a big stone burner—a machine of which all had heard but few had ever seen in action—making the rock drip from the walls like ice before a blowtorch. The chamber needed'supporting, of course. Twenty massive granite pillars supported the ceiling, but for the walls the usual method of spray-coating would not do. Huge slabs of nara the hardest of D'ni stones—a metallic greenish-black stone thirty times the density of steel—were brought up the line. Huge machines lifted the precast sections into place while others hammered in the securing rivets. A single one of those rivets was bigger than a man, and more than eight thousand were used in lining the mighty walls of the chamber, but eventually it was done. That evening, walking between the pillars in that vast chamber, beneath the stark, temporary lighting, Aitrus felt once again an immense pride in his people. Work was going on day and night now—though such terms, admittedly, had meaning only in terms of their waking or sleeping shifts—and a large number ofguildsmen had been shipped in from D'ni for the task. The first of the support tunnels, allowing them to bring in extra supplies from D'ni, had been cut, and more were being excavated. The noise of excavation in the rock was constant. To a young guildsman it was all quite fascinating. What had for so long been a simple exploratory excavation had now become a problem in logistics. A temporary camp had been set up at the western end of the chamber and it grew daily. There were not only guildsmen from the Guild of Surveyors here now but also from many other guilds—from the Guild of Miners, the Messengers, the Caterers, the Healers, the Mechanists, the Analysts, the Maintainers, and the Stone-Masons. There were even four members of the Guild of Artists, there to make preliminary sketches for a great painting of the works. Food, of course, could have been a problem with so many suddenly congregated there in the chamber, but the Guild of Caterers brought up two of their Books, linked to the great granary worlds of Er'Duna and Er'Jerah, and the many were fed. Not everything, however, was quite so simple. With the chamber cut and supported, they had begun to bring in the big cutting machines. For five full days the tunnels were closed to any other traffic as these huge, ancient mechanisms were brought up one by one from D'ni. Dismantled in the lower caverns ready for the journey, they were transported on massive half-tracked wagons and reassembled in the base chamber, beneath the eyes of the astonished young guildsmen. There were four of these machines in all, and with their arrival, there was a sense that history was being made. Only rarely was more than a single one of these monolithic cutters brought into use; to have all four at a single site was almost unprecedented. Not since the breakthrough to the lower caverns and the opening of the Tijali Mines, eighteen centuries before, had they been found together. The machines themselves were, in three of the four cases, much older than that. Old Stone Teeth, as it was known, was close on four thousand years old, while Rock-Biter and The Burrower were contemporaries at three thousand years-both having been built for the broadening of the Rudenna Passage. The youngest, however, was also the biggest, and had been fashioned especially for the opening of the new mines. This was Grinder, and it was to Grinder that Aitrus and the rest of the young explorers were assigned. Grinder arrived yi^ stages. First to arrive was the Operations Cabin-the "brain" of the beast-itself four times the size of one of the excavators. Yet this, as it turned out, was the least impressive of its parts-at least, physically. In the days that followed, two giant, jointed legs arrived, and then, in a convoy that took several hours to enter the great chamber, the eighteen sections that made up its massive trunk. Aitrus watched in amazement as trailer after trailer rolled in, filling the whole of the northern end of the chamber. Then, when he thought no more could possibly arrive, the cutting and grinding arms turned up-six massive half-tracks bearing the load. The job of reassembly could now begin. For much of the following weeks, the young guildsmen found themselves playing messenger for the thousands of other guildsmen who had suddenly appeared at the site-running about the great chamber, taking endless diagrams and maps and notes from guild to guild. The rest of the time they found themselves idle spectators as slowly the big machines took form. It was a lengthy and painstaking process. By the end of the third week, Grinder was complete. It crouched there, its matt black shape still and silent beneath the ceiling of the chamber, like some strange cross between a toad and a crab, its huge cutting arms lowered at its sides. Like all the great machines, it was constantly updated and modified, yet its outer form was ancient. Standing before it, Aitrus felt, for the first time in his life, how small he was compared to the ambitions of his race. Though the D'ni were long-lived, the rock in which trtey had their being was of an age that was difficult to comprehend; yet with the use of such machines they had challenged that ancient realm, wresting a living from its bare, inhospitable grip. Grinder was not simply a machine, it was a statement-a great shout into the rock. This was D'ni! Small, temporary creatures they might be, yet their defiance was godlike. Turning from it, Aitrus walked out across that vast, paved floor, stepping between the massive pillars that stretched up into the darkness, then stopped, looking about him. Grinder lay behind him now. The Burrower and Rock-Biter lav to his left, like huge black scarabs. Ahead of him was the dull red shape of Old Stone Teeth, squatting like a mantis between the pillars and the celling. As a child he had had an illustrated book about Old Stone Teeth, and he could vividly recall the pictures of the great machine as it leaned into the rock, powdered rock spraying from the great vent underneath it into a succession of trailers. And now, as an adult, he stood before it. Aitrus nodded to himself. It was only when you were up close to such machines that you could appreciate their true size and power. No illustration could possibly do justice to such machines. They were truly awesome. That night Aitrus barely slept. Soon it would begin, and he would live to see it! This was a tale to tell one's children and one's children's children: how, in the days of old, his people had cut their way up from the depths and made a great shaft that had reached up from the darkness to the light. The next morning Aitrus was up early, keen to start. But his masters were, as ever.-in no hurry. There were test boreholes to be drilled, and rock analyses to be made. For the next few days the Guild of Analysts took over, their temporary laboratories filling the center of the chamber, their "samplers"- a dozen small, bullet-shaped, autonomous drilling machines - boring their way into the rock overhead. For Aitrus the next few weeks were pure frustration. Much was done, yet there was still no word of when the main excavation would begin. Letters from home spoke of the excitement throughout D'ni, yet his own had waned. And he was not alone in feeling thus. Returning to the excavator after a day of running messages, Aitrus was about to pass the Guild Master's cabin when he noted Telanis seated at his desk, his head slumped forward, covered by his hands. A single sheet of paper was on the desk before him. "Master? Are you unwell?" Telanis looked up. He seemed tired, his eyes glazed and dull. "Come in and close the door, Aitrus." Aitrus did as he was told. "Now take a seat." Aitrus sat, concern growing in him. Telanis was looking at him now. "To answer your question, Aitrus, no, I am not unwell, at least, not physically. But to be true to the spirit of your question, yes. I feel an inner fatigue, a sense of..." "Disappointment?" Telanis's smile was weary. "I thought it would not concern me, Aitrus. I knew that at some stage the whole thing might be taken from my hands. After all, we are but servants of the Council. Yet I had not expected to feel so useless, so peripheral to events. Great things are happening, Aitrus. I had hoped ... well, that perhaps it would be we few who would be the ones to make the breakthrough." Aitrus stared at the Guild Master in astonishment. He had not even suspected that Telanis felt this way. "It seems we were merely the pathfinders, Aitrus. Yet I, for one, had grander visions of myself. Yes, and of you crewmen, too. I saw us as explorers." "And so we were. Master." "Yes, and now we are redundant. Our part in things is done." "So why do they not simply send us home to D'ni?" In answer Telanis handed him the paper. Aitrus quickly read it then looked up, surprised. "Then it is over." "Yes," Telanis said quietly, "but not until the day after the capping ceremony. They want us there for that. After all, it would hardly be right for us not to be there." The slight edge of bitterness in Telanis's voice again surprised Aitrus. He had always viewed Guild Master Telanis as a man wholly without desire; a loyal servant, happy to do whatever was required of him. This tiny fit of pique-if pique it was-seemed uncharacteristic. Yet Telanis clearly felt hurt at being brushed aside. "They will surely recognize your contribution, Guild Master." "Maybe so," Telanis answered distractedly, "but it will not be you and I, Aitrus, who step out onto the surface. That honor will be given to others." For a moment Telanrs was silent, staring down at the letter on the desk between them. Then he looked back at Aitrus. "Forgive me. I did not mean to unburden myself on you, Aitrus. Forget I ever said anything." Aitrus bowed his head. "As you wish." Yet as he stood, he felt compelled to say something more. "It was not your fault, Guild Master. You led us well. None of us will ever forget it." Telanis looked up, surprised, then looked back down again, a dark shadow appearing in his eyes. Clearly he was thinking of Efanis. "The excavation begins tomorrow. The capping ceremony will take place a week from now. Use the time well, Aitrus. Observe what you may. It may be some time before you return here." * * * The next morning the major excavation work began. First into action was Old Stone Tooth, the picture-book illustrations coming to life for Aitrus as he watched the huge jaws of the machine lean into the ceiling, gnawing hungrily at the dark surface, a great fall of fine-ground rock cascading from three vents in its long, segmented underside into a massive open trailer that squatted beneath the ancient machine, the gray-black heap in its giant hopper neither growing nor diminishing as the minutes passed. The noise was deafening. For three long hours it labored, its long legs slowly stretching, its shoulders gradually disappearing into the great hole It was making in the roof of the chamber. Finally, with a deafening hiss, the great hydraulic legs began to fold back down. It was Grinder's turn. As the grand old machine backed slowly into the shadows at the north end of the chamber, its massive chest stained black, its great cutting jaws still steaming. Grinder eased forward. As the huge machine hissed violently and settled into place beneath the hole, its maintenance crew hurried across, Aitrus among them, small half-tracks bringing up the six massive stone brackets that would secure Grinder to the floor of the chamber. In an hour it was ready. The crew moved back behind the barriers as the five-man special excavation team-their stature enlarged by the special black protective suits they wore- crossed the massive floor of the great chamber, then climbed the runged ladder that studded Grinder's huge curved back. Another five minutes and Grinder's great engines roared into life. Grinder raised itself on its mighty hydraulic legs, like a toad about to leap, its four circular, slablike grinding limbs lifted like a dancer's arms. Then, without warning, it elbowed its way into the rock. If Old Stone Tooth had been loud, the noise Grinder made was almost unbearable. Even through the thick protective helmet and ear-mufflers he was wearing, Aitrus found himself grimacing as the high-pitched whine seemed to reach right inside him. Slowly the jointed arms extended as the rock was worn away, until they formed a giant cross that seemed to be holding up the roof of the chamber even as it ground away at its edges. Reaching a certain^pbint it stopped and with a huge hiss of steam the arms retracted inward. The relief from that constant deafening noise was sweet, but it was brief. In less than a minute it started up again, as Grinder lifted slightly, repositioning its limbs, then began to cut another "step" just above the one it had already made. And so it went on, until the great hole Old Stone Tooth had made had been extended to form a massive vault. Not that it was finished even then: There was a great deal more rock to be cut from the walls before the shaft could be clad with nara and supported with cross-struts. Before Rock-Biter and The Burrower were brought in, they had first to build a platform two-thirds of the way up the partly completed shaft. Once that was in place. Old Stone Tooth and Grinder would be lifted up onto it by means of massive winches. And then it would begin again, the two main excavating machines taking turns carving out the main channel, while below them the two slightly smaller machines finished the job they had begun, polishing the shaft walls and cutting the steps that would spiral up the walls of the giant well. As guildsmen from the Guild of Engineers moved into place, ready to construct the platform, the young Surveyors began to drift away, their part in things finished for a time. Aitrus was the last to go, looking back over his shoulder as he went. Their camp was a long way down the line, and walking back, through node after node crammed with guild tents and equipment, past endless troops of guildsmen coming up from D'ni, and units of the City Guard, whose job it was to keep the traffic flowing down the tunnels, Aitrus found himself sharing Master Telanis's feeling of disappointment that things had been taken from their hands. In the face^ of such awesome preparations, he saw now just how peripheral they really were to all of this. Yes, and in six days they would be gone from here. Aitrus sighed. His fellow Surveyors were now some way ahead of him; the murmur of their talk, their brief but cheerful laughter, drifted back to him down the tunnel. They, he knew, were keen to go home. Whether it was they or someone else who made the breakthrough to the surface did not trouble them; at least, not as it troubled Master Telanis and himself. Yet Master Telanis was right. One ought to finish what one had begun. It seemed only fitting. And though their whole culture was one of finely drawn guild demarcations and task specialization, there had to be some areas in which pure, individual endeavor survived-and if not in the Guild of Surveyors, where else? Stepping out under the node-gate and onto the platform where their camp was situated, Aitrus looked across at the excavators where they were parked against the north wall and smiled fondly. He was almost of a mind to ask to serve on an excavator crew again. That was, if there wen to be any new explorations after this. Seeing Aitrus, Master Telanis summoned him across, then quickly took him into his cabin. He seemed strangely excited. "Aitrus," he said, even before Aitrus had had a chance to take his seat, "I have news that will cheer you greatly! The Council have reconsidered their decision. They have permitted a small contingent from the exploration team to accompany the Maintained for the breakthrough!" Aitrus grinned broadly. "Then we shall get to finish the job!" Telanis nodded. "I have chosen six guildsmen to accompany me. You, of course, shall be among their number." Aitrus bowed his head. "I do not know how to thank you, Guild Master." "Oh, do not thank me, Aitrus. Thank your friend Veovis. It seems it was his intervention that swayed them to reconsider.' "Veovis?" Aitrus shook his head in amazement. He had written to Veovis weeks back, thanking him for the gifts, but there had been nothing in his letter about the Council's decision. "I do not understand." Telanis sat, then took a letter from the side of his desk and handed it to Aitrus. "It appears that your friend and benefactor, Veovis, has been an active member of the Council these past two months, since his father's illness. It seems that he has the ear of several of the older members. His suggestion that a token body of men from the Guild of Surveyors should be included was apparently unopposed." Telanis smiled. "It seems we have much to thank him for." "I shall write again and thank him, Master." "There is no need for that," Telanis said, taking the letter back. "Veovis will be here in person, six days from now. Indeed, we are to be honored by the presence of the full Council for the capping ceremony. I am told that every last cook in D'ni has been engaged to prepare for the feast. It should be some occasion! And all from the seed of our little venture!" * * * The next few days passed swiftly, and on the evening of the sixth day, at the very hour that the Guild of Surveyors had estimated, the great shaft was completed, the last curved section of nara lining bolted into place, the eighty great ventilation fans, each blade of which was thrice the length of a man, switched on. It was an awesome sight. Standing on the floor of the great chamber, Aitrus felt a tiny thrill ripple through him. The great floor stretched away on all sides, its granite base paved now in marble, a giant mosaic depicting the city ofD'ni at its center, the whole surrounded by a mosaic hoop of bright blue rock that was meant to symbolize the outer world that surrounded their haven in the rock. Yet, marvelous as it was, the eyes did not dwell on that but were drawn upward by the great circle of the walls that climbed vertiginously on every side, the spiral of steps like a black thread winding its way toward the distant heights. Aitrus turned full circle, his mouth fallen open. It was said that some twenty thousand fire-marbles had been set into the walls. Each had been placed within a delicately sprung lamp that was agitated by the movement of the fans. As the great blades turned, the fire-marbles glowed with a fierce, pure light that filled the great well. He lowered his eyes and looked across. Already the Guild of Caterers was hard at work, whole troops of uniformed guildsmen carried into the chamber massive wooden tables that would seat twenty men to a side, while others tended the ovens that had been set up all along the southern wall, preparing for the great .feast that would take place the next day. Old Stone Tooth had been dismantled and shipped back down the line to D'ni two days back. Grinder had followed a day later. While the guildsmen set up the tables and began constructing the massive frames that would surround the central area where the feast was to be held, members of the Guild of Miners were busy dismantling Rock-Biter and Burrower on the far side of the great chamber. By tomorrow they, too, would be gone. Aitrus, freed from all official duties, spent his time wandering on the periphery of all this activity, watching what was happening and noting his observations in his notebook. He was watching a half-track arrive, laden high with fine linen and chairs, when two strangers approached. "Aitrus?" He turned. A tall, cloaked man was smiling at him. Just behind was a second, smaller man, his body partly hunched, his features hidden within the hood of his cloak. "Forgive me," said the taller of the two, "but you are Aitrus, no? I am Veovis. I am pleased to meet you again after all these years." Veovis was a head taller than Aitrus remembered him and broad at the shoulder. His face was handsome but in a rather stark and monumental manner-in that he was very much his father's son. As Aitrus shook the young Lord's hand, he was surprised by the smile on Veovis's lips, the unguarded look in his eyes. This seemed a very different person from the one he'd known at school all those years ago. "Lord Veovis," he said, stowing his notebook away. "It seems I have much to thank you for." "And D'ni has much to thank you for." Veovis smiled. "You and your fellow guildsmen, of course." He turned slightly, introducing his companion, who had now thrown back his hood. "This is my friend and chief adviser, Lianis. It was Lianis who first brought your papers on pyroclastic deposits to my attention." Aitrus looked to Lianis and nodded, surprised to find so ancient a fellow as Veovis's assistant. "Lianis was my father's adviser, and his father's before him. When my father fell ill, it was decided that I should keep him on as my adviser, so that I might benefit from his experience and wisdom." Veovis smiled. "And fortunately so, for he has kept me from many an error that my youth might otherwise have led me into." Aitrus nodded, then looked to Lianis. "My paper was but one of many submitted from the expedition. Master Lianis, and hardly original in its ideas. I am surprised it attracted your attention." Lianis, it seemed, had a face that did not ever smile. He stared back at Aitrus with a seriousness that seemed etched deep into the stone of his features. "Good work shines forth like a beacon, Guildsman. It is not necessarily the originality of a young man's work but the clarity of mind it reveals that is important. I merely marked a seriousness of intent in your writings and commented upon it to the young Lord's father. That is my task. I claim no credit for it." Aitrus smiled. "Even so, I thank you. Master Lianis, and you Lord Veovis. I have found good use of the equipment you were so kind in giving me." "And I am glad it has-found good use ... though I never doubted that for an instant." The two men met each other's eyes and smiled. "And now I am afraid I must go. My father's guildsmen await me. But I am glad I had a chance to speak with you, Aitrus. I fear there will be little time tomorrow. However, when you are back in D'ni you must come and visit me." Aitrus bowed his head. "My Lord." Veovis gave the faintest nod, then, with a glance at Lianis, the two walked on, their cloaked figures diminishing as they crossed the great floor. Aitrus stared a moment, then, with a strange sense of something having begun, took his notebook from his pocket and, turning to that day's entries, wrote simply: Met Veovis again. He has clanged. The man is not the child he was. He asked me to visit him in D'ni. He paused, then added. We shall see. Closing the book, he slipped it back into his pocket, then, turning on his heel, hurried across, heading for the bright circle of the exit tunnel. * * * The great feast to celebrate the cutting of the great shaft was almost over. Young guildsmen from the Guild of Artists looked on from the edge of events, hurriedly sketching the scene as the great men said their farewells to each other. It had been an extraordinary occasion, with speeches and poems in honor of this latest venture of the D'ni people. A year from now a whole series of new canvases and tapestries would hang in the corridors of the Guild House back in D'ni, capturing the occasion for posterity, but just now the Grand Masters talked of more mundane affairs. Matters of State stopped for no man and no occasion-even one so great as this-and there was ever much to be discussed. It was not often that one saw all eighteen major Guilds represented in a single place, and the colorful sight of their distinctive ceremonial cloaks-each Guild's color different, each cloak decorated with the symbols that specified the rank and status of the guildsman who wore it-gave Aitrus an almost childish delight. Such things he had only glimpsed in books before now. Aitrus's own cloak, like those of all young guildsmen without rank, had eight such symbols, four to each side, beneath the lapels, whereas those of the great Lords had but a single one. Looking on from where he sat on the far side of the feasting circle, Aitrus saw Veovis rise from his seat to greet one of the Great Lords, his friendly deference making the old man smile. Four of the Five were here today, the fifth - Veovis's father-being too ill to come. All eighteen of the Grand Masters were also here, to represent their guilds, along with several hundred of their most senior Masters, every one of them resplendent in their full Guild colors. To a young guildsman, they seemed an impressive host. Lord Tulla, it was said, was 287 years old, and his three companions-the Lords R'hira, Nehir, and Eneah -were all well into their third century. Veovis, by comparison, was a babe- a glint of sunlight against dark shadow. Lord Tulla, in particular, looked like,something carved, as if, in the extremity of age, he had become the rock in which he had lived all his life. One day, perhaps, Aitrus too might become a Grand Master, or perhaps even one of the Five, yet the road that led to such heights was long and hard, and some days he wondered if he had the temperament. If this expedition had proved one single thing to him it was that he was of essence a loner. He had thought, perhaps, that such close proximity to his fellows, day in, day out, might have brought him out of his shell-rounding off the hard edges of his nature-but it had not proved so. It was nor that he did not get on with his fellow cadets-he liked them well enough and they seemed to like him-it was simply, that he did not share their pursuits, their constant need for small distractions. You were born old, Aitrus, his mother had so often said. Too old and too serious. And it had worried him. But now he knew he could not change what he was. And others, Master Telanis among them, seemed to value that seriousness. They saw it not as a weakness but a strength. Even so, he wondered how well he would settle back into the life of the Guild House. It was not the work-the studying and practicals-that concerned him but the personal element. Watching the great men at the feast had reminded him of that, of the small, personal sacrifices one made to be a senior Guildsman. Given the choice, Aitrus would have spent his whole life exploring; drilling through the rock and surveying. But that, he understood, was a young man's job, and he would not be a young man all his life. In time he would be asked to take charge; of small projects at first, but then steadily larger and larger tasks, and in so doing he would have to deal not with the dynamics of rock-the certainties of weight and form and pressure-but with the vagaries and inconsistencies of personality. He looked across, catching Telanis's eye. The Guild Master smiled and raised the silver goblet he was holding in a toast. Aitrus raised his own uncertainly but did not sip. Many of his companions were drunk, but he had not touched even a drain of the strong wine he had been served. Indeed, if the choice had been given him, he would have left an hour back, after the last speech, but it was not deemed polite for any of them to leave before their Masters. And so they sat, amid the ruins of the feast, looking on as the old men went from table to table. "Look!" someone whispered to Aitrus's right. "The young Lord is coming over here!" Aitrus looked up to see Veovis making his way across. Seeing Aitrus, Veovis smiled, then turned to address Telanis. "Master Telanis, might I have a word in private with Guildsman Aitrus?" "Of course," Telanis answered, giving the slightest bow of respect. Aitrus, embarrassed by the sudden attention, rose and made his way around the table to where Veovis stood. "Forgive me, Aitrus," Veovis began, keeping his voice low. "Once more I must rush off. But Lord Tulla has given me permission to stay on an extra day. I thought we might talk. Tomorrow, after the breaching." The "breaching" was a small ceremony to mark the commencement of the breakthrough tunnel. Aitrus nodded. "I'd welcome that." "Good." Briefly Veovis held his arm, then, as if he understood Aitrus's embarrassment, let his hand fall away. "Tomorrow, then." * * * That evening they winched the excavator up onto the platform at the very top of the great shaft. Aitrus, standing beside Master Telanis, watched as it was lowered onto the metal grid, feeling an immense pride at the sight of the craft. Its usefulness as a cutter was marginal now-other machines, much larger and more efficient were already in place, ready to cut the final tunnel from the rock-yet it would serve as their quarters in this final leg of their journey. Earlier, Master Telanis had given a moving speech as he said farewell to those cadets who would be returning to D'ni in the morning. Only Master Geran, Aitrus, and five others remained; their sole task now to represent their Guild when finally they broke through to the surface. "How long will it take?" he asked, looking to Telanis. The Guild Master's attention was on the excavator, as strange hands removed the winch chains and began to lift the craft so they could extricate the great cradle from beneath it. His eyes never leaving that delicate task, Telanis, answered Aitrus quietly. "A week. Maybe less. Why? Are you impatient, Aitrus?" "No, Master." "Good. Because I would hate you to be disappointed." "I do not understand. Master." Telanis glanced at him. "The tunnel will be cut. But whether we shall ever step out onto the surface is another matter. There will be one final meeting of the Council to decide that." Aitrus felt a strange disturbance-a feeling almost of giddiness-at the thought of coming so close and never actually stepping out onto the surface of the world. "1 thought it had been decided." Telanis nodded vaguely. "So did I. Yet it is an important matter-perhaps the most important they have had to debate for many centuries. If they are wrong, then D'ni itself might suffer. And so the Council deliberate until the last. Why, even today, at the feast, they were still discussing it even as they congratulated one another!" "And if they decide not to?" Telanis turned and met his eyes. "Then we go home, Aitrus." "And the tunnel?" "Will be sealed. At least, this top part of it. It is unlikely that the surface -dwellers have the technology to drill down into the shaft, even if they were to locate it." "I see." "No, Aitrus. Neither you nor I see, not as the Great Lords see. Yet when their final word comes, whatever it may be, we shall do as they instruct." "And what do you think, Master? Do you think they will let us contact the surface-dwellers?" Telanis laughed quietly. "If I knew that, Aitrus, I would be a Great Lord myself." * * * That night Aitrus woke to find the platform trembling, as if a giant gong had been struck in the depths. All about him people slept on drunkenly, unaware of the faint tremor. After a while it subsided and the platform was still again. For a moment Aitrus wondered if he had imagined it, but then it came again, stronger this time, almost audible. Aitrus shrugged off his blanket and stood, then walked across until he stood close to the edge of the great drop. The whole shaft was vibrating, and now there was the faintest hum-a deep bass note-underlying everything. For close on three months, the earth had been silent. Now, even as they prepared to leave it, it had awoken once again. Aitrus turned, looking back to where the guildsmen were encamped beside the excavator, but they slept on, in a dead sleep after the feast. He alone was awake. Hurrying across, he bent down beside Master Geran and gently shook him. At first the old man did not wake, but then his blind eyes flicked open. "Aitrus?" Aitrus did not know how the old man did it, but his senses were infallible. "There's movement," he said quietly. "The shaft was vibrating like a great hollow pipe." Master Geran sat up, then turned to face the center of the tunnel. For a moment he was perfectly still, then he looked up at Aitrus again. "Help me up, boy." Aitrus leaned down, helping him up. "How many times?" Geran asked as he shuffled over to the edge of the shaft. "Three so far. That is, if the one that woke me was the first." Geran nodded, then dropped into a crouch, the fingertips of his right hand brushing gently against the surface of the platform. For two, maybe three minutes they waited, Aitrus standing there at his side, and then it came again, stronger-much stronger-this time and more prolonged. When it had subsided, Geran stood and shook his head. "It's hard to tell the direction of it. The shaft channels its energy. But it was powerful, Aitrus. I wonder why I was not woken by it." Aitrus looked down, a faint smile on his lips, but said nothing. He had seen how much of the strong D'ni wine Master Geran had drunk. The only real surprise was that he had woken when Aitrus had shaken him. "Should we wake the others. Master?" he asked. But Geran shook his head. "No. We shall leave it for now. The final survey will show whether there is any risk. Personally I doubt it. We have come far to the north of the isopaches we identified earlier. If there is any volcanic activity, it is far from here. What we are hearing are merely echoes in the rock, Aitrus. Impressive, yes, but not harmful." Geran smiled, then pitted his arm. "So get some sleep, eh, lad? Tomorrow will be a long day." * * * Reassured by Master Geran, Aitrus settled back beneath his blanket and was soon asleep once more. If the ground shook, he did not notice it. Indeed, he was the last to wake. Master Telanis's hand on his shoulder, shaking him, returning him from the dark stupor into which he seemed to have descended. "Come, Aitrus. Wash now and get dressed. The ceremony is in half an hour!" They lined up before the cutter, alongside men from the Guild of Maintainers, whose task it would be to oversee this final stage of the journey to the surface. The Maintainers were one of the oldest guilds, and certainly one of the most important, their Grand Masters- alongside those of the Guild of Writers, the Miners, the Guild of Books and the Ink-Makers-becoming in time the Lords of D'ni, members of the Five. Yet this was a strange and perhaps unique task for them, for normally their job was to ensure that the D'ni Books were kept in order, the Ages correctly run, and that the long-established laws, laid down countless generations before, were carried out to the letter. They had little to do with excavations and the cutting of tunnels. Indeed, guilds-men from some of the more physical guilds-those who dealt constantly with earth and rock and stone-would, in the privacy of their own Guild Halls, speak quietly of them, in a derogatory fashion, as "clean-handed fellows." Yet these guildsmen had been specially trained for this purpose'and had among their number guildsmen drafted in from the Guild of Miners, and from the Surveyors. They now would carry out the final excavation, and if any surface dwellers were found, it would be the Maintainers who would first establish contact, for this was a most delicate matter and it was held that only the Maintainers could be vouchsafed to undertake that task properly. Few of the Guild Masters who had been at the feast the day before had remained for this final little ceremony; yet in the small group who now stepped forward were no less than two of the Great Lords, Lord Tulla and Lord Eneah. Standing just behind them, among a group of five Grand Masters, was Veovis. Lord Tulla said a few words, then stepped forward, pulling down the lever that would set the great cutter in motion. As he did, Veovis looked across at Aitrus and gave the tiniest nod. Were these, Aitrus wondered, the faction in the Council who were in favor of making contact with the surface-dwellers? Or was that a misreading of things? Had the rest, perhaps, simply been too busy to attend? As Lord Tulla stepped back, the engines of the cutter thundered into life and the circular blade began to spin, slowly at first, then, as it nudged the rock, with increasing speed. The simple ceremony was concluded. The great men turned away, ready to depart. At a signal from Master Telanis, the Surveyors fell out. Aitrus could see that Veovis was busy, talking to the Grand Master of the Guild of Messengers. Content to wait, he watched the machine, remembering the noises in the night. Master Geran had been up early, he had been told, making pgy survey of the rock through which this final tunnel was to be due. His soundings had shown nothing unusual, and the vibrations in the earth had ceased. Both Geran and Telanis were of the opinion that the quakes had not been serious, but were only the settlement of old faults. Aitrus himself had not been quire so sure, but had bowed to their experience. "Aitrus?" He turned, facing Veovis. The young Lord smiled apologetically. "You must forgive me, Aitrus. Once again I must be elsewhere. But I shall return, this evening, after I have seen Lord Tulla off. I did not thinK he would stay for the ceremony, but he wished to be here." "I understand." "Good." And without further word, Veovis turned and hurried across to where Lord Tulla was waiting. Aitrus watched the party step into the special carriage that had been set up on a temporary track down the wall of the shaft, then stepped up to the edge, following its progress down that great well until it was lost to sight. It was strange. The more Veovis delayed their talk, the more uncomfortable Aitrus found himself at the thought of it. Veovis wanted to be his friend, it seemed. But why? It made little sense to him. Surely Veovis had friends enough of his own? And even if that were not so, why him? Why not someone more suited to his social role? Perhaps it would all come clear. Yet he doubted it. The rock was predictable. It had its moods, yet it could be read, its actions foreseen. But who could say as much of a man? Aitrus turned, looking back across the platform. Already the cutter was deep in the rock, like a weevil burrowing its way into a log. Crouching, he got out his notebook and, opening it, laid it on his knee, looking about him, his eyes taking in every detail of the scene. This evening, he thought. Then, dismissing it from his mind, he began to sketch. * * * Aitrus was reaching up, his hands blindly feeling for the scales, when the shock wave struck. He was thrown forward, his forehead smacking against the bulkhead as the whole craft seemed to be picked up and rolled over onto its side. For five long seconds the excavator shook, a great sound of rending and tearing filling the air. And then silence. Struggling up, Aitrus put a hand to his brow and felt blood. Outside, on the platform, a siren was sounding. For a moment the lights in the craft flickered dimly, then the override switched in and the emergency lighting came on. In its sudden light, he could see that the excavator had been completely overturned. It lay now on its back. Pulling himself hand by hand along the tilted corridor, he climbed out onto the side of the craft and looked about him. Guildsmen were running about, shouting urgently to one another. On the far side ot the platform a huge section of the metal grid had buckled and slipped from its supports and now hung dangerously over the shaft. Behind it a dark line snaked up the wall of the shaft. Aitrus's mouth fell of&n in surprise. The shaft was breached! The nara stone torn sheet from sheet! The quake must have been directly beneath them. Looking across, he saw that the mouth of the new tunnel was cracked. A large chunk of rock had fallen from the arch and now partly blocked the tunnel. The cutter, deep inside the tunnel, was trapped. As he stood there, Master Telanis came over to him and, grasping his arm, turned Aitrus to face him. "Aitrus! Get on protective gear at once, then report back to me. We must secure this area as soon as possible. If there's another quake, the platform could collapse." Too shocked to speak, Aitrus nodded, then ducked back inside, making his way to the equipment room. In a minute he was back, two spare canisters of air and a breathing helmet lugged behind him. If the air supply to the shaft had been breached, breathing might soon become a problem, particularly if any of the great ventilation fans had been damaged. Seeing him emerge, Telanis beckoned him across. Several of the guildsmen were already gathered about him, but of Master Geran there was no sign. Calmly, the simple sound of his voice enough to steady the frayed nerves of the young men, Master Telanis organized them: sending some to bring powerdrills, others to sort out protective clothing. Finally, he turned, looking to Aitrus. "Master Geran has gone, Aitrus," he said quietly. "He was standing near the edge when it hit. I saw him go over." The news came like a physical blow. Aitrus gave a tiny cry of pain. "I know," Telanis said, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. "But we must look after the living now. We do not know the fate of the cutter's crew yet. And there were Maintainers with them. If the tunnel came down on them we may have to try to dig them out." Aitrus nodded, but he was feeling numb now. Geran gone. It did not seem possible. "What should I do?" he said, trying to keep himself from switching off. "I have a special task for you, Aitrus. One that will require an immense amount of courage. I want you to go down and make contact with whoever is in the lower chamber. I want you to let them know how things are up here: that the shaft wall is cracked, the cutting team trapped. And if they can send help, then I want it sent as soon as possible. You have that, Aitrus?" "Master." But for a moment he simply stood there, frozen to the spot. "Well, Aitrus?" Telanis coaxed gently. The words released him. Strapping one of the cylinders to his back, he pulled on the helmet, then hurried across to the head of the steps. They were blocked. A great sheet ofnara had fallen across the entrance. He would have to find another way down. He went back to where the temporary track began. With the steps blocked, there was only one way down, and that was to climb down the track, hand over hand, until he reached the bottom. For a moment he hesitated, then, swinging out over the gap, he grabbed hold of the metal maintenance ladder that ran between the broad rails pfthe track. Briefly his eye went to the metal clip at the neck of his uniform. If another big quake struck, he would have to clip himself to the ladder and pray it did not come away from the shaft wall. And if it did? Aitrus pushed the thought away and, concentrating on the task at hand, began the descent. * * * Aitrus was almost halfway down when the second quake struck. Clipping himself to the metal strut, he locked both arms about the ladder, then dug his toes into the gap between the rung and the wall. This time it went on and on, the whole shaft shaking like a giant organ pipe, things falling from the platform overhead. The metal track beside him groaned and for a while he thought it was going to prize itself from the wall as the metal studs strained to come away from the rock-if he wasn't shaken from the ladder first! How long it was he could not tell, but it seemed a small eternity before, with an echoing fall, the shaking stopped. The sudden silence was eerie. And then something clattered onto the marble far below. Aitrus opened his eyes. Across from him the shaft wall gaped. Cracks were everywhere now. The great molded sections were untouched, yet there were huge gaps between them now, as if the tunnel wall behind them had slipped backward. The outer wall of the spiral steps had fallen away in many places, and several of the huge securing rivets had jiggled tneir way out of the rock. The sight made his stomach fall away. It had all seemed so sound, so permanent, yet one more quake and the whole shaft could easily collapse in upon itself. Unclipping himself, Aitrus resumed his descent, ignoring the aches in his calves and shoulders, pushing himself now, knowing that time was against him. But he had not gone far when he stopped dead. There had been a shout, just below him. He leaned out, trying to see where it had come from, and at once caught sight of the carriage. Some forty, maybe fifty spans below him, the track bulged away from the shaft wall, pulled outward by the weight of the carriage. As Aitrus stared, the shout came again. A cry for help. "Hold on!" he shouted back. "Hold on, I'm coming!" The floor of the shaft was still a good five hundred spans below, and looking at the way the track was pulled away from the wall, he knew he would have to climb along the track and over the top of the carriage if he was to help. A length of rope would have come in handy, but he had none. All he had was a canister of air. Making sure his grip on the ladder was good, Aitrus reached across and grabbed hold of the rail. Just below where he had hold of it, the bolts that had pinned the track to the shaft wall had been pulled out. The question was: Would his extra weight bring a further length of track away from the wall and send the carriage tumbling down to the foot of the great shaft? He would have to take a chance. The outer edge of the track was grooved to match the teeth in the track that ran up one side of the carriage. The great euide wire that ran through the carriage had snapped, so that tooth-and-groove connection was all that prevented the carriage from falling. If that went... There was the faintest rumble, deep in the earth. Things fell with a distant clatter onto the marbled floor below. The metal of the carriage groaned. Now, he told himself. Now, before there's another quake. Counting to five, he swung over onto the track, his fingers wrapped about the toothlike indentations in the rail, then he began to edge backward and down, his feet dangling over the abyss. The track creaked and groaned but did not give. He moved his hands, sliding them slowly along the rail, left hand then right, his eyes all the while staring at the wall just above him, praying the bolts would hold. And then his toes brushed against the roof of the carriage. He swallowed deeply, then found his voice again. "Are you all right?" There was a moment's silence, then, in what was almost a whisper. "I'm badly hurt. I've stopped the bleeding, but..." Aitrus blinked. That voice. "Veovis?" There was a groan. It was Veovis. He was certain of it. "Hold on," Aitrus said. "It won't be long now." There was a hatch underneath the carriage. If he could climb beneath it and get into it that way, there was much less chance of him pulling the carriage off its guide track. Yes, but how would he reach the hatch? And what if he could not free the lock? No. This once he had to be direct. He would have to climb over the top of the carriage and lower himself in, praying that the track would bear the extra weight. Slowly Aitrus lowered himself onto the roof, prepared at any moment for the whole thing to give. He was breathing quickly now, the blood pounding in his ears. The straps from the cylinder were beginning to cut into his shoulders and for a moment he wondered if he should slip it off, together with the helmet, and let it fall, but it seemed too much effort. If he was going to die, the cylinder would make no difference. Besides, he was almost there now. He had only to slip his legs down over the edge of the roof and lower himself inside. It was easier said than done. With his legs dangling out over the roof, he realized that he was just as likely to fall out into the shaft as he was to slip inside, into the relative safety of the carriage. Yet even as he thought it, he lost his grip and slipped. With a cry, he reached out and caught hold of the metal bar above the carriage door. His whole body was twisted violently about and then slammed against the side of the carriage. The pain took his breath for a moment. For a full second his feet kicked out over the gap as he struggled to hold on. Then, with a grunt of effort, he swung himself inside. The carriage creaked and groaned as it swung with him. There was the sound of bolts tearing from the wall. One by one they gave with a sharp pinging sound. With a sudden jolt the carriage dropped, throwing Aitrus from his feet, then, with another jolt, it held. Aitrus lay on his back, the cylinder wedged under him. He felt bruised all over, but he was alive. Turning his head, he looked across the narrow floor of the carriage. Veovis lay there, not an arm's length from him, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. His flesh, which had seemed pale before, was now ash white, as if there were no life in him. Moving slowly, carefully, Aitrus got himself up into a sitting position, then edged across to where Veovis lay. Veovis looked badly hurt. There was a large bruise at his temple, and blood had seeped through the makeshift bandage he had wrapped about his upper arm, but that would have to wait. His breathing had become erratic. Even as Aitrus leaned over him to listen to his chest, Veovis's breath caught and stopped. For a moment Aitrus wasn't sure. Then, knowing that every second counted, he reached behind him and pulled the cylinder up over his head, laying it down at Veovis's side before removing his helmet. Precious seconds were wasted making sure the airflow was working properly; then, satisfied, he lifted Veovis's head and slipped the helmet on, before rolling him over onto his back. The carriage swayed then settled. Nothing was happening ... Aitrus blinked, then felt down at the wrist for a pulse. Veovis's heart had stopped. Leaning over him, Aitrus pressed into his chest, leaned back, then pressed again. Veovis groaned, then sucked in air. Aitrus sat back, knowing that he had done as much as he could. Veovis was in no condition to help himself, and on his own, Aitrus knew that he would not be able to lift the deadweight of Veovis out of the carriage and back down to the floor of the shaft. There was a faint rumble. Again the carriage shook. Slowly the rumbling grew, stronger and stronger until Aitrus was sure that the carriage would shake itself free from the restraining track. Slowly the light faded, as if a great shadow had formed about them. Then, with a sound of rending metal, the carriage was torn from the track. It tilted sharply forward. Aitrus caught his breath, waiting for the fall, but the carriage had stopped in midair. Slowly, the walls on either side of him began to buckle inward. "Noooo-oh!" The buckling stopped. With a hiss of hydraulics the carriage jerked forward, then began slowly to descend with a strange Jogging motion. Aitrus began to laugh. Relief flooded him. It was a cutter. A cutter had climbed the shaft walls and plucked them from the track. Now, holding them between its cutting arms, it was slowly carrying them down. Aitrus leaned across, checking that Veovis was breathing steadily, then sat back, closing his eyes, his head resting against the buckled wall. Safe. * * * The Council ordered the shaft repaired, the top tunnel completed, and then they sealed it. There was to be no break through, no meeting with the surface -dwellers. That was decided within the first ten minutes of the meeting. Whether the auakes had happened or not, they would have decided thus, But there was the matter of D'ni pride, D'ni expertise to be addressed, hence the repairs, the drive toward completion. It would not be said that they had failed. No. The D'ni did not fail. Once they had decided upon a course of action, they would carry it through. That was the D'ni way, and had been for a thousand generations. In the future, perhaps, when circumstances differed, or the mood of the Council had changed, the tunnel might be unsealed, a form of contact established, but for now that was not to be. And so the adventure ended. Yet life went on. * * * It was two weeks after the Council's decision, and Aitrus was sitting in the garden on K'veer, the island mansion owned by Lord Rakeri situated to the south of the great cavern of D'ni. Rakeri's son, the young Lord Veovis, was lounging on a chair nearby, recuperating, his shoulder heavily bandaged, the bruising to his head still evident. The two young men had been talking, but were quiet now, thoughtful. Eventually, Aitrus looked up and shook his head. "Your father's offer is kind, Veovis, and well meant, yet I cannot accept it. He says he feels a debt of gratitude to me for saving your life, yet I did only what any other man would have done. Besides, I wish to make my own way in the world. To win honor by my own endeavors." Veovis smiled. "I understand that fully, Aitrus, and it does you credit. And if it helps make things easier, I, too, would have turned down my father's offer, though be sure you never tell him that." Aitrus made to speak, but Veovis raised a hand. "However," he went on, "I owe you a debt, whatever you may say about this mythical 'anyman' who might or might not have helped me. Whether that is so or not, you did help me. And for that I shall remain eternally grateful. Oh, I shall not embarrass you with gifts or offers of patronage, dear friend, but let me make it clear, if there is ever anything you want- anything-that is in my power to grant you, then come to me and I shall grant it. There, that is my last word on it! Now we are even. Now we can both relax and feel less awkward with each other, eh?" Aitrus smiled. "You felt it, too?" "Yes. Though I don't know which is harder, owing a life or being owed one." "Then let us do as you say. Let us be friends without obligations." "Yes," Veovis said, rising awkwardly from his chair to grasp both of Aitrus's hands in his own in the D'ni fashion. "Friends, eh?" "Friends," Aitrus agreed, smiling back at the young Lord, "until the last stone is dust." PART TWO OF STONE AND DUST AND ASHES Anna stood at the center of the strange circle of rock and dust and looked about her, her eyes half-hdded. She was a tall, rather slender girl of eighteen years, and she wore her long auburn hair, which had been bleached almost blond by the sun, tied back in a plait at her neck. Like her father, she was dressed in a long black desert cloak, hemmed in red with a broad leather tool belt at the waist. On her back was a leather knapsack, on her feet stout leather boots. Her father was to the left of her, slowly walking the circle's edge, the wide -brimmed hat he wore to keep off the sun was pulled back, a look of puzzlement on his face. They had discovered the circle the previous day, on the way back from a survey of a sector of the desert southwest of the dormant volcano. "Well?" she asked, turning to him. "What is it?" "I don't know," he answered, his voice husky. "Either someone spent an age constructing this, sorting and grading the stones by size then laying them out in perfect circles, or ..." "Or what?" He shook his head. "Or someone shook the earth, like a giant sieve." He laughed. "From below, I mean." "So what did cause it?" "I don't know," he said again. "I really don't. I've never seen anything like it in over fifty years of surveying, and I've seen a lot of strange things." She walked over to him, counting each step, then made a quick calculation in her head. "It's eighty paces in diameter, so that's close on eight hundred square feet," she said. "I'd say that's much too big to have been made." "Unless you had a whole tribe working at it." "Yes, but it looks natural. It looks ... well, I imagine that from above it would look like a giant drop of water had fallen from the sky." "Or that sieve of mine." He narrowed his eyes and crouched a moment, studying the pattern of stones by his feet, then shook his head again. "Vibrations," he said quietly. "Vibrations deep in the earth." "Volcanic?" "No." He looked up at his daughter. "No, this was no quake. Quakes crack stone, or shatter it, or deposit it. They don't grade it and sort it." "You're looking tired," she said after a moment. "Do you want to rest a while?" She did not usually comment on how he looked, yet there was an edge of concern in her voice. Of late he had tired easily. He seemed to have lost much of the vigor he had had of old. He did not answer her. Not that she expected him to. He was never one for small talk. Anna looked about her once more. "How long do you think it's been here?" "It's sheltered here," he said after a moment, his eyes taking in every detail of his surroundings. "There's not much sand drift. But judging by' what there is, I'd say it's been here quite a while. Fifty years, perhaps?" Anna nodded. Normally she would have taken samples, yet it was not the rocks themselves but the way they were laid out that was different here. She went over to her father. "I think we should go back. We could come here tomorrow, early." He nodded. "Okay. Let's do that. I could do with a long, cool soak." "And strawberries and cream, too, no doubt?" "Yes, and a large glass of brandy to finish with!" They both laughed. "I'll see what I can rustle up." * * * The Lodge had been named by her father in a moment of good humor, not after the hunting lodge in which he had spent his own childhood, back in Europe, but because it was lodged into a shelf between the rock wall and the shelf below. A narrow stone bridge-hand-cut by her father some fifteen years ago, when Anna was barely three-linked it to the rest of the rocky outcrop, traversing a broad chasm that in places was close to sixty feet deep. The outer walls of the Lodge were also of hand-cut stone, their polished surfaces laid flush. A small, beautifully carved wooden door, set deep within the white stone at the end of the narrow bridge, opened onto a long, low -ceilinged room that had been hewn from the rock. Four additional rooms led off from that long roorrfc three to the right, which they used as living quarters, and another, their laboratory and workshop, to the left. Following him inside, she helped him down onto the great sofa at the end of the room, then ducked under the narrow stone lintel into the galley-kitchen at the front. A moment later she returned, a stone tumbler of cold water held out to him. "No, Anna. That's too extravagant!" "Drink it," she said insistently. "I'll make a special journey to the pool tonight." He hesitated, then, with a frown of self-disapproval, slowly gulped it down. Anna, watching him, saw suddenly how pained he was, how close to exhaustion, and wondered how long he had struggled on like this without saying anything to her. "You'll rest tomorrow," she said, her voice brooking no argument. "I can continue with the survey on my own." She could see he didn't like the idea; nonetheless, he nodded. "And the report?" "If the report's late, it's late," she said tetchily. He turned his head, looking at her. "I gave my word." "You're ill. He'll understand. People are ill." "Yes, and people starve. It's a hard world, Anna." "Maybe so. But we'll survive. And you are ill. Look at you. You need rest." He sighed. "Okay. But a day. That's all." "Good. Now let's get you to your bed. I'll wake you later for supper." * * * It was dark when she heard him wake. She had been sitting there, watching the slow, inexorable movement of the stars through the tiny square of window. Turning, she looked through to where he lay, a shadow among the shadows of the inner room. "How are you feeling now?" "A little better. Not so tired anyway." Anna stood, walked over to where the pitcher rested in its carved niche, beside the marble slab on which she prepared all their meals, and poured him a second tumbler of cold water. She had climbed down to the pool at the bottom of the chasm earlier, while he slept, and brought two pitchers back, strapped to her back, their tops stoppered to prevent them from leaking as she climbed the tricky rock face. It would last them several days if they were careful. He sipped eagerly as she held the tumbler to his lips, then sank back onto his pallet bed. "I was dreaming," he said. "Were you?" "Of mother. I was thinking how much you've come to look like her." She did not answer him. Six years had passed, but still the subject was too raw in her memory to speak of. "I was thinking I might stay here tomorrow," she said, after a moment. "Finish those experiments you began last week." "Uhuh?" "I thought... well, I thought I could be on hand then, if you needed me." "I'll be okay. It's only tiredness." "I know,but..." "If you want to stay, stay." "And the experiments?" "You know what you're doing, Anna. You know almost as much as I do now." "Never," she said, smiling across at him. The silence stretched on. After a while she could hear his soft snoring fill the darkened room. She moved back, into the kitchen. The moon had risen. She could see it low in the sky through the window. Setting the tumbler down, Anna sat on the stone ledge of the window and looked out across the desert. What if it wasn't simple tiredness? What if he was ill? It was more than a hundred miles to Tadjinar. If her father was ill, there was no wav they would make it there across the desert, even if she laid him on the cart. Not in the summer's heat. She would have to tend him here, using what they had. Her head had fallen at the thought. She lifted it now. It was no good moping. Flowers. She would paint him some flowers and place the canvas in the doorway so he would see them when he woke in the morning. The idea of it galvanized her. She got up and went through to the workroom, lighting the oil lamp with her father's tin-derbox and setting it down on the stone tabletop on the far side of the room. Then, humming softly to herself, she took her mother's paintbox down from the shelf and, clearing a space for herself, began. * * * Anna? "Yes, father?" What do you sec? "I see ..." Anna paused, the familiar litany broken momentarily as, shielding her eyes, she looked out over the dusty plain from the granite outcrop she stood upon. She had been up since before dawn, mapping the area, extending her father's survey of this dry and forlorn land, but it was late morning now and the heat had become oppressive. She could feel it burning through the hood she wore. She looked down, murmuring her answer. "I see stone and dust and ashes." It was how he had taught her. Question and answer, all day and every day; forcing her to look, to focus on what was in front other. Yes, and to make those fine distinctions between things that were the basis of all knowledge. But today she found herself stretched thin. She did not want to focus. Closing the notebook, she slipped the pencil back into its slot, then crouched, stowing the notebook and her father's compass into her knapsack. A whole week had passed, and still he had not risen from his bed. For several nights he had been delirious, and she had knelt beside him in the wavering lamplight, a bowl of precious water at her side as she bathed his brow. The fever had eventually broken, but it had left theih both exhausted. For a whole day she had slept and had woken full of hope, but her father seemed little better. The fever had come and gone, but it had left him hollowed, his face gaunt, his breathing ragged. She had tried to feed him and look after him, but in truth there seemed little she could do but wait. And when waiting became too much for her, she had come out here, to try to do something useful. But her heart was not in it. The Lodge was not far away, less than a mile, in fact, which was why she had chosen that location, but the walk back was tiring under the blazing desert sun. As she climbed up onto the ridge overlooking the Lodge, she found herself suddenly fearful. She had not meant to be gone so long. What if he had needed her? What if he had called out to her and she had not been there? She hurried down the slope, that unreasonable fear growing in her, becoming almost a certainty as she ran across the narrow bridge and ducked inside into the cool darkness. "Father?" The pallet bed was empty. She stood in the low doorway, breathing heavily, sweat beading her brow and neck and tricls-ling down her back. She turned, looking out through the window at the desert. What if he'd gone out looking for her? She hurried through, anxious now, then stopped, hearing a noise, off to her right. "Father?" As she entered the workroom, he looked around and smiled at her. He was sitting at the long workbench that ran the full length of the rooJrt; one of his big, leather-bound notebooks open in front of him. "This is good, Anna," he said without preamble. "Amanjira will be pleased. The yields are high." She did not answer. Her relief at seeing him up and well robbed her of words. For a moment she had thought the very worst. He had the faintest smile on his lips now, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Anna wanted to go across to him and hug him, but she knew that was not his way. His love for her was distant, stern, like an eagle's love for its chicks. It was the only way they had survived out here without her mother. "Anna?" "Yes?" "Thank you for the painting. How did you know?" "Know what?" "That those flowers were my favorites." She smiled, but found she could not say the words aloud. Because my mother told me. * * * He continued to improve the next few days, doing a little more each day, until, a week after he'd got up from his bed, he came out from the workroom and handed Anna the finished report. "There," he said. "Take that to Amanjira. It's not precisely what he asked for, but he'll welcome it all the same." She stared at the document, then back at her father. "I can't." "Why not?" "You're not strong enough yet. The journey 'would exhaust you." "Which is why I'm not going. You know the way. You can manage the cart on your own, can't you?" Anna shook her head. She could, of course, but that wasn't what she meant. "I can't leave you. Not yet." , He smiled. "Of course you can. I can cook. And I don't need much water. Two pitchers should see me through until you return." "But..." "No buts, Anna. If Amanjira doesn't get that report, we don't get paid. And who'll pay the traders then? Besides, there are things we need in Tadjinar. I've made a list." Anna stared at him a moment, seeing how determined he was in this. "When do you want me to go?" "This evening, immediately after sundown. You should reach the old volcano before dawn. You could take shelter in the cleft there. Sleep until the evening." It was what they always did, yet in reiterating it like this it almost seemed as if he were coming with her. "Aren't you worried?" "Of course I am," he answered. "But you're a tough one, Anna. I always said you were. Just don't let those merchants in Jaarnindu Market cheat you." She smiled at that. They were always trying to cheat them. "I'll fill the pitchers, then." He nodded, and without another word returned inside. "To Tadjinar, then," she said quietly, looking down at the report in her hands. "Let's hope Lord Amanjira is as welcoming as my father thinks he'll be." * * * Amanjira was in good humor. He beamed a great smile at Anna, gestured toward the low chair that rested against the wall on one side of the great room, then he returned to his desk and sat, opening her father's report. As Amanjira leaned forward, his dark eyes poring over the various maps and diagrams, Anna took the chance to look about her. This was the first time she had been inside the great man's house. Usually her father came here while she stayed at the lodging house in the old town. The room was luxuriously decorated in white, cream, reds, and pinks. Bright sunlight filled the room, flooding in through a big, glass-paneled door that opened out onto a balcony. There was a thick rug on the floor and silk tapestries on the wall. And on the wall behind Amanjira was a portrait of the Emperor, given to him by the Emperor himself. Everything there spoke of immense wealth. Anna looked back at the man himself. Like herself, Amanjira was a stranger in this land, a trader from the east who had settled many years ago. Now he was one of the most important men in the empire. Amanjira's skin was as dark as night, so black it was almost blue, yet his features had a strangely Western cast; a well-fleshed softness that was very different from the hawkish look of these desert people. As if a dove had flown into a nest of falcons. But looks deceived sometimes. This dove had claws. Yes, and a wingspan that stretched from coast to coast of this dry and sandy land. Amanjira made a tiny noise-a grunt of satisfaction- then looked across at her, nodding to himself. "This is excellent. Your father has excelled himself, Anna." She waited, wondering what he would say next; what he would give her for this information. "I shall instruct the steward to pay you in full, Anna. And tell your father that, if his findings prove correct, I shall reward him with a bonus." She lowered her head, surprised. So far as she knew, Amanjira had never offered them a bonus before. "You are too kind, Lord Amanjira." Anna heard him rise and come across to her. "If you wish," he said softly, "you might stay here tonight, Anna. Share a meal, perhaps, before you return home." She forced herself to look up. His dark eyes were looking at her with a surprising gentleness. "Forgive me," she said, "but I must get back. My father is not well." It was not entirely the truth. She wanted to stay this once and explore the alleys of the old town, but duty had to come first. "I understand," he said, moving back a little, as if sensitive to the sudden defensiveness in her attitude. "Is there anything I can do for him? Potions, perhaps? Or special foods? Sheep's brain is supposed to be especially nutritious." Anna laughed at the thought of her father eating sheep's brain, then grew serious again, not wanting to hurt Amanjira's feelings. "I thank you for your concern. Lord Amanjira, and for your kind offer of help, but we have all we need." Amanjira smiled, then gave a little bow. "So be it. But if you change your mind, do not hesitate to come to me, Anna. Lord Amanjira does not forget who his friends are." Again the warmth of his sentiments surprised her. She smiled. "I shall tell him what the Lord Amanjira said." "Good. Now hurry along, Anna. I am sure I have kept you far too long." * * * The journey home was uneventful. Making good time, Anna arrived at the Lodge just after dawn. She had been away, in all, seven days. Leaving the cart in the deep shadow by the ridge, she climbed up onto the bridge and tiptoed across, meaning to surprise her father, but the Lodge was empty. Anna returned to the doorway and stood there, looking out over the silent desert. Where would he be? Where? She knew at once. He would be at the circle. Leaving the cart where it was, she headed east across the narrow valley, climbing the bare rock until she came out into the early sunlight. It made sense that he would go there at this hour, before the heat grew unbearable. If she knew him, he would be out there now, digging about, turning over rocks. Her father's illness had driven the circle from her mind for a time, but coming back from Tad) mar, she had found herself intrigued by the problem. It seemed almost supernatural But neither she nor her father believed in things that could not be explained. Everything had a rational reason for its existence. Corning up onto the ridge, Anna saw her father at once, in the sunlight on the far side of the circle, crouched down, examining something. The simple physical presence of him there reassured her. Until then she had not been sure, not absolutely sure, that he was all right. For a time she stood there, watching him, noting how careful, how methodical he was, enjoying the sight of it enormously, as if it were a gift. Then, conscious of the sun slowly climbing the sky, she went down and joined him. "Have you found anything?" she asked, standing beside him, careful not to cast her shadow over the place where he was looking. He glanced up, the faintest smile on his lips. "Maybe. But not an answer." It was so typical of him that she laughed. "So how was Amanjira?" he said, straightening up and turning to face her. "Did he pay us?" She nodded, then took the heavy leather pouch from inside her cloak and handed it to him. "He was pleased. He said there might be a bonus." His smile was knowing. "I'm not surprised. I found silver for him." "Silver!" He hadn't told her. And she, expecting nothing more than the usual detailed survey, had not even glanced at the report she had handed over to Amanjira. "Why didh't you say?" "It isn't our business. Our business is to survey the rocks, not exploit them." She nodded at the pouch. "We make our living from the rock." "An honest day's pay for an honest day's work," he answered, and she knew he meant it. Her father did not believe in taking any more than he needed. "Enough to live" was what he always said, begrudging no one the benefit from what he did. "So how are you?" she asked, noting how the color had returned to his face. "Well," he answered, his eyes never leaving hers. "I've come out here every morning since you left." She nodded, saying nothing. "Come," he said suddenly, as if he had just remembered. "I have something I want to show you." They went through the gap between two of the converging ridges, then climbed up over a shoulder of rock onto a kind of plateau, a smooth gray slab that tilted downward into the sand, like a fallen wall that has been half buried in a sandstorm. Across from them another, larger ridge rose up out of the sand, its eroded contours picked out clearly by the sun. The whiteness of the rock and the blackness of its shadowed irregularities gave it the look of carved ivory. There," he said, pointing to one of the larger patches of darkness near the foot of the ridge. "A cave?" she asked, intrigued. "A tunnel." "Where does it lead?" "Come and see." They went down, crossing the hot sand, then ducked inside the shadowed entrance to the tunnel. They stopped a moment, letting their eyes grow accustomed to the darkness after the brilliant sunlight outside, then turned, facing the tunnel. Anna waited as her father lit the lamp, then held it up. "Oh!" The tunnel ran smoothly into the cock for fifteen, twenty paces, but that was it. Beyond that it was blocked by rock fall. Undaunted, her father walked toward it, the lamplight wavering before him. She followed, examining the walls as she went. "It looks lavatic," she said. "It is," he answered, stopping before the great fall of rock. "And I'd say it runs on deep into the earth. Or would, if this rock wasn't in the way." Anna crouched and examined a small chunk of the rock. One side of it was smooth and glassy-the same material