Spectrum of a Forgotten Sun

"And I am waiting for you, Earl. How long must I wait? I expected you back with your trophy yesterday. We could have been married today. Tomorrow would have seen us in our new home. Am I so repulsive that you prefer the company of a lame boy to what I offer? Must I tell you again that I love you? Earl, damn you, must you torment me?"

A woman in love, pleading, forgetting her pride in the face of a greater need. Standing before him she looked radiant, her hair a flaming glory, her body one of feline grace.

"Tomorrow, Dephine." He needed time in which to search. "Tomorrow."

"And tonight?"

"We'll camp here."

"Not here, Earl. The olcept are on the move and are heading this way. Return to the House and be safe. You promise?" She didn't wait for his answer, confident in his obedience, the power of her attraction. "Tonight, Earl. I'll be waiting."

As her raft lifted Navalok said, "Shall I keep on shooting, Earl?"

"Until you hit the target, yes."

"You didn't want her to see us searching," said the boy shrewdly as he thrust fresh cartridges into the pistol. "That's why you had me shoot, isn't it, Earl? Don't you want her to share our secret?"

As yet they had nothing to share, but the boy had guessed the answer.

Dumarest said, "Look at that point of rock. Keep looking at it and raise the gun. Think of it as a finger which you are pointing to the spot your eyes are fixed on. Concentrate. Don't squeeze the butt too hard. Just close your finger, gently, and don't do it until you feel that you, the gun, is pointing at the target." He grunted as stone chipped a few inches from the point. "Better. Try again."

Fire and keep firing until the sky was clear. In clear air sound traveled a long distance and the woman's ears were sharp. A woman who was determined to get her own way and would do anything to bend him to her will. One who would destroy any clue leading to Earth if she thought it would take him from her side.

As the tiny mote of the raft finally vanished Navalok said, "Enough, Earl?"

"Enough. Now let's go and see what we've found."

The scrub was sturdy, the roots deep, the plants yielding reluctantly as Dumarest tore them free. Loose stone followed, debris rolling down the slope as he cleared the mouth of the narrow vent. It was in the form of a rounded arch, the keystone bearing a worn symbol, a barely discernable disc surrounded with tapering rays. The lower part of the opening was blocked with a mass of gritty soil and shattered stone.

Dumarest tore at it with hands and knife, coughed in a cloud of rising dust, then squinted through the opening. A child could have passed through it with ease. An adult, years ago, with a little wriggling. Fresh falls had piled on old, the roots of the scrub splitting stone to add to the detritus.

"I could get inside, Earl." Navalok thrust himself forward.

"No." Who could tell what might be lurking within. "Help me clear this opening."

Thirty minutes later a path had been cleared for the two of them.

"This is it, Earl," said Navalok as he stared into the thick gloom. "The sun must have been just right when I entered it last. It caught something which gleamed. It was that which attracted me, I remember it now."

"You said the light was bad."

"It was, aside from that one bright place. But I could see what was inside. My father too, Earl, he had no doubt as to the importance of what we'd found. If we wait perhaps the sun will shine inside."

"There's no need to wait," said Dumarest. "I've brought lights."

They were powerful flashlights which threw cones of brilliance into the opening to be reflected back in a dazzling brilliance. Moving the beam Dumarest saw a rounded roof carved with vine-like decorations and set with scraps of crystal in various shapes. The walls too, what he could see of them, were also carved and decorated with strips of red and yellow, amber and green, orange and umber material which held and diffused the light to cast a roseate glow.

Holding back his hand Dumarest said, "Give me the gun."

Reluctantly Navalok parted with it. The weapon at his waist had given him the assurance of a man, without it he felt a child again. He watched as Dumarest checked the load.

"Earl?"

"Wait here. Follow when I call. Stay well back until then. If anything is living in there it may try to break out past me. If it does I don't want you to get hurt."

Navalok said, wonderingly, "Earl, you talk like, like father."

"Maybe I feel like him. Stand back now."

Dirt showered from beneath his knees as Dumarest edged himself up and into the opening. He thrust forward the light in his left hand, the gun ready to fire in his right. It swept up and level as something seemed to move and glare at him, his finger easing its pressure just in time. The light, not the thing had moved and the glare came from a mask not a living face.