"Iduna," said Kathryn. "We named her Iduna. It was a name found by Gustav in an old book."

"One a trader brought me, Earl. The name is that of an ancient goddess of spring, the guardian of the golden apples which the gods tasted whenever they wished to restore their youth."

"Legend."

"Of course, but what of that? And surely you have no quarrel with legend? A man who dreams of finding Earth?" Gustav smiled and gestured with both hands. "A scrap of delirium, Earl. You raved a little as they operated on your wound. Nonsense, naturally, but interesting as a matter of speculation. Mysterious planets, lost and forgotten which offer tremendous riches to those who are fortunate enough to find them. Earth is but one. Paradise is another. Eden another, I think, and Bonanza too if I am not mistaken. I have a list here somewhere."

"Leave it," said Kathryn as he turned to rummage among his papers. "We have other things to discuss."

They were in Gustav's study where she had joined them together with wine. Glasses to ease the tension and to occupy hands, though Dumarest needed no such aids. A mistake, she thought, the careful manipulation had been unnecessary. A direct proposition would have worked just as well but it had seemed wise to be sure. And she had doubted her own reaction to his presence. Anger, aroused at memory of his touch, his threats could have overwhelmed her. Even now she had to remember that he was to be used and was worth more alive than dead. Remembering that she held his life in her hands helped her to retain her equanimity. And she needed him. If he could win where the others had failed all would be forgiven.

The wine slopped in her glass as she lifted it to her lips and drank, barely tasting the wine, feeling only its needed warmth.

"Iduna," said Dumarest meeting her eyes. "Your daughter who is lost."

"Not lost. Not exactly. That is-Gustav, why don't you explain?"

"You saw the man in the compound," he said. "Would you say he was lost?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"And Iduna is lost in a similar way. That is we have her body safe on Esslin. We even know what happened to her. We can guess where her mind, her intelligence must be. But we can't find it, Earl. We can't get to her. We can't guide her back to us!"

A mystery. Dumarest waited for him to explain.

"I collect old things." Gustav gestured toward his desk, the crammed files standing against the wall, the shelves holding enigmatic objects. "Traders bring them knowing of my interest and usually they ask little for what, to them, is rubbish. To others too, perhaps, but to me it is an entrancing hobby. To piece scraps together to form a whole, to build from it, to guess and surmise, to indulge in fantasy and explore myths such as that of Earth. It began when, as a boy, I was given an old almanac. Then a recording of a play in which strange names were used. I've them both somewhere and used to value them highly. Now I wish to God I'd never seen them!"

The man was distraught. Dumarest poured wine and handed him the goblet.

"Thank you," Gustav drank and sucked in his breath. "I digress. Iduna, I must tell you about Iduna. Of the thing she found while I was away. That damned, cursed thing found on a blighted world!"

"Gustav!"

"Yes." He looked at the woman, responding to the iron note of command. "Yes, my dear."

"You were not to blame!"

"So you tell me. But if it hadn't been for my interest. If I had been more careful. If I hadn't-"

"Luck," said Dumarest. "We spoke about it, remember? Bad luck which causes you to do the wrong thing at the wrong time. The kind which made me a victim of slavers." He glanced at the woman. "Which almost cost me my life."

Without looking at him she said, "Continue, Gustav."

"A thing," he said. "A trader bought it, he said, and thought of me. If he told the truth about its origins it was found when an earth-mover dug up a mass of debris and dropped it on the surface. The story could be true, stranger things have happened, and at the time I wasn't interested. The thing itself was enough. An artifact of some kind and one never made by man. You realize what I am saying, Earl? I held the product of an alien civilization in my hands."

Dumarest wasn't impressed. "In some sectors such things are common. Bricks fashioned by some ant-like creature with rudimentary intelligence. Pots made of dust cemented with spittle. Discs scored with lines which could be equations of some kind. And-"

"Rubbish!" Gustav was impatient. "I know of such items and they prove nothing but that certain life forms constructed certain patterns which need have nothing to do with true intelligence. But can you deny that others must have lived in the galaxy before us?"

"No."

"Then you can understand my excitement. I had examined it in a dozen ways and finally gained a response to certain stimuli. A reaction which registered on a dozen instruments. I couldn't wait. I ran to the laboratory to gain the aid of experts and, while I was gone, Iduna entered the study."

Memory of it made him weak, events long past suddenly alive again so that he could hear the thud of his feet as he ran, instinct warning him something was wrong. Feel again the pounding of his heart, the empty sickness in his stomach, the shouts which tore his throat, the tears which stung his eyes.

See again the small, limp figure lying before the damned artifact.

A sacrifice to his alien god.

"Here!" He looked up and saw Dumarest standing close with a glass in his hand. Dutifully he took it and drank and coughed as the contents caught at his throat. Brandy this time, distilled energy, an anodyne to the pain which had been obvious for all with eyes to see. "And then?"

"Nothing!" The glass shattered in his hand and he stared at the blood marring the whiteness of his palm. "Nothing!"

Nothing but endless grief, endless regret, the hollow emptiness and the accusation, never admitted, which he saw in Kathryn's eyes. Or imagined he saw-what did it matter? The guilt was his.

"We tried," said Kathryn. "My technicians aren't fools and it was obvious the collapse had to be connected somehow with the Tau." She noticed Dumarest's frown. "We had to call it something."

"Isn't the word connected with something precious?"

"Anything connected with my daughter is that. But as I was saying tests were made on the Tau and others made on Iduna. She seemed to be asleep but for no apparent cause. No trace of drugs, injury, shock or the passage of any kind of energy. It just seemed that, somehow, she had been sucked from her body. Her awareness, that is, her basic self."

"A working hypothesis," said Gustav. "We had to begin somewhere."

And later facts had supported it. Dumarest listened as they were enumerated, the checks, tests with beasts, tests with the girl, and then, after a long while, the first volunteer.

"He was mad," said Kathryn. "Insane. He had to be to plunge into the unknown. But I think he loved me and certainly he loved my child." She paused then said softly, "He was the first to die."

"How?" Dumarest snapped his impatience. "Save the wake until later, my lady, grief for those I have never known is a luxury I cannot afford. How did the hero die?"

His insult worked as he'd intended. The flush on her cheeks matched the sudden flare of anger in her eyes and, at that moment, she would cheerfully have watched him die. Then Gustav, more perceptive, said, "Earl is right, my dear. He needs to know."

"He died," she said stiffly. "Quickly, thank God, but he taught us a little even as he did so. The next lasted longer and after him came others. You've seen one of the latest."

"And you want me to join them?"

"No! No, Earl, the very opposite." Gustav was emphatic. "We want you to succeed where they failed. To go after Iduna wherever she might be, to find her, to bring her back to us. And, if you do that-"