"Here, Earl!" Massak was beside him, gun blasting flame. "He'll never make it."

A judgment based on experience. Toetzer was too far, moving too slowly, falling as they watched to be covered with a mass of ravenous creatures. His screams echoed from the speakers, dying as the two men fired and continued to fire until the creatures and the man were dead, unfeeling flesh.

Firing again as they backed into the opening to bring rock showering down from the roof. A barrier Dumarest sealed with a final burst then, satisfied, turned to look at a cavern of nightmare.

* * *

There was a glow in it, a pale luminescence stemming from things which hung like elongated fruit from points high on the walls and roof. Others glowed lower down, some of different shapes from the others, some, as he watched, appearing to twitch.

"Bunch up," he ordered. "Keep a sharp watch- you women watch the roof."

He studied the floor as they moved forward to where the cavern narrowed to a gaping tunnel. It was littered with debris, scraps and fragments of darkish brown material, the sheen of broken metal, shreds of what could have been plastic. The residue of earlier inhabitants or those who had followed Agutter's path. As he neared one of the glowing bundles it moved, bobbing on its stem, jerking as if it contained something alive and struggling to escape.

As Massak lifted his gun Dumarest said, sharply, "No. Don't fire."

"It could be dangerous."

"It is, but not yet. We were lucky. My guess is that whatever is inside those sacs sealed the wall. Maybe in order to breed. Later we'd have been their food."

To be taken, cocooned, planted with eggs which would hatch to devour the helpless, paralyzed prey. Now, replete, the creatures were ready to break free, open the wall and stream like a tide after new prey. A cycle, repeated endlessly, life living on life. The normal way of nature but in Ryzam so concentrated as to defy understanding.

The tunnel held more of the sacs, their number diminishing, to be replaced with masses of softly glowing fungi in a variety of convoluted shapes. A fairyland of deceptive beauty through which Chenault led the way, brushing strands from his lenses, stirring dust with his shoes.

"It's hot!" Mirza voiced what they all felt. "God! I'm roasting!"

The heat increased as they progressed, wending their way along and down a winding slope, breaking out into a vaulted cavern to pause beside a cairn bearing an eroded can.

"Agutter's!" Chenault snatched at it, lifted the paper it contained. Reading he said, "To those who have followed me so far-congratulations! The path now lies to the left. At the next cairn it will be safe to rest."

As he turned to follow the directions Dumarest said, "Hilary? Is it safe?"

"I can't be sure." Her voice echoed her indecision. "I sense something but I'm not sure what. Toetzer could have told you-he had an ability to sense inimical forces. I-I wish he was here."

But the man was dead, paying for his insanity, his skills now lost to the expedition. As the party moved on Massak stepped beside Dumarest, resting his gloved hand on his helmet, the fingers tapping in a signal he recognized.

"What is it?" Dumarest put the question after he had switched off his microphone and had touched helmets to form a conductive link. "Something worrying you?"

"A lot of things, that cairn for one. Why should Agutter have left a message? If he was going in how would he know where it was safe to rest? If he was coming out how the hell did he get through those creatures?"

Questions Dumarest had already considered. "Things could have been different then. Anyway, what choice do we have?"

"None, I guess." The mercenary grunted his acceptance of the situation. "But, if it comes to it, we stand together, right?"

"We all stand together."

"Sure, unless-well, you know what I mean." Massak swore as sweat stung his eyes. "This damned heat! It isn't natural. If it gets worse we'll have to take off the suits."

That would mean walking comparatively naked in a realm of unknown dangers advertising their presence with every step.

"We'll wait," said Dumarest. "We can stand a lot more of this."

Vosper couldn't.

He walked at the front of Chenault's casket, guiding it together with Lopakhin at the rear, stumbling at times, his breathing harsh within his helmet, loud over the speakers. Watching the roof, the walls, checking their rear, Dumarest didn't see him lift his hands to raise the visor and expose his face to the air of the cavern. Only his voice, breathing his relief, told of his action.

"By God, that's better! I was burning in there, the air searing my lungs, but this is sweet. Try it. All of you, try it. Hilary. Mirza. How about you, Tyner? Keep this up and you'll run to melted lard."

"Better that than what you're risking."

"An artist voicing his fear." Vosper was mocking. "Admitting he's a coward. Open your helmet, man. Taste what fresh air is like. It'll open your mind. You'll be able to create a masterpiece when we get back. A vision of unsurpassed beauty to stun the eyes of men. And women, too, naturally." He broke off to giggle. "It's like wine. The air, I mean. I've never felt so good."

Toyanna said, warningly, "Earl, he sounds as if he's been drugged."

"From the air?"

"What could be carried in it. Those fungi could shed spores and many types produce hallucinogens. I think you should make him reseal his suit."

"You could try it." Vosper laughed as if delighted at the prospect of amusement. "But you'd have to kill me to do it. Want to try, Earl? You, Massak? Maybe the two of you could manage it. Maybe we'd all die in the attempt. Stupid, isn't it? Here we are, looking for eternal life, and we're talking about killing each other. No need for that. Just leave me alone. I'll be all right."

A possibility, already his voice was gaining its normal sobriety and the impact of what could be in the air might have passed. Certainly it was too late to prevent any damage and, if the air was harmless, it was well to know.

"Earl?" Toyanna again. "What shall we do?"

"Leave him."

"But-"

"Just leave him."

The rest moved on into the depths of the cavern, to where tunnels gaped, to the one on the left which led to a long gallery crusted with distorted figures of stone glowing with the pale sheen of organic decay. To a place where the floor was gouged as if by mighty claws and walking was difficult.

They camped when they could go no farther, sleeping in sacs inflated and washed clean by tanked air. Stripping to lie close as Dumarest and Massak shared the watches sitting alone in the brooding stillness of a world beneath a world.

***

There had been no cairn. Chenault looked at the hand Dumarest extended toward him, then, slowly, produced the paper he'd found in the eroded can.

Reading it Dumarest said, "I can go no farther. May God help all poor fools who search for an empty dream. If any find this be warned and think of Samu Lowski." Folding the sheet he handed it back. "You lied."

"Can you blame me? How far would any of you have gone after reading this?"

"As far as we've come now. Too far, perhaps." Dumarest looked at the sacs, those within. Awake now, eating from cans, drinking, easing their bodies. "You could have picked a stronger team."

"I took what I could get." Chenault dismissed the subject. "We're here now and must make the best of it. The source can't be too far-Ryzam isn't that large. If it lies at the center a few more days should do it. Less if we have no trouble."

And, after they found it, they would have to get out.

A problem Dumarest ignored; worrying about future difficulties made them no less.