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rock. The bomb exploded/ just over the point where the trail met the rim,
knocking some of the rock into the chasm below.
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"Captain! Are you all right?"
"Yes, Krisha, I have survived as usual, except for the bruises I will have
hitting this rock so hard and fast."
"How many of those bombs do they have, anyway?"' she asked, getting to her
feet.
"Ouch! Judging from Modra's pack, I'd say they've shot their load," he assured
her, then, suddenly, he stopped and smacked his right fist into his left palm.
"How stupid of me! Of course!"
"What?"
"Modra! She's still got her two! We can blow them off that wall even if they
are behind the falls!"
She sighed. "No, Captain. Let them go."
"What? But they're wide open right now!"
' 'Captain Morok, too, has thought of this. He thought of it when the cymol
tried his attack on us. We could have killed them with Modra's bombs at that
time. They were as vulnerable up there as we were inside."
"But "
"Captain, they are not something one can use without a bit of training, and
they require an Exchange suit to program. Are we murderers? Can we retain any
moral superiority if we, by hypno powers, cause Modra to murder her own
people?
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Particularly since, as their telepath pointed out to me, we, not they,
violated our word?"
"Um. I see what you mean." He sighed. "All right, then, I suppose we deserve
this, in a sense. But I have the oddest feeling we're in some sort of race,
and we're losing."
"Funny. Their telepath said the same thing. The Quintara Marathon, he called
it."
Chin gave a dry chuckle, calming down. "The Quintara Marathon. As good a name
as any. But, the fact remains, if we're in some sort of race, we started off
first, well in the lead in this run to who knows where. Now we're third. About
the only way we can do any worse is to go backwards."
She nodded, well aware of that herself. "I guess we'd better get back and see
what the Holy Father decides to do now. Much of this is dependent on his
condition."
' 'You go ahead," he told her.' 'I'm going to risk a peek over the side, now
that I'm fairly certain that there are no more big bangs coming. I want to see
what sort of damage they did to that trail head. If they blew several meters
off, then the matter is academic unless someone brought along a ladder or a
rope."
He walked over, still very cautious, then took a look. It wasn't great for the
first two meters it was going to be pretty hairy going, with only a small part
of the trail width present.
Still, they weren't marooned not yet, anyway. He put his instruments on and
tried to find them, finally locating the group well down in the chasm, far
behind the falls, and barely out of range.
He walked slowly back toward the cliff dwelling, only now starting to feel
those
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huddled together.
"You cannot go, Holiness!" Manya was saying firmly. "You need at least a full
sleep and could use far more! Your body needs time to repair itself!"
"Well, I cannot stay here behind not again," he responded. "I had to leave you
once, but now there is no chance of my catching you at a later date. We can
all use many hours of sleep, Manya, but I refuse to believe that a mere few
more hours will do what two weeks in a hospital would. If we wait here much
longer, even the trail will be cold. We might as well not be here and only the
gods themselves know how far ahead the cursed Mycohl are by now, looking for
the best deal from the demonic horde. If we do not go now, then why are we
here at all?
Why did Savin die? No, we go providing, that is, that the captain tells us it
is still possible."
"It's possible, Holiness, but it won't be easy the first six or seven meters.
And with that leg ..."
"I will remove my suit again, and pass it down to someone who makes it to
solid footing," the Stargin replied. "Then I will do what I did before and fly
to the safer part of the trail, where I can then reclaim my suit and join the
rest of you. Overall, I am probably safer on that ledge than any of you."
Krisha suddenly gasped, and all attention turned to her.
"What is the matter, child?" Morok asked. "I assure you that "
"No, no, Holy Father!" she responded. "I just now lost them! Completely lost
them. I get no sense of anyone else on this entire world except for us. No
blocks, no shields, no probes, nothing. They're gone"
Gun Roh Chin sighed. "Well, maybe that means that we are finally going to get
out of this damnable rain."
It had not been easy, but having had the Exchange team precede them down a
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trail with no detours, it wasn't as difficult for the Mizlaplanian group to
accept the fact that what looked " like the end of the trail was some kind of
trick. Still, none of them stepped through the portal without a little heart
palpitation and a case of nerves.
The great hall of the demons gave them pause and did nothing for the nerves.
Once she'd established that none of the Exchange team remained in the area,
Krisha decided to waste no concentration and personal energy on shielding the
whole group. Still, it was impossible not to get much the same data as the
other telepaths had from the assembled and stored demonic horde.
Modra stared at the design on each of the door panels. "McCray was right," she
commented. "Pentagrams."
"Huh? What's that?" the captain asked.
"That symbol. I don't know what the circle means, but the five-pointed star
with the tips connected with straight lines is a pentagram, or so Jimmy McCray
said.
An ancient symbol that was supposed to keep demons in, or out, depending on
where you were. And these gold light strips in the floor I can't make out the
design, but I'll bet it's not just ornamental. They thought that the geometric
shapes somehow proved to be barriers to the demons. Some of the old ruins we
passed through early on had them."
"Demonic geometry," Chin commented, shaking his head in wonder. "Another rule
to file away. And maybe some measure of protection if we can remember at least
the one shape."
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"Let's get out of here," Krisha urged. "I feel like they're all going to wake
up and start in on us any minute."
Morok nodded. "She's right. If these designs are some sort of geometric means
of imprisonment, then we're breaking them every time we stand in one or cross
a line. I have heard of such things. They are taught to exorcists of the
Inquisition. Let us get out of here."
Modra nodded, feeling it, too, and also feeling that forbidding, almost
overwhelming sense of pure evil coming from all around her. Still, she stared
at all the possible exits in the center. "Which one?" she asked them.
Gun Roh Chin smiled and pointed down. "Somebody didn't wipe their feet and
tracked up this nice, clean floor," he said.
It was brightly polished, except in one area, where there were clear
impressions of treads from boots formed by residue picked up on the trail.
He led, and they followed. It wasn't a consistent trail, but enough people had
been through here that there were enough. "That one," he told them, pointing.
"If we want to keep chasing them, that is."
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