“We’ll have an early breakfast,” said the robot, “and get an early start. Today may be the day we’ll reach the city.”
They did not reach the city that day, but on the late afternoon of the next.
They sighted it when they reached the crest of a high hill up which the road angled in tortuous twists and turns.
Mary drew in her breath. “There it is,” she said, “but where are all the people?”
“Perhaps there aren’t any,” said Lansing. “It is a ruin, not a city.”
It was spread out on the plain that lay below the hill — a dun-colored plain and a dun-colored city. It covered a good part of the plain that lay between the hills. It lay lifeless and inert. Nothing stirred within it.
“I never in my life,” said Mary, “have seen so depressing a sight. And this was what the Brigadier was so anxious to reach. There would be people there, he said.”
“You could make a living betting against the Brigadier,” said Lansing.
“There is no sign of the others,” said Mary. “No sign of anyone. You’d think they would have been on the lookout for us, watching the trail behind them.”
“Maybe they are doing that. Maybe they’ll show up soon.”
“If they are still there.”
“I think they still are there,” said Lansing. “We’ll camp up here. We’ll keep the fire burning all night. They’ll see the fire.”
“You mean you aren’t going down right now?”
“Not right now. With night coming on, I’d feel safer up here than down there in the city.” “I’m thankful for that,” she said. “I could stand it in the daylight. But not now.”
“There was a stream back a mile or so,” said Jurgens. “I’ll get the water.”
“No,” said Lansing, “you stay here and get some wood together. As much wood as you can. I’ll get the water.”
“I am glad that we are here,” said Mary. “Much as I may fear that city down there, I’m glad we finally made it.”
“So am I,” said Lansing.
After eating they sat in a row atop the hill and watched the city. There was no movement in it. Not a single gleam of light. At any moment they expected to see one of the three who had preceded them come out of the city and wave a welcome to them, but this did not happen.
Finally, after night had closed in, Mary said, “We might as well turn in, get what sleep we can.”
“Both of you will sleep,” said Jurgens. “You’ve had hard days upon the trail.”
“I hope so,” Mary said.
Jurgens woke them at first light.
“The others are down there, waiting for us,” he said. “They must have seen our fire.”
Lansing crawled out of his bag. In the pale light of approaching dawn, he made out three figures standing just beyond the broken, tumbled city wall. One of them, the smaller one, he knew was Sandra, but the other two he could not make out. He raised both his arms and waved. All three of them waved back.
14
The Brigadier strode forward to greet them.
“The long-lost lambs,” he said. “We are glad to see you.”
Sandra ran forward and embraced Mary. “We had been watching for you,” she said. “Late last night we saw your fire. Or at least I thought it was your fire. The Parson wasn’t sure.”
The Parson pulled down the corners of his mouth. “In this barbarous land,” he said, “one can be sure of nothing. It is a place of snares.”
“The city looks deserted,” said Lansing. “We would have come down late yesterday, but it had a fearsome look. We decided to wait till morning.”
“It is not only deserted,” said the Parson, “it is dead. It died very long ago. The buildings are crumbling of their very age.”
“Still, we have found a couple of things,” said the Brigadier. “What appears to have been an administration building, facing on a plaza. We’ve set up headquarters there, an operating base. And we have found inside it what we call a graphics tank. Mostly ruined, of course, but one corner of it—”
“In another room,” said Sandra, “there is a group of statuary. The only art we’ve seen. Carved out of the whitest stone. And the exquisite work! It looks like statuary carved out of souls.”
The Parson grunted at her. “But we have found nothing that throws a ray of light on why we’re here. You,” he said to the Brigadier, “were certain that we would. You were certain we would find people here…”
“One meets each situation as it comes,” said the Brigadier. “You do not tear your hair nor weep nor lie down and kick your heels upon the ground when a circumstance does not meet your liking.” “Have you had breakfast?” Sandra asked. “No,” Mary told her. “When we saw you here, we came down immediately.”
“Neither have we,” said Sandra. “So let’s go back to headquarters and all eat together.”
The Brigadier led the way and Lansing fell in step beside him.
“We’ll have to go a little slowly,” Mary said, “so that Jurgens can keep up.”
The Brigadier turned about. “Well, all right,” he said. “Jurgens, how are you getting on?”
“A little slowly,” Jurgens said. “But I am all right.”
The Brigadier started off again at a somewhat slower pace. “If it’s not one damn thing to hold you up,” he said to Lansing, “then it’s another.”
“You’re the only one,” Lansing told him, “who is in any hurry.”
“It’s hard to change,” said the Brigadier. “I’ve been in a hurry all my life. Back home you had to be on your toes every blessed moment or someone would sneak up and clobber you.”
“And you loved it. You loved every minute of it.”
“I’ll say this,” said the Brigadier. “I clobbered more than ever clobbered me.”
He led the way down what once had been a street, but now was little better than a trail. Many of the flat stone paving blocks that had floored the street were canted out of position, and huge blocks of stone that had fallen from buildings on either side added to the clutter. Vines and shrubs grew in the soil that had been exposed by the upheaval of the stone. In the crevices between the blocks that still remained in place grew grass and weeds.
The buildings were not tall — four and five storeys for the most part. Doors and windows gaped. The stone of which the structures were built was either red or brown.
“Oxidation,” said the Brigadier. “The very stone is rotting. No damage — no violent damage, that is. No sign of fire, no deliberate wrecking. The damage that you see is weathering and time. It has been looted, though. Perhaps time after time. There is virtually nothing left. At one time there were a lot of people here, but none now. The whole damn city’s empty.”
“You said you found something. I think you said a graphics tank. What’s a graphics tank?”
“I don’t know if it’s one or not. I called it that. I could be wrong. Back home there are graphics tanks. You feed problems into them—”
“Military problems?”
“Well, yes, mostly military problems. A sort of war games deal. Factors are fed in and the tank works them out, showing what would happen. Showing it pictorially. That way it can be understood the better. The one we found here is ruined, for the most part dead. One small corner of it is still operating. As if you were looking out a window at another world. At times you see creatures in the picture.”
“Maybe creatures that once lived here.” “I don’t think so. This city is designed for humans, or approximate humans. The doors and windows are the right size. The stairs are the kind of stairs that can be climbed by humans.”
The city had a creepy feeling. Despite its emptiness, something still lurked in it, something hidden, something hiding, watching and waiting. Lansing found himself closely examining each building as they came up to it, alert against the elusive flicker of something that had been watching, ducking out of sight.
