The Third Lynx

and tall granite rock spines. Trees and clumps of vegetation were few and far between, concentrated mostly along streambeds and around natural springs, but nearly every minor dip and depression where dew might collect had sprouted stands of feathery, waist-high brown grass. It was easily pulled out of the loose soil, and I set Bayta and Penny to work gathering a few bunches to scatter across the top of the aircar. While they did that, Stafford and I got the unconscious Morse out of his carrying crate and set him up in one of the rear seats, wristcuffing him to the armrest to make sure he stayed put. It seemed unlikely we would make it to the dig and back before he woke up, but with luck by the time he did the local Modhri mind segment wouldn't be in any shape to respond to his warning. I gave him one last jolt from the kwi and we set off.

The air was bitterly cold, typical of arid regions with little ground and atmospheric water to hold heat. The sky was clear and the stars shone brilliantly down on us.

I particularly noticed the stars, as much of my attention was focused on the sky and any telltale occultations that might indicate curious aircraft nosing around. But I didn't spot anything, and in retrospect I decided that was as it should be. The Modhri wouldn't want to attract unwelcome curiosity by putting up nighttime sentry aircraft over a supposedly innocent archaeological dig.

An hour's walk brought us to the Ten Mesas area and the base of the mesa I'd chosen for our climb. Penny had assured us that the upward slope wouldn't be difficult, but looking at it from below in the dark it certainly looked daunting enough. But I needed to get in, and this was probably the simplest way.

Besides that, Penny was already striding briskly up the black rock, Stafford and Bayta right behind her. Taking a deep breath, deciding I hated this, I headed up after them.

The slope was every bit as challenging as I'd guessed it would be, and if I'd had any knee trouble at all I probably wouldn't have made it. As it was, we were all puffing to one degree or another by the time the slope began to level off onto the top of the mesa. Here the required level of physical exertion was much lower, but on the minus side much of the upper mesa surface was covered by the same waist-high grass we'd already encountered below. It was easy enough to push through, but because we couldn't see the ground below us we now had to pick our way carefully lest we twist an ankle on a hidden dip or pit or rock.

Once again, I kept an eye out for sentries. Once again, I didn't spot any.

The sky to the east was starting to show a faint reddish glow when we reached the northern end of the mesa.

'Yes, that's exactly what I was talking about,' I commented in a low voice as we stood facing the Spike. It looked just the way the pictures had showed it: a sudden upward sweep of the mesa's surface into a steep-sloped, more or less pointed formation towering ten meters above us. At the same time, the sides of the mesa on either side of us also rose sharply, leaving us in a sort of natural cul-de-sac.

'No problem,' Penny assured me, digging a coil of rope from her backpack. 'We'll anchor the rope here and toss the coil over the lip around the side of the Spike. Its own weight, plus the friction of the rock up there, ought to give enough counterbalance for me to get to the lip. Once I'm there I'll anchor it, we'll all climb up, then we'll rappel down the other side.'

To me it seemed more likely we would simply slice the rope in half on the edge of the lip. But Penny was already tying one end of the rope to a rock outcropping below the Spike. I checked my watch and peered across the wasteland at the easternmost of the mesas perhaps two kilometers away, its own Spike silhouetted against the increasing glow of the approaching sunrise like the prow of an ancient Viking dragon ship. Digging out the thick leather gloves Penny had bought with the rest of our climbing supplies, I pulled them on.

She finished securing the rope and heaved the coil up and over into the darkness. With one hand on the rope and the other searching out crevices and protrusions on the rock face itself, she started up.

I held my breath, but she made it without falling. 'Okay,' she called softly as she crouched down and got a grip on the rope. 'Bayta?'

Bayta started forward, but I touched her shoulder and shook my head. 'I'll go,' I said. Getting a grip on the rope, I started up.

I made it to the top, to find that the razor-edged ridge I'd envisioned was instead a narrow but relatively flat shelf with plenty of room to stand or sit. Climbing up beside Penny, I eased a careful look over the other side.

That side, unfortunately, was every bit as dizzying as I'd expected it to be. It was nearly as sheer as a skyscraper wall, dropping sixty meters to the ground below. With an effort, I forced my mind and eyes away from the cliff and focused my attention instead on the archaeological dig spread out before me.

Even knowing what was at stake, I was surprised at the size of the operation. The glow in the east wasn't yet strong enough to shine any real light down there, but I could see the firefly glow of hundreds of small guide lights, some marking pathways across the area, others delineating the edges of pits or marking other hazards. In their faint reflected light I could see at least fifty tents of different sizes, plus the unmistakable shapes of a dozen portable sanitation facilities. There were vehicles, too: aircars and trucks, water and fuel tankers, and something that was probably a portable kitchen setup. Clearly, the Modhri was pulling out all the stops.

'I'll go first,' Penny murmured beside me, starting to fasten the rope into her rappelling harness. 'I'll tug the rope three times when I'm ready.'

I took a careful breath. 'That's okay,' I told her. 'I'll go first.'

'It'll be easier for you if I'm down there belaying the other end.'

'I'm the one in charge,' I reminded her. 'If there are any surprises waiting down there. I should be the one to find them.'

I couldn't see her expression in the darkness, but I fancied I could perhaps sense a little new respect. 'Okay,' she said. 'Let me help you with your harness.'

A minute later I was ready. 'Remember, three tugs,' she said, giving the harness's rope channel one final check. 'Then if you don't mind belaying it, it'll be easier for Bayta and Daniel.'

'Got it,' I said. 'Don't panic if I don't tug right away—I'll want to check out the area a little first.' Giving her an encouraging smile—a waste of effort since she couldn't see my expression any more than I could see hers—I got a grip on the rope, leaned backward, and fell off the edge of the cliff.

It was as bad as I'd expected. All my acrophobic feelings came rushing back as the wind swept past me and my feet bounced off the rock face like a vertical kangaroo in full emergency reverse. I could hear the faint and only marginally reassuring hiss of my harness feeding the rope through the channel exactly the way it was supposed to, and could feel the sliding of the rope on my palms even through the leather gloves.

And then, abruptly, it was over. The harness kicked into deceleration mode and slowed me to an almost gentle landing on the rocky ground. Helping myself to a few lungfuls of fresh air, I freed the rope from my harness and took a quick look around.

The terrain was basically the same as it had been on the other side of the mesa: rocks, stands of tall grass, no trees to speak of. More to the immediate point, the nearest of the tents was a good thirty meters away, and there was no one wandering around that I could see or hear.

Pulling out the comm I'd gimmicked during the flight, I plugged in its battery pack and I keyed in the code I'd set up. Making sure it was working properly, I slipped it back into my pocket. Then, removing my right glove, I snugged the kwi into position against my palm, adjusted it to its highest pain setting, and pulled the glove back over it. The weapon's bulk pushed rather blatantly against the leather, but if I kept my hand curved and at my side it shouldn't be too noticeable, especially not in this light. Given that the thing apparently worked just fine through the victim's clothing, I didn't expect the glove to impede it any. Then, wrapping the rope around my right forearm, I gave it three sharp tugs. Eyes turned cautiously upward so that I could move out of the way before I got landed on, I braced myself.

A few minutes later we were all down. None of the others, as near as I could tell, had had nearly as traumatic a time of the experience as I had. 'What now?' Stafford whispered.

'We find the trophy room,' I whispered back. The sky, I noted, had brightened considerably during this last stage of our trek. Most of the dimmer stars were already gone, and the predawn glow was hard at work engulfing the rest. 'Should be one of the larger tents toward the middle of the camp. Keep it quiet—the walkers could start waking up anytime now.'

We set off in single file, me in front, Stafford and Penny behind me, Bayta bringing up the rear. The rocky ground didn't lend itself to silent travel, but with me trying to pick out the best route and the others trying to stay in my footsteps it wasn't too bad. Fortunately, at this hour it shouldn't be unreasonable for an early riser or two to be up and about.