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ERIC NYLUND
141
He didn't want to think about them—but he couldn't help it.
Maybe it was the darkness and the constant weight of the earth
around him.
What if they died here? Not died fighting, but just died here.
In a way, that wouldn't be so bad. Fred had faced death a dozen
times, brushed so close to it he had stared it in the face until it
blinked and turned away.
This was different, though. He didn't want to die, not without
knowing if the other Spartans were still out there fighting. Not if
they still needed him.
He sighed and absentmindedly brushed his fingertips across
the odd symbols. They were as smooth as glass, and their edges
were sharp. These crystals could be a natural phenomenon. He
had seen similar inclusions in the museum on—
Fred felt a hot pain in the tip of his finger. He drew his bare
hand away and a tiny track of blood smeared the rock.
The glittering symbols on the wall took on a greasy cast,
and the reflection from his helmet lights thickened and almost
seemed to be absorbed by the minerals.
He flicked off his helmet lights. The symbols in the rock emit-
ted a faint illumination of their own: a soft reddish glow like
heated metal. The light intensified and spread across the spiral
on the wall, starting from where his blood had fallen; those sym-
bols warmed to a pleasant orange, then yellow-gold.
A new symbol in the center of the spiral appeared that hadn't
been there a second ago . .. or perhaps it had been, but had lain
just beneath the surface. It heated and became increasingly visi-
ble, a single triangle that glowed white.
Fred was inexorably drawn to this central figure. He reached
for it; there was no heat. He slowly stretched and touched the
symbol with his exposed fingertip.
Warm white light raced along the spiral of symbols, then
traced a path down the hallway and into the distance. The entire
cavern seemed sudden alive with radiance and shadow. Even
with the step-down luminosity filters in his helmet, Fred had to
blink and squint.
The wall before him rumbled and seams appeared at the cen-
tral figure, dozen of lines that curved in a radial pattern—and
then pulled away to reveal a corridor behind.