"It is peculiar accommodation for indigent guests."

"Do you find it so?"

' "The atmosphere is picturesque if a bit macabre. The appointments are minimal."

Zaa looked around the chamber.

"It is austere, beyond a doubt. Better facilities are more expensive."

Glawen ignored the silken jest.

"Do the Fexels know that you have found the tomb?"

Zaa languidly stretched her arms to either side, and glanced at Glawen over her shoulder. Glawen watched in fascination.

"Naturally," said Zaa.

"Why else do they oblige us at all times and indulge our whims? Because thousands of tourists spend fortunes straggling across the steppes, hoping to find the tomb. We keep the secret, and the Fexels leave us in peace."

Glawen looked thoughtfully toward the dais. Strange how casually he had been entrusted with so precious a secret!

Zaa had not even suggested discretion. How could she be sure that he would keep this

rather sensational information secure, once he left the Point? Evidently she took his good faith for granted.

Remarkable! Zaa did not seem a trusting woman. Other ideas entered Glawen's head; he pushed them and their implications to the side.

He asked Zaa: "What of the fabulous treasure?"

"The catafalque was smashed. Zonk's bones could not be found. There was no treasure." Zaa turned and walked slowly across the chamber. She stopped and looked over her shoulder.

"Are you coming?"

Glawen followed, feeling as if he were walking through a dream. Great events hung in the air; what might be their import? He could not guess; his mind veered this way and that in the effort to avoid thought of any sort.

Zaa stopped by the little rill which trickled across the floor. She looked back at Glawen.

"You have noticed this stream?"

"Yes. On the chance that it was not connected to your drains, I went so far as to taste it."

Zaa nodded gravely.

"The water is mineralized but it is potable. Look now, how the water drains into a tunnel. Other persons, even more afflicted with mental disorder than yourself, thought to curtail their therapy by crawling down the hole. It is not a good plan. The tunnel narrows and the adventurer cannot return. If he manages to squeeze past the narrow place, he falls into a deep dark pool. The water is cold and after a few moments of splashing about, he drowns, and his tissues quickly become mineralized. It is said that a very thin person once crawled down the tunnel at the end of a rope, in search of treasure. He found nothing of value, but when he shone his lamp into the pool, he saw a number of white shapes at the bottom, disposed in various postures.

Some of these petrifactions date back to the time of Zab Zonk; indeed, one may well be Zonk himself, though we have never troubled to make sure."

Glawen said in subdued voice: "The pool would be a tourist attraction in itself."

"No doubt! We want nothing to do with tourists! The confusion, noise and litter would sorely try our patience.

The tomb will never know change, nor the pool. Think! A million years from now explorers of some alien race may chance upon the pool. Imagine their amazement as they peer down through the water!"

Glawen turned his back to the tunnel.

"It is an interesting thought."

"Quite so. Here in the tomb one feels the flux of time. In the stillness, I often think to hear the murmur of those far future voices, as they explore the tomb." Zaa dismissed the subject with a flippant wave of her fingers.

"But it need not concern us. We are the things of Now! We are alive! We are aware! We ordain! We ride our personal worlds across the universe as if they were great rumbling chariots!"

After a moment Giawen said, somewhat more cautiously: "I am surprised that you have confided so much information, particularly in regard to Zonk and his tomb."

"Why not? Information is what you came for! Am I not correct?"

"Correct! And yet--" Zaa wandered to the dais. She seated herself on the edge and looked up at Giawen.

"And yet?"

"Nothing in particular."

Zaa said: "Either you must sit or I must stand; I cannot talk with my head tilted back."

Giawen gingerly seated himself at a discreet distance, and appraised Zaa from the corner of his eye. The lamplight blurred her features and gave her face an odd end-of-nowhere charm.

Zaa spoke softly: "As I mentioned, Lilo is convinced that you arc charged with a immoderate and rampant eroticism, so that you fairly sweat with lust."

"Lilo's hopes or fears--whichever it may be--exceed reality by a factor of fifty to one," said Giawen.

"She is too excitable for her own good, and no doubt is a victim of fantasies. On the other hand, if the only men she sees are beasts like Muds and Funo, I can appreciate her yearnings."

"Funo, so it happens, is a woman."

"What! Are you serious?"

"Of course."

"Ha! I wonder that poor Lilo is as sane as she is."

"Do you consider Lilo sexually stimulating?"

Giawen frowned off across the room. The situation was becoming ever more rife with delicate possibilities. Time was the important factor! Surely by now Plock must be in receipt of his message, and surely would not delay at undertaking his rescue.

Meanwhile, Zaa seemed relaxed and might well be inclined to provide more information. If he exercised his gallantry to the fullest, she might become more relaxed than ever. Giawen winced. Zaa undeniably seemed less grotesque and more nearly human than before but there was still about her the unnerving suggestion of a white reptile:

a walking lizard, or a white-skinned newt with red hair.

Giawen winced again. He must expunge these ideas from his mind; if Zaa suspected their presence she might become not only cold but spiteful.