But of those who had once been at home there, there remained
no trace. Lur, having given one glance to the furnishings, was prowling
about the far end of the cabin uncertainly, and now he voiced his
uneasiness.
"There is something beyond, something which once had life--"
Varta crowded up to him. To her eyes the wall seemed without line of an
opening, and yet Lur was running his broad front paws over it carefully,
now and then throwing his weight against the smooth surface.
"There is no door--" she pointed out doubtfully.
"No door--ah--here--" Lur unsheathed formidable fighting claws to their
full length for perhaps the first time in his temple-sheltered life, and
endeavored to work them into a small crevice. The muscles of his
forelegs and quarters stood out in sharp relief under his scales, his
fangs were bare as his lips snapped back with effort.
Something gave, a thin black line appeared to mark the edges of a door.
Then time, or Lur's strength, broke the ancient locking mechanism. The
door gave so suddenly that they were both sent hurtling backward and
Lur's breath burst from him in a huge bubble.
The sealed compartment was hardly more than a cupboard but it was full.
Spread-eagled against the wall was a four-limbed creature whose form was
so smothered in a bulky suit that Varta could only guess that it was
akin in shape to her own. Hoops of metal locked it firmly to the wall,
but the head had fallen forward so that the face plate in the helmet was
hidden.
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