I would rather
put my faith in something that can be trusted.'
Her eyes pleaded.
'I know,' he said more quietly. 'Nothing is that simple. But
the miracle of the Voice is not banished yet. Bring me the torch, and
we'll see what lies beyond.'
Slowly she calmed the surge of religious fear, and took from its mount
on the wall the torch that they had made. She handed it to him as he
continued to reach across the polished granite, removing or brushing
aside the broken glass that remained. He then moved the torch from side
to side, trying to see.....
'There is a room, about the same size of the upper cave. But it is
higher, and filled with objects I don't know.' Taking the fur
canopy from his bed, he folded it and used it to line the edges, still
rough, of the opening. Then tossing the light in gently ahead of him,
he mounted the altar. And passed within.
'I'm coming, too,' came the woman's voice after him.
Perceiving no immediate danger, he wedged the torch into an opening, and
helped her through the empty, oval space. Upon regaining her feet, the
girl looked around her. . .and gave voice to her dismay.
'Computers.' And so it was. One entire wall of the square-cut
chamber consisted of nothing but the sterile MACHINES: voice and thought
analyzers, communications and memory, species, mythology, and logic
sequencers.
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