perhaps a little more than a mile away from thecabin, its wooded slopes flowing steeply down to a landscape which wasdull rust-red--flat sand stretches alternating with worn rockescarpments, until the desert's rim rose toward and touched the hazywhite sky. Not so very different from--
Barney's eyes widened suddenly. Could he be in the Sierras--perhapsnot more than three or four hours' drive from Los Angeles?
Three or four hours' drive if he'd had a car, or course. But even so--
He stared around, puzzled. There were no signs of a human being, ofhuman habitation. But somebody else must be here. Somebody to keepguard on him. Otherwise there was nothing to stop him from walkingaway from this place--though it might very well be a long,uncomfortable hike to any civilized spot.
Even if this did turn out to be the Himalayas, or some equally remotearea, there must be hill tribes about if one went far enough--thereshould even be an occasional airplane passing overhead.
Barney stood just outside the door, frowning, pondering the situationagain, searching for the catch in it. McAllen and his friends,whatever else they might be, weren't stupid. There was somethinginvolved here that he hadn't become aware of yet.
Almost without thought then, he turned up his head, squinting at thebright hazy sky above him--
And saw IT.
His breath sucked in and burst from his lungs in a half-strangled,terrified squawk as he staggered backward into the cabin, slammed thedoor shut, then spun around and began slapping frantically at theswitches on the wall-plate until door and window were gone, and onlythe cabin's soft illumination was around him again. Then he crouchedon the floor, his back against the wall, shaking with a terror hecould hardly have imagined before.
He knew what the catch was now. He had understood it completely in theinstant of glancing up and seeing that tiny brilliant blue-white pointof light glare down at him through the incandescent cloud layersabove. Like a blazing, incredibly horrible insect eye....