"She's far more human than you think," Mark Denning said softly.
"Yes, I noticed that today." Carston's voice sounded glad. "It's only the Spartan training she learned while cruising the spacelanes with her piratical father that keeps her up—that, and the old man's insane will, driving her on through a sense of loyalty to him."
They were so near to the Base now that Mark expected momentarily to hear the clang of metal in the factories, the voices of workmen. His heart quickened at the thought of seeing Aladdian, and he forgot his weariness in embroidering upon that thought.
But the ominous stillness remained unbroken.
They entered the final corridor leading to the vast central chamber. The Commander ran forward, with the anxious men close behind her. They entered the grotto. The subterranean Base extended into the distance before their startled, unbelieving eyes.
"What—" Cynthia began bewilderedly.
It was a dead city, soundless and inert. Under the distant cavern roof it had the air of a ghost town drained of all life.
Mark's heart leaped into his mouth. "Aladdian!" he cried involuntarily, and his hands clenched in an agony of anxiety of helpless rage.
Commander Cynthia was already running toward the palace, a deathly fear mirrored in her eyes.
The men had stopped uncertainly, too weary and exhausted to understand. Then driven by a single thought, they staggered off to their building in search of water and food.