Hugh hardly dared to glance in the direction where the huddled figure had been, but with an effort of will he steeled himself against the growing nausea and resolutely walked over to the thing.
He felt his sanity reeling.
He was brought back to sanity by the Panadur, who, all along, had communicated with him. Its fragile, six-fingered hand was extended, palm-upwards and lying on it was a gleaming jewel.
"Take it and go!" The message came with majestic power, yet there was a world of kindness in it. "Go back to your ship. You will find its damage repaired. We have done that for you. With the star of Panadur you will be guided back as my thought centers upon it. On the day when you return to our world, gaze upon the star and you will be helped to find again and gather the crystals you seek. But none from your planet must ever see us again, or even hear of us!"
"I promise!" Hugh exclaimed fervently, remembering Jim Brannigan's intent and that there were many men like Brannigan.
Slowly Hugh left the cave, clutching the dazzling gem through which he could feel a directed flow of thought. He was still a little dazed at this miracle. He wanted to laugh and to cry. But the flooding realization that his ship, repaired and ready, awaited him; that he was free to leave this craggy hell of crimson shadows and arctic nights, left only a vast, singing quiet in his soul, too deep for tears.