“Besides,” Alvin added reproachfully, “we saw your light and thought you might be signalling for help.”
It was strange to hear so human a sigh from the coldly impersonal machine.
“A million times I must have signalled now, and all I have ever done is to draw the inquisitive from Lys. But I see you meant no harm. Follow me.”
The machine floated slowly away over the broken stones, coming to rest before a dark opening in the ruined wall of the amphitheater. In the shadow of the cave something moved, and a human figure stepped into the sunlight. He was the first physically old man Alvin had ever seen. His head was completely bald, but a thick growth of pure white hair covered all the lower part of his face. A cloak of woven glass was thrown carelessly over his shoulders, and on either side of him floated two more of the strange, many-eyed machines.
8
THE STORY OF SHALMIRANE
There was a brief silence while each side regarded the other. Then the old man spoke-and the three machines echoed his voice for a moment until something switched them off.
“So you are from the North, and your people have already forgotten Shalmirane.”
“Oh, no!” said Theon quickly. “We’ve not forgotten. But we weren’t sure that anyone still lived here, and we certainly didn’t know that you wished to be left alone.”
The old man did not reply. Moving with a slowness that was painful to watch, he hobbled through the doorway and disappeared, the three machines floating silently after him. Alvin and Theon looked at each other in surprise: they did not like to follow, but their dismissal- if dismissal it was-had certainly been brusque. They were starting to argue the matter when one of the machines suddenly reappeared.