Haral held his voice flat, without emotion. "You'll need some weapon. The ray-gun will do as well as any." He settled the helmet more firmly on his head and took a new grip on his light-lance. "Come on!"
Twisting, dragging the light-lance beside him, he wormed his way towards the nearest of the skeletal shafts that rose like gravestones over this dead city, last monuments to a civilization fallen into dust.
Perhaps the shaft had been part of a building, once—a wall, a buttress, maybe. Now, pillar-like, it stood alone. Gaping holes showed through its mass. Great chunks of rock had fallen, here and there exposing the huge, corroding metal beams that were its core.
They reached its base. Haral pulled himself erect amid the black shadows cloaking the foundation. Wearily, he leaned against a fallen column.
The move brought fragments rattling down.
At the sound, a coleopteron in a nearby hollow came to a sudden halt. For a moment it hesitated, then began to work its way warily towards the shaft.
Kyla said, "Haral—!" in a voice choked with new panic.
"Stay here. Don't move," Haral clipped tightly. "And don't shoot—not unless you have to!"
As he spoke, he levered himself up onto the lowest beam.
More broken stone clattered to the ground below him.