He had not known what to expect—Xintel had told him only that the Place Of Change was irreparably ruined—but certainly nothing so bleak and disheartening. There was nothing but mud within the great building. Whatever machinery or equipment had been used to change the Venusians to water-breathers had vanished without a trace. Barry's shoulders sagged as he turned back toward the window.
But then the engineering training of his years on Earth reasserted itself, and he wondered of what material the building had been constructed to withstand the ravages of the savage environment of the Venus. With the flat of one hand he brushed at the greenish, clinging slime that covered the walls. Etched into the wall were strange symbols arranged in an orderly fashion. Writing, obviously done by the Ancients.
It was possible that the inscriptions included the technical data on which the Place had been based.
He ran to another section of wall and wiped at it, then at random to a third spot. More writing. It meant nothing to him, but in the colony there were specialists who might—
His chest began to burn, bringing his mind back to his present situation. There was nothing he could do for the present, and he must warn the colony. There was no telling how far Komso's plans had progressed. Perhaps the attack had already started.
He hurried out through the window, slid and stumbled through the swamp, plunged into the water. Xintel was sitting up.
"Can you find the colony?" he asked.
She nodded, "Far along the shore, that way, I can feel the presence of life. Your kind of life."
"That's it! Let's go!"
They followed the shoreline, and as the minutes passed a happy excitement grew in the Earthman at the prospect of seeing his own kind again. Xintel was silent.