The roomy truck-cats provided accommodations for sixty men without crowding. It wasn't necessary to set up tents. Indeed, in that icy air, only "warmer" tents, heated by induced current in their metallic fabric, would have been feasible. The trucks, however, could be heated easily and were air-conditioned. Garth walked over to a kiosk and peered into the black depths. Chahnn lay below, the gigantic, complicated city of the Ancients.
Through Chahnn was the road to the Black Forest—the only road they could use, under the circumstances.
Garth shivered and went in search of Brown. He was feeling shakier than ever. Vividly in his mind was a picture he did not want to remember—a man stretched on an altar, a knife at his breast....
He found Brown beside one of the trucks, looking into the darkness.
"Captain—"
"Huh? Oh, Garth. Say, Paula—Miss Trent took a flashlamp and went down into Chahnn to do a bit of exploring. I was thinking of going after her. Any danger down there?"
Garth shook his head. "It's a dead city. She'll be okay."
"Unless she gets lost."
"She won't. There are markers pointing to the outlets. How about a drink? I could use one."
Scowling, Brown nodded and pushed Garth into the truck. "I bunk in here, with the Commander. You'll have to find a place with the men, somewhere. Oh, by the way—" He pushed folded slips into Garth's hand. "Here's the rest of that forty. And here's a drink."