"Maybe. Let's take a walk around the whole town—look at it from all angles."
They walked. They climbed into the jeep and rode the slopes and the arroyos. No one paid any attention to them. No one bothered them. They spent the day and returned to town and ate again in the bleak little restaurant. The same woman pushed endlessly through the too-narrow doorway. When they went to their room the lamp cast such an unsatisfactory light that they put it out and went to bed.
This arrangement satisfied Frank Brooks completely. He was bone tired and sound asleep as soon as he hit the bed.
But not for long. He was awakened almost immediately, it seemed, by a prodding hand. He rolled over. "Whazza mat—?"
"I've got it!"
"You got what?"
Tom Brazier did not appear to hear him. Brazier stood tensely beside the bed holding the lighted lamp. His eyes were bright and hard.
"They couldn't have been left here alone—without some kind of guidance—some means of command. There has to be something. Get your clothes on."
Brooks was out of bed dragging at his pants. "Okay, okay. If you're going nuts, I might as well go with you. But what the hell will we be looking for?"