"An idol," Kurkil whispered.
"They died praying to their god," Thompson said. He was not aware that he had spoken. Three skeletons....
The bones indicated a creature very similar to the human in structure. A large, a middle-sized, and a small skeleton.
"We think the small one is that of a child," Ross spoke. "We think this was a family."
"I see," Thompson said. "Did you find other skeletons?"
"Many others. We found them almost everywhere but usually tucked away in corners, as if the people had tried to hide from something." His voice went suddenly into uneasy silence.
"Any indication as to the cause of death?"
"None. It apparently came on quite suddenly. We judge that the inhabitants had some warning. At least we do not seem to find enough skeletons for a city of this size, so we estimate that part of the population fled, or tried to."
"I see," Thompson repeated tonelessly. He caught a vague impression that something had passed before his eyes, like a darting flicker of light, and he caught, momentarily, a fast rustle in the air, as of souls passing. His mind was on the flight of this race, the mass hegira they had attempted in an effort to escape from some menace. What menace? "What do you think caused it?"
Ross shrugged, a gesture eloquent with a lack of knowledge and of understanding. "War—"