Margaret shook her head. “I doubt it, old man.” Now that she could pause, the furious panic and the avalanche of questions roared around her, overwhelming her imagination. She held Louis close.

“Please explain what has happened, Margaret,” DD said.

“Arcas is dead.” The words sounded unreal in her mouth. “The worldtrees have all been destroyed. Our records and our communications transmitter have been smashed. The camp is a wreck.”

“The Klikiss robots did it,” Louis said, as if admitting it to himself for the first time.

The Friendly compy was taken aback, and he remained silent as his computer brain processed the radical new information. “Then we are stranded here on Rheindic Co.”

“Of course,” Margaret said, shoring up her helplessness with a veneer of anger.

“I have discovered new information that might shed light upon this mystery,” DD said. “A section of hieroglyphics that were covered up on a wall not far from the stone-window chamber.”

Intensely interested in whether it had some bearing on their survival, Margaret stood up, glad for the distraction, for something positive she could do. “I’ll go look at it.” She glanced at her husband, who seemed too distraught to move. “Louis, stay here and keep watch. Shout if you see anything.”

Louis swallowed hard and leaned against the overhang wall, looking out into the night. Without question, Sirix, Dekyk, and Ilkot would come for them. And since the archaeologists were stranded here on the ghost planet, the black robots had all the time in the world.

In a tunnel deeper within the cliffside, away from the portal wall chamber, DD had scraped away a broad section of powdery, resinous covering. “It was similar to plaster, obscuring the hieroglyphics. When I scanned the wall, I discovered the markings underneath. I thought you would like to inspect them, Margaret, so I carefully cleaned the overlay. Notice several instances of the symbol that corresponds to the Klikiss robots.”

Margaret drank in the information. “Good work, DD. You’ll make a fine xeno-archaeologist someday.” Tracing her fingertip along the symbols, she read quickly from what she knew of the language. She’d had enough practice by now that she could interpret the general meaning without recourse to her carefully compiled databases and dictionaries. No wonder some ancient Klikiss survivor—perhaps the cadaver they had found in the machine room—had wanted to hide this last testament.

“Is it important information, Margaret?” DD asked.

Her heart grew colder as she understood the markings. “Yes, DD. This might just be the last piece of the puzzle.” She began to walk numbly back toward the main overhang. Louis had to know what she had learned.

As she passed the portal wall chamber, she glanced inside and saw the clutter of their day’s work. Next to her notes lay part of a sandwich and a protein wafer, the small but beautiful music box Anton had given her. Feeling a pang, Margaret snatched the music box and pocketed it.