It halted in a chamber whose walls were sculped with vividly stained statuary. Their colors were faded now, but here and there were spots of red sunset, or blue ocean, or the white of a ship's sail. Kortha muffled a curse of surprise in his throat. "I thought you'd like it," Guantra laughed. "That lieutenant of mine found it. He swears it's a lost museum of some very early Martian race. The ones who lorded it when there were oceans on the planet." * * * * * Kortha did not fight the drag of curiosity. He walked along the wall, intent on the friezes. Here were the tall-prowed water-ships, sails bellying before the wind, cleaving foaming, blue-green ocean. He saw men in mail and helmets battling on green grass. There were boudoir scenes, too, with tall and lovely blonde women reclining on soft cushions, fanned by strangely shaped slaves. How had this forgotten clue to a past civilization come to be buried under tons of mountains? Perhaps a planetary catastrophe in the past had shifted an entire mountain-range, to bury a city beneath its rock foundations. Then again, the Old Ones might have carved out niches in the stone itself, hollowing chambers the better to preserve traces of their culture. Kortha hastened his steps, found Guantra waiting for him in a room hung completely with expensive blue-and-gold draperies. Even the ceiling was muffled in bands of rich silk. The floor was a thick fur rug that would have cost a million _kofuls_ on the open market. And in the mathematical center of the room was a couch of incredible softness draped with a spotted black-and-silver _ocemar_ pelt. "Lie down and rest, Kortha. I shall leave you to your thoughts." Kortha came up swiftly in front of Guantra and grasped him by his arms above the elbows. He swung the Premier off his feet, held him inches above the ground, glaring at him. "I could kill you, Guantra. I could snap your spine as a king gorilla could a twig. You would die." Guantra paled and licked him lips. Then he managed to laugh. "No need for that. All I ask is that you spend the night here. In this room, sleeping on that couch. After that, you are free to leave." Kortha dropped the man in his bewilderment, saying, "Is that all? Is the place haunted? Ought I start at ghosts? Or do you gas the lungs out of me?" "Neither. Just stay here. No harm will come to you." Kortha grinned and surveyed the drapes. He ran fingers through his thick yellow hair. He chuckled, "I'll stay. In the morning, I'll leave." He watched Guantra close the door behind him. He heard the bolt snick into place. He went and sank on the couch. It was soft, enticing. Putting up his tanned legs, he crossed them at the ankles.