Another moment was spent in an
air bombardment. On any time-line, this section of East Europe was a
natural battleground. Once a great procession marched toward them,
carrying red banners and huge pictures of a coarse-faced man with a
black mustache--Verkan Vall recognized the environment as Fourth Level
Europo-American Sector. Finally, as the transposition-rate slowed,
they saw a clutter of miserable thatched huts, in the rear of a
granite wall of a Fourth Level Hulgun temple of Yat-Zar--a temple not
yet infiltrated by Transtemporal Mining Corporation agents. Finally,
they were at their destination. The dome around them became visible,
and an overhead green light flashed slowly on and off.
Verkan Vall opened the door and stepped outside, his needler drawn.
The House of Yat-Zar was just as he had seen it in the picture
photographed by the automatic reconnaissance-conveyer. The others
crowded outside after him. One of the regular priests pulled off his
miter and beard and went to the radio, putting on a headset. Verkan
Vall and Tammand Drav snapped on the visiscreen, getting a view of the
Holy of Holies outside.
There were six men there, seated at the upper-priests' banquet table,
drinking from golden goblets. Five of them wore the black robes with
green facings which marked them as priests of Muz-Azin; the sixth was
an officer of the Chuldun archers, in gilded mail and helmet.
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