" Neff said.

They went around what had been a house into what had been a garden of
some kind, a quiet nook where a family might sprawl in peace. "There,"
Neff said pointing.

The three skeletons were huddled together in an alcove in front of what
had once been a shrine. They lay facing the shrine as if they had died
praying. Above them in a niche in a wall was--

"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--"

"No wars were fought on this planet," Neff spoke quickly. "These cities
show no evidence of conflict."

"Um," Thompson said. The four men were looking uneasily at him. They
were waiting for him to make up his mind, to decide on a course of
action.

Thompson did not like his own thinking. Something--the blood-brother of
death--had been here on this planet, that much was certain. The evidence
was everywhere.

"We will return to the ship," Thompson said.

Grant saw them coming, had the lock open for them. His worried face
looked out at them. "What gives here?"

"We don't know," Thompson answered. The cat, Buster, pushed forward
between Grant's legs, took a long leap at Thompson's chest, made a
twenty-claw safe landing there. "Hi, old fel