The tension between the two men seemed to drain the energy from Elverda’s aged body. “It has been a long journey,” she said. “I am very tired. I would welcome a hot shower and a long nap.”

“Before you see it?” Humphries snapped.

“It has taken us more than a week to get here. We can wait a few hours more.” Inwardly she marveled at her own words. Once she would have been all fiery excitement. Have the years taught you patience? No, she realized. Only weariness.

“Not me!” Humphries said. Turning to Dorn, “Take me to it now. I’ve waited long enough. I want to see it now.”

Dorn’s eyes, one as brown as Elverda’s own, the other a red electronic glow, regarded Humphries for a lengthening moment.

“Well?” Humphries demanded.

“I am afraid, sir, that the chamber is sealed for the next twelve hours. It will be imposs—”

“Sealed? By whom? On whose authority?”

“The chamber is self-controlled. Whoever made the artifact installed the controls, as well.”

“No one told me about that,” said Humphries.

Dorn replied, “Your quarters are down this corridor.”

He turned almost like a solid block of metal, shoulders and hips together, head unmoving on those wide shoulders, and started down the central corridor. Elverda fell in step alongside his metal half, still angered at his self-desecration. Yet despite herself, she thought of what a challenge it would be to sculpt him. If I were younger, she told herself. If I were not so close to death. Human and inhuman, all in one strangely fierce figure.