Evil Star

Richard asked.
    "There are supposed to be. But there's never enough of them, and the Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star ones who are out here will probably be asleep. Anyway, I have a special permit to go into the desert. . . which is more than I can say for Mr. Salamanda! If I'd found him or his people tramping over the lines, I'd have had his guts for garters — and I don't care how important he thinks he is."

    Mm glanced at Pedro, who was looking out the win-dow, even though there was very little to see. “You okay?" he asked.
    Pedro nodded.
    "You should get some sleep," the professor said. "This could be a long night."
    Two hours later, she stopped and checked her map. The sun had virtually disappeared below the horizon but there was still a red glow in the sky, as if it were unwilling to let go of the heat of the day. The professor pushed the gear stick into four-wheel drive and spun the wheel. Almost at once the Jeep began to bounce up and down as it swapped the bitumen surface of the highway for the rough sand and rock of the desert floor.
    They drove for another hour. The professor glanced a couple more times at the map but she had a good idea where they were going.
    After all, she had been visiting this place for more than thirty years and knew just about every inch of it. At last she stopped.
    "We can walk this final part," she said. "There are three spades in the back. Also water bottles, sandwiches, and — most important of all — chocolate. Peruvian chocolate is absolutely first-rate, by the way. Nothing like those sickly little bars you get in England."
    Matt stepped out of the Jeep.

    Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star He guessed that the great rectangle — the place of Qolqa — must be somewhere in front of him but he could see nothing of it. The rapidly fading light didn't help. He understood now why the Nazca Lines had remained undis-covered for so long. There was nothing to see at ground level apart from a flat, empty plateau. He was like an ant, crawling across a tabletop. The landscape was simply too big to make any sense. Only from above would the pictures become visible. He had seen them clearly from the plane. Now he was among them and they were gone.
    "Look here!" Professor Chambers called out.
    She turned on the flashlight and pointed it down. The beam of light picked out tire tracks — freshly made, Matt guessed. It seemed that the desert was a bit like the surface of the moon in that any mark stayed there permanently. The professor followed the tire tracks a short way, then swung the flashlight around. Two cars had come.
    This was where they had stopped. There were dozens of footprints.
    Several people must have gotten out.
    "This is going to be easier than I thought," Professor Chambers muttered.
    "What do you mean?" Richard asked.
    “Your poem tells us to stand in front of the place of Qolqa. That's where we are now. And somewhere here there must be . . .
    something. As I've already made per-fectly clear, it must be below the surface, because if it wasn't, I'd have seen it. In which case, I thought we'd have to spend half the night digging. But that's not the case. All we have to do is follow the footsteps. Mr. Salamanda may think he's clever but he's left us a path."
    They followed the footsteps away from the Jeep and ever farther Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star into the desert. After about two hundred meters, they came to an area where some sort of digging had obviously taken place. The earth was loose. And in the light of the flashlight, the color was quite different.
    "This is it!" Richard said.
    "Yes." Professor Chambers handed him the flashlight. "The four of you can start digging. I'm going back to the Jeep."
    "What for?"
    "Isn't it obvious? I'm going to make the tea!"
    There was one spade for each of them, and together they began to dig. There was barely enough light left to see by. To Matt, it seemed that the other three were little more than shadows. It was still hot.
    After just a few minutes of digging, the dust had clogged in Matt's throat. It stung his eyes and settled in his hair. He could feel the sweat making muddy tracks as it trickled down his face. Pedro had stopped digging. He was now holding a flashlight for the others.
    Luckily the earth, already disturbed once, came away easily. In just a few minutes, they had dug a trench half a meter deep. Meanwhile, the professor had returned with the food hamper and a