CHAPTER VThe Null Sphere
JOHN LUX lay there for a long time, weak and groggy. He had vomited up all the river water he had swallowed, in painful, racking spasms that left him exhausted. Eventually he dragged himself to his feet and looked around, bemusedly.
The ground around him was composed of low, rolling hummocks that only the most charitable could describe as hills. The soil was dry and parched, breaking, here and there, into low brush like gorse or heather. The sky was leaden and colorless, reflecting his own drained, enervated mood.
He was soaked to the skin, his suit was a sodden mess, and he was cold and miserable. Hungry, too; hungrier than he had been upon leaving the hotel. The rain seemed to have stopped, and the sun lay low in the west—at least, he assumed it must be the we
