I looked across at Foster. "It goes on then with a blow-by-blow account of dealings with aborigines. He was trying to get them civilized in a hurry. They figured he was a god and he set them to work building roads and cutting stone and learning mathematics and so on. He was doing all he could to set things up so this stranger who was to follow him would know the score, and carry on the good work." Foster's eyes were on my face. "What is the nature of the Change he speaks of?" "He never says--but I suppose he's talking about death," I said. "I don't know where the stranger is supposed to come from." "Listen to me, Legion," Foster said. There was a hint of the old anxious look in his eyes. "I think I know what the Change was. I think he knew he would forget----" "You've got amnesia on the brain, old buddy," I said. "----and the stranger is--himself. A man without a memory." I sat frowning at Foster. "Yeah, maybe," I said. "Go on." "And he says that all that the stranger needs to know is there--in the book." "Not in the part I decoded," I said. "He describes how they're coming along with the road-building job, and how the new mine panned out--but there's nothing about what the Hunters are, or what had gone on before he tangled with them the first time." "It must be there, Legion; but in the first section, the part written in alien symbols." "Maybe," I said. "But why the hell didn't he give us a key to that part?" "I think he assumed that the stranger--himself--would remember the old writing," Foster said. "How could he know that it would be forgotten with the rest?" "Your guess is as good as any," I said. "Maybe better; you know how it feels to lose your memory." "But we've learned a few things," Foster said. "The pit of the Hunters--we have the location." "If you call this 'ten thousand parts to the west of chalk face' a location," I said. "We know more than that," Foster said. "He mentions a plain; and it must lie on a continent to the east----" "If you assume that he sailed from Europe to America, then the continent to the east would be Europe," I said. "But maybe he went from Africa to South America, or----" "The mention of Northern sailors--that suggests the Vikings----" "You seem to know a little history, Foster," I said. "You've got a lot of odd facts tucked away." "We need maps," Foster said. "We'll look for a plain near the sea----" "Not necessarily." "----and with a formation called a chalk face to the east." "What's this 'median line' business?" I said. "And the bit about ten thousand parts of something?" "I don't know. But we must have maps." "I bought some this afternoon," I said. "I also got a dime-store globe. I figured we might need them. Let's get out of this and back to the room, where we can spread out. I know it's a grim prospect, but...." I got to my feet, dropped some coins on the oilcloth-covered table, and led the way out.