Foster thrust his legs into the opening, slid over the edge and disappeared. I followed him. I eased down a few feet, glanced back for a last look at the night sky, then lost my grip and slid. I hit bottom hard enough to knock the wind out of me. I got to my hands and knees on a level, gravel-strewn floor. "What is this place?" I dug the flashlight out of the rubble, flashed it around. We were in a low-ceilinged room ten yards square. I saw smooth walls, the dark bulks of massive shapes that made me think of sarcophagi in Egyptian burial vaults--except that these threw back highlights from dials and levers. "For a couple of guys who get shy in the company of cops," I said, "we've a talent for doing the wrong thing. This is some kind of Top Secret military installation." "Impossible," Foster replied. "This couldn't be a modern structure, at the bottom of a rubble-filled shaft----" "Let's get out of here fast," I said. "We've probably set off an alarm already." As if in answer, a low chime cut across our talk. Pearly light sprang up on a square panel. I got to my feet, moved over to stare at it. Foster came to my side. "What do you make of it?" he said. "I'm no expert on stone-age relics," I said. "But if that's not a radar screen, I'll eat it." I sat down in the single chair before the dusty control console, and watched a red blip creep across the screen. Foster stood behind me. "We owe a debt to that ancient sinner," he said. "Who would have dreamed he'd lead us here?" "Ancient sinner?" I said. "This place is as modern as next year's juke box." "Look at the symbols on the machines," Foster said. "They're identical with those in the first section of the journal." "All pot-hooks look alike to me," I said. "It's this screen that's got me worried. If I've got it doped out correctly, that blip is either a mighty slow airplane--or it's at one hell of an altitude." "Modern aircraft operate at great heights," Foster said. "Not at this height," I said. "Give me a few more minutes to study these scales...." "There are a number of controls here," Foster said, "obviously intended to activate mechanisms--" "Don't touch 'em," I said. "Unless you want to start World War III." "I hardly think the results would be so drastic," Foster replied. "Surely this installation has a simple purpose--unconnected with modern wars--but very possibly connected with the mystery of the journal--and of my own past." "The less we know about this, the better," I said. "At least, if we don't mess with anything, we can always claim we just stepped in here to get out of the rain----" "You're forgetting the Hunters," said Foster. "Some new anti-personnel gimmick." "They came out of this shaft, Legion. It was opened by the pressure of the Hunters bursting out." "Why did they pick that precise moment--just as we arrived?" I asked. "I think they were aroused," said Foster. "I think they sensed the presence of their ancient foe." I swung around to look at him.