"We're closing rapidly," said Foster. "Another ten minutes, I'd guess...." "How do we go about heaving to, alongside? You didn't come across a book of instructions, did you?" "I think I can predict that the approach will be automatic." "This is your big moment, isn't it?" I said. "I've got to hand it to you, pal; you've won out by pluck, just like the Rover Boys." The ship appeared to move smoothly closer, looming over us, fine golden lines of decorative filigree work visible now against the black. A tiny square of pale light appeared, grew into a huge bay door that swallowed us. The screen went dark, there was a gentle jar, then motionlessness. The port opened, silently. "We've arrived," Foster said. "Shall we step out and have a look?" "I wouldn't think of going back without one," I said. I followed him out and stopped dead, gaping. I had expected an empty hold, bare metal walls. Instead, I found a vaulted cavern, shadowed, mysterious, rich with a thousand colors. There was a hint of strange perfume in the air, and I heard low music that muttered among stalagmite-like buttresses. There were pools, playing fountains, waterfalls, dim vistas stretching away, lit by slanting rays of muted sunlight. "What kind of place is it?" I asked. "It's like a fairyland, or a dream." "It's not an earthly scheme of decoration," Foster said, "but I find it strangely pleasing." "Hey, look over there," I yelped suddenly, pointing. An empty-eyed skull stared past me from the shadows at the base of a column. Foster went over to the skull, stood looking down at it. "There was a disaster here," he said. "That much is plain." "It's creepy," I said. "Let's go back; I forgot to get film for my Brownie." "The long-dead pose no threat," said Foster. He was kneeling, looking at the white bones. He picked up something, stared at it. "Look, Legion." I went over. Foster held up a ring. "We're onto something hot, pal," I said. "It's the twin to yours." "I wonder ... who he was." I shook my head. "If we knew that--and who killed him--or what--" "Let's go on. The answers must be here somewhere." Foster moved off toward a corridor that reminded me of a sunny avenue lined with chestnut trees--though there were no trees, and no sun. I followed, gaping. For hours we wandered, looking, touching, not saying much but saturated in wonder, like kids in a toy factory. We came across another skeleton, lying among towering engines. Finally we paused in a giant storeroom stacked high with supplies. "Have you stopped to think, Foster," I said, fingering a length of rose-violet cloth as thin as woven spider webs. "This boat's a treasure-house of salable items. Talk about the wealth of the Indies--" "I seek only one thing here, my friend," Foster said; "my past." "Sure," I said. "But just in case you don't find it, you might consider the business angle. We can set up a regular shuttle run, hauling stuff down--"