Foster groaned, opened his eyes. "Where are ... they?" he muttered. "Take it easy, Foster," I said. "You're OK now." "Legion," Foster said. He tried to sit up. "The Hunters...." "I worked them over with the flashlights. They're gone." "That means...." "Let's not worry about what it means. Let's just get out of here." "The Hunters--they burst out of the ground--from a cleft in the earth." "That's right. You were half-way into the hole. I guess that's where they were hiding." "The Pit of the Hunters," Foster said. "If you say so," I said. "Lucky you didn't go down it." "Legion, give me the flashlight." "I feel something coming on that I'm not going to like," I said. I handed him the light and he flashed it into the tunnel mouth. I saw a polished roof of black glass arching four feet over the rubble-strewn bottom of the shaft. A stone, dislodged by my movement, clattered away down the 30° slope. "That tunnel's man-made," I said. "And I don't mean neolithic man." "Legion, we'll have to see what's down there," Foster said. "We could come back later, with ropes and big insurance policies," I said. "But we won't," said Foster. "We've found what we were looking for--" "Sure," I said, "and it serves us right. Are you sure you feel good enough to make like Alice and the White Rabbit?" "I'm sure. Let's go." * * * * * Foster thrust his legs into the opening, slid over the edge, 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, and found myself lying on a level 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 got 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, Hell," I said. "This place is as modernistic as next year's juke box."