The glaring disc was the size of the full moon now, unbearably bright. It lit the plain like a pale blue sun. There was no sound. As it dropped lower, the disc fore-shortened and I could see a dark shape above it, dimly lit by the glare thrown back from the ground. "The thing is the size of a ferry boat," I said. "It's going to miss us," Foster said. "It will come to ground to the east of us." We watched the slender shape float down with dreamlike slowness, now five hundred feet above, now three hundred, then hovering just above the giant stones. "It's coming down smack on top of Stonehenge," I yelled. * * * * * We watched as the vessel settled into place dead center on the ancient ring of stones. For a moment they were vividly silhouetted against the flood of blue radiance; then abruptly, the glare faded and died. "Foster," I said. "Do you think it's barely possible--" A slit of yellow light appeared on the side of the hull, widened to a square. A ladder extended itself, dropping down to touch the ground. "If somebody with tentacles starts down that ladder," I said, in an unnaturally shrill voice, "I'm getting out of here." "No one will emerge," Foster said quietly. "I think we'll find, Legion, that this ship of space is at our disposal." * * * * * "I'm not going aboard that thing," I said. "I'm not sure of much in this world, but I'm sure of that." "Legion," Foster said, "this is no twentieth century military vessel. It obviously homed on the transmitter in the underground station, which appears to be directly under the old monument--which is several thousand years old--" "And I'm supposed to believe the ship has been orbiting the Earth for the last few thousand years, waiting for someone to push the red button? You call that logical?" "Given permanent materials--such as those the notebook is made of--it's not impossible--or even difficult." "We got out of the tunnel alive," I said. "Let's settle for that." "We're on the verge of solving a mystery that goes back through the centuries," Foster said. "A mystery that I've pursued, if I understand the Journal, through many lifetimes--" "One thing about losing your memory," I said. "You don't have any fixed ideas to get in the way of your theories." Foster smiled grimly. "The trail has brought us here. I must follow it--wherever it leads." I lay on the ground, staring up at the unbelievable shape, and the beckoning square of light. "This ship--or whatever it is," I said: "It drops down out of nowhere, and opens its doors--and you want to walk right into the cosy interior--" "Listen!" Foster cut in. * * * * * I heard a low rumbling then, a sound that rolled ominously, like distant guns. "More ships--" I started. "Jet aircraft," Foster said. "From the bases in East Anglia probably. Of course, they'll have tracked our ship in--"