"I've found something," she said. She was wearing a shapeless fur coat, apparently borrowed. "Come on. You'll have to see it." "All right, but why me?" "Aside from myself you seem to be the only one from the train with any gumption. I know you've been spying around doing things while everybody else sat back and waited for deliverance. Though I can't say I admire your choice of companions. That tawdry blonde--" "Now, really, Miss Jervis!" "Tawny, then; sometimes I mix up my words." "I'll bet." She led him out the back door and across the frozen ground past several buildings. They reached what once must have been an athletic field. "At the far end," she said. "Come on." "Where were you when your boy friend and his daredevil aces came over?" "I saw them." "Did they see you?" "None of your business." He shrugged. They were at a section of the grandstand at the end of the field. Jen Jervis indicated a door and Don opened it. It led to a big room under the stands. "What does this remind you of?" she asked. Don looked blank. In the dim light he could see some planking, a long-deflated football, ancient peanut shells and an empty pint bottle. "I don't know. What?" "Stagg Field? At the University of Chicago? Under the stands where they first made an atomic pile work?" She looked at him with the air of an investigator hot on the scent. He shrugged. "Never been there. So what?" "It's a pattern. This is where they've hidden their secret." "It looks more like the place a co-ed and her boy friend might go to have a little fun. In warmer weather, of course." "Oh!" she said. "You're disgusting! Look over there." He looked, wondering what made this young attractive woman hypersensitive on the subject of sex. This was the second time she'd blazed up over nothing. What he saw where she pointed was a door at a 45-degree angle to the ground, set into a triangular block of concrete. "Where does that go?" he asked. "Down," she said as they walked toward it. "And there's some machinery or something down there. I heard it. Or maybe I only felt the vibrations. It throbs, anyway." "Probably the generator for the school's lighting system. Did you go down and look?" "No." "All right, then." He opened the door. "Down we go." At the bottom of a flight of steps there was a corridor lit by dim electric light bulbs along one wall. The corridor became a tunnel, sloping gradually downward. They had been going north, Don judged, but then the tunnel made a right turn and now they were following it due east. "I don't hear any throbbing," he said. "Well, I did, and from way up here. They must have turned it off." "How long ago was that?" "An hour, maybe." "While we were still rising. That would make sense. We've stopped again, you know. Professor Garet gave us a bulletin on it."