In cumbersome spacesuits, the five Irwadians made their way from the _Dog Star_ to the _Enterprise_. Ramar Chind and his three policemen carried m.g. guns; Garr Symm was unarmed. Chind used a whorl-neutralizer to force the pattern of the lock on the outer door of the _Enterprise's_ airlock. Then the five of them plunged inside the ship. The inner door was not closed. The _Enterprise_ was empty. Garr Symm looked doubtfully at the gray murkiness behind them. Although the _Dog Star_ stood out there less than a quarter of a mile away, they couldn't see it through the murk. "Where did they go?" Ramar Chind asked. Symm waved vaguely behind them. Chind and his men turned around. Gritting his teeth against the fear which welled up like nausea from the pit of his stomach, Garr Symm went with them. At that moment they all heard the music. "You hear it?" Ramsey asked softly. His voice did not carry on the airless world, of course. But he spoke, and the words were understood, not merely by Margot, who could read his mind, but by Vardin as well. "Music," said Margot. "Isn't it--beautiful?" * * * * * Ramsey nodded slowly. He could barely see Margot, although he held her hand. He could barely see Vardin although they stood hand in hand too. The music was un-Earthly, incapable of repetition, indescribably the loveliest sound he had ever heard. He wanted to sink down into the obscuring gray murk and weep and listen to the haunting, sad, lovely strains of sound forever. "What can it possibly be?" Margot asked. Surprisingly, it was Vardin who answered. "Music of the Spheres," she said. "It's a legend on Vega III, my world." "And on Earth," Ramsey said. Vardin told them: "On all worlds. And, like all such legends, it has a basis in reality. This is the basis." That didn't sound like timid little Vardin at all. Ramsey listened in amazement. He thought he heard Vardin laugh. Music. But didn't the notes need the medium of time in which to be heard? How could they hear music here at all? Or were they hearing it? Perhaps it merely impinged on their minds, their souls, just as they were able to hear one another's thoughts as words.... They'd never understand fully, Ramsey knew suddenly. Perhaps they could grasp a little of the nature of this place, a shadow here, the half-suggestion of the substance of reality there, a stillborn thought here, a note of celestial music there, the timeless legacy of proto-man, whatever proto-man was.... "The fog is lifting!" Vardin cried. The fog was not lifting. Then it was. Ramsey would never forget that. Vardin had spoken while the dense gray murk enveloped them completely. Then it began to grow tenuous. As if Vardin's words had made it so. Little Vardin, shy, frightened Vardin, suddenly, inexplicably, the strongest, surest one among them....