I had anticipated that they would show me a vehicle similar perhaps to the huge and elaborate space-flyers in the service of our Interplanetary Postal Division. But instead of taking me to the workshops where I had conceived it to be lying--serene, glistening with newness, intricate with what devices for its changing of size and Time-rate I could not imagine--instead of this they took me into the house. And there, in Dr. Gryce's quiet study with its sober, luxurious furnishings and his library of cylinders ranged in orderly array about the walls, I saw not one but four machines--mere models standing there on the polished table-top. Four of them identical--all of a milk-white metal. But they were models complete in every detail. I stood beside one, regarding it with a breathless, absorbed interest as Dr. Gryce commented upon it. A cube of about the length of my forearm in its three equal dimensions, with a cone-shaped tower on top--a little tower not much longer than my longest finger. The cube itself had a rectangular doorway, and in each face two banks of windows. The door slid sidewise, the windows were of a transparent material, like glass. Midway about the cube ran a tiny balcony at the second-story level. It was wholly enclosed by the glasslike material. It extended around all four sides; small doors from it gave access to the cube's interior. The cone on top also had windows, and its entire apex was transparent. I bent down and peered into the lower doorway. Tiny rooms were there. Bedrooms; a cookery--a house complete, save that it was wholly unfurnished. The largest room on the lower story--its floor had a circular transparent pane in it--was fitted with a seemingly intricate array of tiny mechanisms all of the same milk-white metal. A metallic table held most of them; and I could see wires fine as cobwebs connecting them. And in a corner of this room, a metallic spiral stairway leading to the upper story. Dr. Gryce said, "That is the instrument room, complete. It contains every mechanism for the operation of the vehicle. We made it in this size--large enough to facilitate construction, but it is small enough to be economical of material. This substance--we have never named it--is of our own isolation. It is expensive. I'll explain it presently. . . . That room beside the instrument room is where we will put the usual everyday instruments necessary to the journey. Oxygen tanks--the apparatus for air purification and air renewal; telescopes, microscopes--my myrdoscope--all that sort of thing we can best obtain in its normal size. Those--and the furnishings--the provisions--all those in their normal size we will put into it later." "You mean," I asked, "this is not a model? This is the actual vehicle?" "Yes," he smiled. "But there are four of them." "We made six, Frank. It was advisable, and not unduly difficult to duplicate the parts in the making. The assembling took time----"