He glanced to the rear view-plate. Their pursuers hung in space, not to follow, but to bar retreat. There was no turning.... He smiled grimly and snapped the switch to cut contact. They were close now, close enough for Allyn to see the truth. There were no fires, as legend told. Perhaps once there had been a holocaust that pulsed toward the sky and ate of the earth, but now, in the canal, was only the residue, a radiation that reflected upward like heat shimmers. He felt Marva's hand tremble on his, like a frightened butterfly. He caught that hand, pressed it convulsively to his lips, and then they were directly over the radiance. The gyro bucked, and plunged. As a moth it fell toward the light. The shock flung them forward. He sensed Marva's fall, but had no time for thought, other than an involuntary reaching for the controls. He strained to right the possessed ship, working against the siren radiations that pulled it down. Brightness was about them. Skins shown golden, eyes were dazzled. The gyro resisted Allyn's manual commands. Fingers numb with the pull, he fought. Slowly the nose eased up, giving them a precious moment's gain. The gyro shuddered--a doomed thing. He coaxed it further, but again the nose dipped. And again he brought it up! And then--abruptly--the pull was gone. The brilliance faded. They were past the Barrier! Astounded they looked at one another. Bereft of speech or comprehension they could only stare. Save for the swiftly fading light they were as before--unchanged, unscathed. And behind them the Barrier pulsed, with no sign of transgression. "Am I different?" Marva whispered. He shook his head mutely. A hoarse exclamation turned them to the others in the cabin. They too were fully conscious and aware of the unbelievable thing that had happened. They too stared at themselves and at each other, and then they rose, the Numen unsteady in their chains, and scrambled for a look at what lay below. The land was devastated. A twin to the Forbidden Area! Allyn thought he must be mad. Surely they had gone through! And there at the boundary mark was a rotted fence to mark off the Area before the waste land became mutilated forestry. Everything was the same! Everything--but the Gyro-Gard were not there.... * * * * * Then they saw the forest. It was not the same, not the one they had left. It was smaller and terminated in the muddy bank of a twisted river. On the opposite bank were scattered signs of habitation. But such habitation! The style was squat, the material was red oblong blocks set in rows upon each other. There were grain fields. People working in the fields looked up at their passing, and evidenced excitement. People working in the open! Unsheltered by hills or caves! Habitations became more frequent, and soon they flew over the square of a town. A town unprotected by a Nyloplast screen!