"That would be nice. They probably will anyway." "No, no. Everything's hunky-dory now, so long as you co-operate. We go to my hangout now and I'll give you the dope." So cocksure was the man that Bonwitt's ire rose dangerously. He controlled himself with an effort. He'd have to find out what was what, pretend compliance with any plan, and--wait. Peterson's hangout, as he had termed it, was a drafting room and office combined. The desk and drawing table were of curious Lunar construction. There were a few chairs and a filing cabinet. Maps and drawings on the walls. Maps of Earth and Luna; drawings of queer machines and structures. One was a cross-section of the moon as Bonwitt was beginning to know it existed. The core, the inner sun, was not central, he saw. "Look, Bill." Peterson poked a thick finger at this drawing. "Here's where we are; four hundred miles under the crater called Nemesis." "Four hundred--" Bonwitt gaped, seeing the vertical shaft on the drawing, piercing its way upward through tunnel and many bearings to the surface, "--impossible!" "So I thought in the beginning. But much is possible here. That shaft, for instance. The Selenites have its weight almost completely nullified with anti-gravity forces. They know something, the devils." "But the sun, or whatever it is, isn't pictured central. In fact, it seems to contact one side of the moon's central cavity." "Naturally. That's why the same face of Luna is always towards Earth; it's on the heavy side, of course. Here, sit down, Bill." Peterson indicated a chair, which Bonwitt took. "And," continued the ex-super, "that sun, as you call it and as it properly is, can be shifted from normal position. That's what was done last night; that's why Luna shifted on her axis. A test. I knew, of course, but pretended ignorance back on the other side. Now you're in it, I can tell you. "The brown men are native to the moon but not to our solar system. Their ancestors inhabited the body's surface when it had an atmosphere and was warm in the light of a distant sun. They burrowed when they learned their planet was to be hurled into space by a cataclysm which was to break up its solar system. And when, in the distant past, their world was captured by ours as a satellite, they had to remain beneath the surface. They burrowed deeper, found this inner realm, this world within a world. The inner sun then was still quite hot; it yet holds nearly enough heat for their comfort and sustenance. "Through countless ages, this race has been dissatisfied. They wanted to live outside as did their forbears, but could only go to the surface in space-suits. They began planning a migration to Earth. The huge motor, the shaft, the crater, are the results. The means." "To migrate?" Bonwitt was incredulous. "Yes." "Peaceful, or warlike, this migration?" "They plan peace if possible, war if necessary." "And you--where do you fit in? Are you one of these guys who wants to save our world?"