The night was calm and moonless, with a purple sky brilliantly studded with stars. At this height the hum of the great city was stilled. Near by, many buildings towered still higher, but for the most part the roofs lay below, with their chimneys and pot-bellied water tanks set upon spindly legs like huge, grotesque bugs on guard. A block away the roof garden of a great hotel blazed with red and green lights. Spots of light crawled through the streets below, with black blobs that were pedestrians scurrying between them. Occasionally the drone of a plane overhead broke the stillness. Rogers led the way across the roof top, and unlocked a tiny door that led into the temporary board enclosure. Lylda and Loto entered last, the woman clinging to her son's hand. The turn of a switch flooded the place with light. At first glance one would have said it was a modern passenger airplane that was standing there under the canvas--a huge, glistening dragonfly of aluminum color with a long, narrow cabin below. "There," said Rogers, "is the product of Loto's work. What you see from here is merely an adaptation of the Frazia plane--and the Frazia company built it for us. The apparatus flies as any other Frazia plane does; it has the same motors, the same equipment. Its other mechanism--by which the time-dimension, the basic electrical nature of the whole apparatus, and everything or everybody within its cabin can be changed at will--that mechanism Loto constructed and installed himself." "There you go again," growled the Banker. "Let Loto tell it, won't you?" Rogers bridled a little. "I'll tell you this, Donald. That is the apparatus in which Loto is going to cross time into the future. At least you can understand that--if you keep your mind on it." There was a general laugh at the Banker's expense. But Lylda did not laugh. She was leaning against a wooden post, clinging to her son's hand, and staring at that sleek, shining thing with wide, terrified eyes. "Come, Loto," said Rogers. "They want you to show it to them." The young man disengaged himself from his mother and went forward. In a moment the men were scattered about, examining the plane. "You may not understand the Frazia model," Loto was saying. "It was only put on the market recently. It's slightly larger than the average of the older types--more stable in the air, but no faster. The 'copter-type, variable-pitch propellers are powered by a Frazier atomic motor." The Banker called to them. He was standing on a box, looking into one of the cabin windows. "You've got different rooms in here." "Yes, sir," said Loto. "I've divided it into three small compartments according to my own needs." "Can we get inside?" "I think perhaps it would be better not to," said Rogers, coming forward. "At least, not tonight. Loto wants to get started. There is--" "You plan to operate this _tonight_?" the Doctor asked. "Yes," answered Loto. "I am going forward in time, to--"