"Then hurry. Until three days, then. Remember, the only hope lies in us. Some of us have to make it!" The men separated with only a wave of farewell and the two groups moved in opposite directions across the hot sands. Clouds covered the moon and it grew darker as the four men approached the edge of the mounds. An ominous sense of foreboding fell over them. It seemed they could feel the vibration of the city that lay beneath them. Beneath them lay life--stilted, twisted, enslaved life, but life nevertheless. "Are you sure they don't post a guard?" Johnathon asked. "Against what, the Root-Diggers?" Franz spat contemptuously. "No, they are secure. They need fear nothing." It was another hour before they found the tunnel and entered in single file. Groping their way through the darkness, they finally felt a solid wall rise in front of them. Franz made his way to the left, feeling his way along the wall until he found a large box in a niche in the rock. "It's here! It's still here after all." "Good," Sten said. "All right, everybody up against the wall and push." Karl, the biggest of the men, laughed as he eased his bulk against the obstruction. "It would be real sport," he said, "to move this wall and find one of their Steel-heads waiting for us." Franz snickered. "It wouldn't be sport long, my friend. They're trained from birth to be trigger-happy and there's nothing anyone in Panamia fears more than the outside, or anything connected with it. And we're outsiders." The wall suddenly gave before them and they moved into a half-darkened room. Carefully, in a sort of frozen silence, they moved the wall back into place. The box had contained city clothes; and now the men worked swiftly in the semi-darkness. When they were ready Franz walked up and down making final adjustments in each of their uniforms. As he finished, Sten laid his hand on his shoulder. "Franz, you'll take over now. You know what everything is like here. We're placing ourselves in your hands." Franz shrugged his shoulders almost as if he were disinterested in the drama in which they were taking part. His eyes searched the faces of the men. "So you want women, eh? You want to preserve our race--the glorious animal, Man. Ha! I ask you to ponder for a moment, before it is too late, whether this race is worth preserving. Men have been furthering the race for milleniums and what has it come to? Consider if the earth wouldn't prosper better without Man." The men shifted uneasily. "Forget all that, Franz," Sten snapped. "You know there must be an answer somewhere. This is our only chance. Everything can't be dead."