“Go,” said Zip. His voice came out as a whisper, which he had not intended. He swallowed and said it again, a little louder this time. “Go on, move out. It’s okay.” The men stumbled forward, filled with awe so overwhelming that it paralyzed their vocal cords. Finally Joe caught his voice. “This is _great_! Wow! _This is GREAT! FANTASTIC!!_” He pushed through the miners in front of him and ran forward about twenty feet. He shouted as loudly as he could. “_HEYYY!!_” There was no echo. His yell disappeared as if it had been damped. He suddenly felt chilled and afraid. He turned back to the others and rejoined the crowd. He sidled over to Mark. “This place is great,” he whispered with a smile. Mark’s eyes were upturned and shining with appreciative wonder. Zip moved to the front of the company. In a quiet but determined voice he said, “Let’s go. We’ll just follow the main aisle, straight in front of us.” He began to walk and the others followed. “Don’t forget the food,” he threw over his shoulder. Two men turned back to retrieve their supplies and then ran to join the others. Joe moved up to the front and walked next to Zip. The Starman leader was setting a brisk pace. “Isn’t this place fantastic, Zip? Just think of the people who can build a thing like this!” “I am thinking of them,” answered Zip. His brow wore the characteristic furrow that showed he was not completely at ease. “What’s wrong?” asked Joe, as if he hadn’t a care. “Something bothers me. Our unseen friends, if they are the ones who built and maintain this asteroid, are highly advanced technologically--far in advance of anything we’re likely to achieve for centuries. But from what Mark told us, it’s obvious that they’re afraid of something. I can’t see that they’d be afraid of Zimbardo and his cronies. They’re afraid of something else, something we don’t know about yet--and that makes _me_ afraid.” He continued his fast pace and Joe kept up with him, but Joe’s eyes glanced into the shadows as they walked. 11: An Asteroid is Missing THERE was a breeze. A very light breeze, a mere breath. Mark could feel it on his cheek, just a slight chill that was pleasant. He had not felt air moving since he had been on Mars. “Surely, the air cannot move in here,” he thought to himself. He lifted his eyes upward. As he expected, the lights failed before they revealed the ceiling immensely far above. “How far?” he wondered. “A half a mile? A mile? More?” The lights looked almost like stars, placed in the strategic joints and balconied work areas of the monstrous iron latticework.