"We couldn't have come from out there!" said Matzuku wonderingly. "We came out of the Guamian jungles, but our footprints don't start until we reach this invisible barricade." Matzuku turned on me. "I have no right to ask, but what kind of a concentration camp _is_ this? We Japanese have much experience in camps, but we use barbed wire, high rock walls with broken glass embedded in their tops, or dungeons and caves." I grinned at the little corporal. "You don't use energy domes, then," I said, "or compress invisibility into a solid?" "No," said Matzuku, "_do you?_" He had guessed we were prisoners also. I didn't explain. After all, how could I? We three went back to the LCVP. I ordered the Japanese into the LCVP on our right flank, placed a guard over them, not because we had any fear of them, but so they would not hear our discussion. They showed no interest whatever. They sprawled out on the deck of the LCVP and were asleep, and raucously snoring, before we met in plenary session--save for the single guard over the Japanese--near the grave of Yount's skeleton. "Could we really be in the Kalahari Desert?" asked Haggerty. "We could," I said. "The Japs could also be decoys, deliberately sent to us to make us believe whatever we're supposed to believe. I'm only sure of one thing: we're not on Yataritas Beach, Cuba!" "Are we really sure of _that_, even?" asked Captain Haggerty. I had to admit that we were sure of nothing. "We seem to be unmolested for the time being," I said. "But we can't just sit here and brood. Those of you who want to sleep, turn in wherever you like. Those who want to help figure out what has happened to us, assemble here with me and we'll see if we can get anywhere." "You don't suppose, sir," said Krane diffidently, "that we're all--dead, or something? With all those fancy explosives we brought along--" Nobody laughed. Nobody snickered. And nobody drew away to hit the sack. "I don't believe we're dead, Music," I said, "but I could be wrong about that, too. I think your 'or something' comes about as close to an answer as anything we have. Now, I'm open to suggestions as to how we find out what ails us, where we are, how we get out; what, in general, it all seems to be about." "The Shadow Men," said Ziegler, "what were they?" Nobody knew. There was something in the shadows. A smell, and something else. Why didn't the stuff, whatever it was, destroy bones as well? Had we really heard Yount scream inside the shadow? We recapitulated everything we could remember. As if we could forget anything! And it all added up to a nightmare. "The walkie-talkies," said Haggerty. "We've got eighty-odd of them. They can all be adjusted to different wavelengths. I suggest we estimate how many, and then each of us take his share of them, and start sending, not only in Morse and International codes, but in every language we know, down to Greek and Latin!"