ilot's seat and a set of controls. Was it an
alien place? But the jelly bath--and the rest of it.... Had his presence
activated that cupboard to supply him with clothing? And what had become
of the tunic he was wearing when he entered?

Ross got up to search the chamber. The bed-bath was folded against the
wall, but there was no sign of his Beaker clothing, his belt, the hide
boots. He could not understand his own state of well being, the lack of
hunger and thirst.

There were two possible explanations for it all. One was that the aliens
still lived here and for some reason had come to his aid. The other was
that he stood in a place where robot machinery worked, though those who
had set it up were no longer there. It was difficult to separate his
memory of the half-buried globe he had seen from his sickness of that
moment. Yet he knew that he had climbed and crawled through emptiness,
neither seeing nor hearing any other life. Now Ross restlessly paced up
and down, seeking the door through which he must have come, but there
was not even a line to betray such an opening.

"I want out," he said aloud, standing in the center of the cramped room,
his fists planted on his hips, his eyes still searching for the vanished
door. He had tapped, he had pushed, he had tried every possible way to
find it. If he could only remember how he had come in! But all he could
recall was leaning against a wall which moved inward and allowed him to
fall. But where had he fallen? Into that jelly bath?

Ross, stung by a sudden idea, glanced at the ceiling. It was low enough
so that by standing on tiptoes he could drum his fingers on its surface.
Now he moved to the place directly above where the cradle had swung
before it had folded itself away.

Rapping and poking, his efforts were rewarded at last. The blue curve
gave under his assault. He pushed now, rising on his toes, though in
that position he could exert little pressure. Then as if some faulty
catch had been released, the ceiling swung up so that he lost his
footing and would have fallen had he not caught the back of one of the
bucket-seats.

He jumped and by hooking his hands over the edge of the opening, was
able to work his way up and out, to face a small line of light. His
fingers worked at that, and he opened a second door, entering a familiar
corridor.

Holding the door open, Ross looked back, his eyes widening at what he
saw. For it was plain now that he had just climbed ou