t,
elongated shield, sparkling with a million million points of light,
pale gold, burnished copper, blue of glacial ice and silver white, the
Andromeda Galaxy spanned space from upper right to lower left. Off at
the lower right hand corner they could see their space station;
apparently the viewer itself stood far removed in space, projecting
its images here at the globe.

Awed the first time they had seen one of the screens, Temple said,
"All the poets who ever wrote a line would have given half their lives
to see this as we see it now."

"And all the writers, musicians, artists...."

"Anyone, who ever thought creatively, Sophia. How can you say it's
breathtaking or anything like that when words weren't ever spoken
which can...."

"Let's not go poetic just yet," Sophia admonished him with a smile.
"We'd better get squared away here, as the expression goes, before
it's too late."

"Yes.... Hello, what's this?" A door irised open for them in a solid
wall of metal. Irised was the only word Temple could think of, for a
tiny round hole appeared in the wall spreading evenly in all
directions with a slow, uniform, almost liquid motion. When it was
large enough to walk through, they entered a completely bare room and
Temple whirled in time to see the entrance irising shut.

"Something smells," said Sophia, sniffing at the air.

Sweet and cloying, the odor grew stronger. Temple may have heard a
faint hissing sound. "I'm getting sleepy," he said.

Nodding, Sophia ran, banged on the wall where the door had opened so
suddenly, then closed. No response. "Is it a trap?"

"By whom? For what?" Temple found it difficult to keep his eyes from
closing. "Fight it if you want, Sophia. I'm going to sleep." And he
squatted in the center of the floor, staring vacantly at the bare
wall.

Just as Temple was drifting off into a dream about complex machinery
he did not yet understand but realized he soon would, Sophia joined
him the hard way, collapsing alongside of him, unconscious and
sprawling gracelessly on the floor.

Temple slept.

* * * * *

"Sleepy-head, get up." Sophia stirred as he spoke and shook her. She
yawned, stretched, smiled up at him lazily. "How do you feel now?"

"Hungry, Kit."

"That's a point. It's all right now, though. I know exactly where the
food concentrates are kept. Three levels below us, second segment of
the wall. You can make those queer doors iris by pressing the