were a Martian."

Arkalion's soft laugh carried far. "I said there was to be no noise.
Please! As for the Martians, the only Martians are here all around
you, the men of Earth. Ahh, here we are."

At the bottom of the flight of stairs Temple could see a door,
metallic, giving the impression of strength without great weight.
Arkalion paused a moment, did something with a series of levers, shook
his head impatiently, started all over again.

"What's that for?" Temple wanted to know.

"What do you think? It is a combination lock, with five million
possible combinations. Do you want to be here for all of eternity?"

"No."

"Then quiet."

Vaguely, Temple wondered why the door wasn't guarded.

"With a lock like this," Arkalion explained, as if he had read
Temple's thought, "they need no other precaution. It is assumed that
only authorized personnel know the combination."

Then had Arkalion come this way before? It seemed the only possible
assumption. But when? And how? "Here we are," said Arkalion.

The door swung in toward them.

Temple strode forward, found himself in a great bare hall,
surprisingly well-lighted. After the dimness of the caverns, he
hardly could see.

"Don't stand there scowling and fussing with your eyes. There is one
additional precaution--an alarm at Central Headquarters. We have about
five minutes, no more."

* * * * *

At one end of the bare hall stood what to Temple looked for all the
world like an old-fashioned telephone booth, except that its walls
were completely opaque. On the wall adjacent to it was a single lever
with two positions marked "hold" and "transport". The lever stood
firmly in the "hold" position.

"You sure you want to come?" Arkalion demanded.

"Yes, I told you that."

"Good. I have no time to explain. I will enter the conveyor."

"Conveyor?"

"This booth. You will wait until the door is shut, then pull the lever
down. That is all there is to it, but, as you can see, it is a two-man
operation."

"But how do I--"

"Haste, haste! There are similar controls at the other end. You pull
the lever, wait two minutes, enter the conveyor yourself. I will fetch
you--if you are sure."

"I'm sure, dammit!"

"Remember, you go without training, without the opportunity everyone
else has."

"You already told me that. Mars is half-way to eternity. Mars is
limbo. If I can't go back to Earth I want to go--well, to Nowhere.
There are too