le.

The walls, at least, looked familiar. They seemed to be paneled in some
fine wood. He walked over and touched it.

And knew immediately that, no matter what it looked like, it wasn't
wood. The illusion was there to the eye, but no wood ever had such a
hard, smooth, glasslike surface as this. He jerked his fingertips away.

He recognized, then, the emotion that had made him turn away from the
objects on the table and pull his hand away from the unnatural wall. It
was fear.

Fear? Nonsense! He put his hand out suddenly and slapped the wall with
his palm and held it there. There was nothing to be afraid of!

He laughed at himself softly. He'd faced death a hundred times during
the war without showing fear; this was no time to start. What would his
men think of him if they saw him getting shaky over the mere touch of a
woodlike wall?

The memories were coming back. This time, he didn't try to probe for
them; he just let them flow.

He turned around again and looked deliberately at the big, bulky table.
There was a faint humming noise coming from it which had escaped his
notice before. He walked over to it and looked at the queerly-shaped
things that lay on its shining surface. He had already decided that the
table was no more wood than the wall, and a touch of a finger to the
surface verified the decision.

The only thing that looked at all familiar on the table was a sheaf of
written material. He picked it up and glanced over the pages, noticing
the neat characters, so unlike any that he knew. He couldn't read a word
of it. He grinned and put the sheets back down on the smooth table top.

The humming appeared to be coming from a metal box on the other side of
the table. He circled around and took a look at the thing. It had levers
and knobs and other projections, but their functions were not
immediately discernible. There were several rows of studs with various
unrecognizable symbols on them.

This would certainly be something to tell in London--when and if he ever
got back.

He reached out a tentative finger and touched one of the symbol-marked
studs.

There was a loud _click!_ in the stillness of the room, and he leaped
back from the device. He watched it warily for a moment, but nothing
more seemed to be forthcoming. Still, he decided it might be best to let
things alone. There was no point in messing with things that undoubtedly
controlled forces beyond his ability to cope with, or understand. After