tant. Such support framework was insane--in any kind of
spaceship. It had the quality of fairyland architecture, a dream ship
woven from the filaments of spiderwebs.

But there was hidden strength, and truly functional design, as may be
found in spiderwebs. Newlin was no engineer, but he sensed solidity and
sound mathematics behind the toy structure's delicacy.

The stair ladder supported him without vibration, without give or any
feeling of insecurity. He climbed.

Walls and the floor and ceiling bulkheads were rigid to his touch,
supported his weight firmly, despite their eggshell-thin appearance of
fragility. There were no corners; everything fused together seamlessly
in smooth curves. Walls were self-luminous and oddly cool.

The lower chambers were bare of all furnishing. Higher levels contained
a hodge-podge of implements, all in the same light, strong formula of
design. But none familiar, either as to material or their possible
function. There were machines, but all too simple. Neither the bulk of
atomic engines nor the intricate complexities inseparable from electric
or combustion motors.

Newlin was puzzled.

He stopped to listen, feeling like an intruder into a strange world. The
building, or spaceship, ached with silence.

Another stairwell beckoned. He climbed, slowly, with increased caution.
It would do no harm to have the gun in hand, ready. Where was the man
who lived in such a place? And what sort of man could he be? What would
he have in common with the frightened, haughty girl outside? The obvious
explanation no longer satisfied.

As Newlin ascended, another floor opened and widened to his vision. The
stair-ladder ended here. It was the top floor. But this chamber seemed
infinitely larger than the others. At first there was no sight of the
man. Newlin stood alone in the center of a vast area. He did not seem
indoors at all.

Endless vistas extended to infinity in all directions. In all directions
save one, in which stood a tall shadow. Newlin gasped. It was his
shadow, detached, seemingly solid.

Three-dimensional, it stood stock still. It moved when he moved. He
gasped, then found the answer. By the shadow's echo of his movements, he
could trace a vague outline of encirclement.

The walls were a screen, a circle about the room upon which were cast
pictures so perfect that the beholder had illusion of being surrounded
by eery, exotic landscapes. The scenes were panoramic, all taken at the