the wall again."

They walked back and the lead wall swung closed behind them. The
soldiers left the chamber.

"Two periods from now," Franks said softly, "an initial investigating
party will be ready to go surface-side. We're going up the Tube in
suits, up to the top--the first human party to leave undersurface in
eight years."

"It may mean nothing," Moss said, "but I doubt it. Something's going on,
something strange. The leady told us no life could exist above without
being roasted. The story doesn't fit."

Taylor nodded. He stared through the peep slot at the immobile metal
figure. Already the leady was beginning to stir. It was bent in several
places, dented and twisted, and its finish was blackened and charred. It
was a leady that had been up there a long time; it had seen war and
destruction, ruin so vast that no human being could imagine the extent.
It had crawled and slunk in a world of radiation and death, a world
where no life could exist.

And Taylor had touched it!

"You're going with us," Franks said suddenly. "I want you along. I think
the three of us will go."

* * * * *

Mary faced him with a sick and frightened expression. "I know it. You're
going to the surface. Aren't you?"

She followed him into the kitchen. Taylor sat down, looking away from
her.

"It's a classified project," he evaded. "I can't tell you anything about
it."

"You don't have to tell me. I know. I knew it the moment you came in.
There was something on your face, something I haven't seen there for a
long, long time. It was an old look."

She came toward him. "But how can they send you to the surface?" She
took his face in her shaking hands, making him look at her. There was a
strange hunger in her eyes. "Nobody can live up there. Look, look at
this!"

She grabbed up a newspaper and held it in front of him.

"Look at this photograph. America, Europe, Asia, Africa--nothing but
ruins. We've seen it every day on the showscreens. All destroyed,
poisoned. And they're sending you up. Why? No living thing can get by up
there, not even a weed, or grass. They've wrecked the surface, haven't
they? _Haven't they?_"

Taylor stood up. "It's an order. I know nothing about it. I was told to
report to join a scout party. That's all I know."

He stood for a long time, staring ahead. Slowly, he reached for the
newspaper and held it up to the light.

"It looks real," he murmured. "Ruins, deadness, sl