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kept going down.
    The earthern doors closed tight on the ship.
    This was not a cavern beneath the ground. It was a large city.
    There were at least fifty people in and around that square when the aircruiser landed. Not one of them looked at it for more than a second; no one approached it.
    The citizens of this underground city went on about their business as though nothing had happened. They were young, most of them, all dressed in simple pale-yellow tunics. All of them, men and women, wore helmets of some soft leatherlike material. Each face had a similar expression, a sort of bland, contented smile.
    It was very quiet in this city. The loudest sound, now that the aircruiser had landed, was the sound of footfalls on the smooth white streets.
    Presently three men approached the ship. They wore helmets similar to those of everyone else, but their tunics were black. They stood looking at the aircruiser for several minutes. Then one of them laughed.

CHAPTER 10
    “N o, Dale,” said Dr. Zarkov, shaking his head. “That’s not the wisest course of action.”
    They were standing in the middle of the now empty hangar. “All right, it may not be wise,” the girl said, “but it’s what I feel we have to do.”
    “Listen to me,” he said to her. “I rebuilt that aircruiser myself, checked it out thoroughly myself. I guarantee you nothing can have gone wrong with it.”
    “But something did,” said Dale.
    “Someone made it malfunction,” Zarkov said. “It couldn’t have on its own.”
    “I’m not going to let your vanity risk Flash’s life.”
    “Vanity?” boomed the bearded doctor. “I don’t have any vanity, Dale. What I have, unlike most men, is a very clear and accurate idea of my own capabilities. When I tell you that the ship was foolproof it isn’t a boast—it’s a statement of fact.”
    “Yes, but—”
    “Since I know what the facts are,” Zarkov continued, “I have to conclude some outside force caused us to lose contact with Flash.”
    “He’s crashed,” insisted Dale. “Crashed out there in the wilds of Mazda Territory someplace.” She pointed one slender hand in the direction she felt Mazda to be. “We have to go and find him.”
    “If they can make his ship go down,” said Zarkov, “then they can do the same to us.”
    “I’ve never known you to be afraid before.”
    “And I’ve never known you to underestimate Flash,” he said. “Whatever’s happened, I’m confident he can handle his end of it.”
    “What do you intend to do then?”
    Zarkov was holding the cartridge of videotape in his hand again. “I’m going to, as I promised Flash, follow up this end of the problem,” he replied. “I think I can get to our sound man much quicker this way. Once we learn who and where he is, then we can rescue Flash. That is, if he needs rescuing.”
    Dale turned her back on him. “It doesn’t seem right.” Slowly she walked toward the door of the hangar.
    Zarkov watched her for a few seconds before going back into his lab.
    He heard the hangar door open, then close.
    The doctor frowned, giving his beard a few thoughtful yanks.
    He shrugged and fitted the cartridge into a viewing unit.
    The office was full of robots. They were a glistening copper in color, matching the uncluttered desks they sat behind. There were seven of them in all, each looking very busy and efficient.
    Zarkov stood just inside the door of the transport rental office, scowling. When he bellowed, “Who’s running this place?” his breath came out in a foggy cloud.
    The nearest robot turned his round ball of a head toward Zarkov. “Were all equal here, sir. What sort of transportation do you require? Landcar, aircar, landtruck, airtruck?”
    “Information is what I crave,” Dr. Zarkov said. He watched his expelled breath condense around some motes of dust. “You’ve got all your air conditioners on too high, by the way.”
    “Too high for humans,” admitted the robot. “Here, I’ll remedy that.” He