"It looks like a wall," sang out Opp as they reached the looming thing.
Rokesmith turned the beam of his flashlight on it. "It is a wall!"
Unmistakably, it was a structure made of many square blocks of stone fitted together to form a section rising into the air from a foundation. Weber flashed his light around. "It ends here."
The men hesitated to go around. What could this enigmatic wall be doing on this frigid world? The instruments showed the temperature to be many hundred degrees below zero Fahrenheit. What beings could have built this great wall? What could it mean?
But at last they did go around the edifice, flashing their lights before them. And nearly collapsed from the shock of what they saw: a broad paved street on which bordered many stone houses whose glass windows reflected the dim glow of the stars above. The tiny sun cast a faint illumination on it all.
"People!" gasped Mullins.
There were. Standing on the streets and in the doors of the houses were the dim figures of men. Unmistakably human in form.
"They're not alive," observed Rokesmith.
"At least, they are not moving," replied Barth quickly.