Craig stepped aside. "Get back to it, then." He motioned with the fire-gun.
The guard shot him a bleared, uncertain glance. Then, shuffling, not quite steady, one hand to the wall, the man moved ahead of Craig down the hall to an alcove backed with twin sliding panels. Clutching the grip of the one on the right, he pushed it back.
Beyond lay a small, square room like a closet, but without floor or ceiling.
The guard stepped across the threshold.
It was as if he had moved out onto an invisible platform. Erect, motionless, he sank slowly down the shaft.
Craig shot one breath-taking glance into the pit, and followed.
Instantly, a pulsing vibrance seemed to grip and hold him. Taut-nerved, he stood rigid, drifting slowly down against the lift of an upward flow of some strange current.
Below him, the guard reached out and caught a metal hand-hold jutting from the shaft's wall, then slid back a panel like the one above and stepped out into a broad hall.
But where the top level had shown stark and bare here lay luxury to stagger man's imagination. The walls were a shimmering tapestry of translucent color. Craig's feet sank into raaltex carpeting so thick and soft that it was like stepping onto a cloud.