Now he saw the cones' bases as well as source; and all at once his heart was pounding, pounding, till he thought that it must surely burst.
For each light played on a separate transparent sphere that floated, somehow invisibly suspended, at eye-level in the bubble-room.
A nude human body lay within each sphere.
Shaking, Boone made his way to the gold-bathed globe.
But the figure inside was that of a man, a stranger, with a calm, vaguely-familiar face.
Boone turned to the second sphere, that on which played the cone of purple light.
This time, he looked upon a woman.
Eileen!
He swayed, still not daring to allow himself to believe it.
How had he found her in this weird maze, this bubble-catacomb? How long had he wandered through dim-lit passageways and domed, echoing chambers? How many times had he despaired?