It was a chamber such as Boone had never seen before—a great, bare bubble-room whose very walls radiated chill white light.
Lurching to his feet, he stumbled down from the tumbled earth.
Two steps he took. And then, incredibly, he could go no further, for out of nowhere, a new bubble, crystal clear and barely large enough for him to stand erect, had formed around him.
He spun about.
Like him, Eileen stood in a solitary global prison. Stiff-faced with fear, she gestured to him—helpless, hopeless.
He hammered at the shimmering wall in furious frenzy. But to no avail. The casing gave no more than had that of the cell in which he and Eileen had come.
His sphere began to move away from Eileen's, then. Like a huge ball it rolled, spinning out in an arc that carried it through some unseen exit that led from the chamber of chill white light.
Darkness again.
But only briefly, this time. Then, once more, the globe halted. New light came, a warm and golden glow.