Ross made his resolve. "If your armies can't find out what Horta's doing, Artana, perhaps my fleet can."
"Your fleet?" Artana looked up, a flicker of hope in his somber eyes. "You mean that you would fly over the Caverns?"
Ross nodded. "And study the work he has done. Photograph it, and report to you and the Queen. If you then wish us to try to destroy it, I'll take the responsibility. I feel that the Council of Seven would approve."
Artana stood up, his eyes alight. "Ah, Ross! If you succeed, and bring peace to the Moon people, your planet and mine will do you homage!"
Ross flushed sheepishly. "Well, maybe. For my part I'd rather be overlooked. You know, there's an old, old saying where I come from, 'A hero today, a bum tomorrow.'"
"A 'bum'?" echoed Artana, puzzled.
"A-a sort of—" Ross remembered in time that there were no beggars on the Moon. Nor panhandlers, nor paupers, nor hobos. "Oh, never mind. We'll take off in the first hour of light, and see what we can see."
"In the meantime," Artana hastened to say, "you must sleep." He ushered them into a circular chamber, the elevator that would take them to the spacious under-world of the Moon. Closing the door, he pressed a button. The resultant motion was almost imperceptible, but Ross and Moore knew they were being hurtled toward the Moon's core at hundreds of miles an hour. Almost instantly the chamber stopped, the shock of cessation being oddly cushioned. Artana opened the door, and the three stepped into the great rotunda whence radiated the life and activity of the Province of Peak Four. Moon people hurried to and fro, only a few stopped to stare at the Earth-men. Bakers were hawking the curious brick-shaped loafs of bread, and the fruits that had grown from the seeds from the Earth were stacked on stands. Drapers stood by their gossamer-like fabrics. Soldiers hurried to and fro in squads, and their presence explained to Ross and Moore the inhabitants' disinterest in the Earth-men.
The spacious chamber to which Artana led them was guarded by two tall sentries, and tastefully furnished. The Lord of the Peaks cast a last glance about, said, "I shall call you at the first light," and vanished.
Moore sank gratefully down upon a high-piled bed. "Well, if this is to be my last night's sleep, I'm going to do well with it."