He got out of the car and followed Walden around to the door of the first building. Another man, almost as old as Walden, came toward them smiling. The two men shook hands and stood happily perceiving each other.
"This is Eric," Walden said aloud. "Eric, this is Prior, the caretaker here. He was one of my schoolmates."
"It's been years since we've perceived short range," Prior said. "Years. But I suppose the boy wants to look around inside?"
Eric nodded, although he didn't care too much. He was too disappointed to care. There was nothing here that he hadn't seen a hundred times before.
They went inside, past some scale models of the old cities. The same models, though a bit bigger, that Eric had seen in the three-dimensional view-books. Then they went into another room, lined with thousands of books, some very old, many the tiny microfilmed ones from the middle periods of the old race.
"How do you like it, Eric?" the caretaker said.
"It's fine," he said flatly, not really meaning it. He was angry at himself for feeling disappointment. Walden had told him what to expect. And yet he'd kept thinking that he'd walk into one of the old cities and be able to imagine that it was ten thousand years ago and others were around him. Others like him....
Ruins. Ruins covered by dirt, and no one of the present race would even bother about uncovering them.
Prior and Walden looked at each other and smiled. "Did you tell him?" the caretaker telepathed.
"No. I thought we'd surprise him. I knew all the rest would disappoint him."