The others followed cautiously down the long slope. At the bottom they paused, glancing back, estimating their distance under the great building above. Then Underwood led the way slowly forward into the darkness of the ancient terminal.
Suddenly, in the glare of his light, distant metallic facets reflected the gleam. He went forward swiftly, swinging the light about. Then he realized they were already in the center of a double row of metallic walls.
He focused the light more sharply.
"Ships!" he exclaimed. "You were right, Dreyer. They couldn't be anything else."
The hangar was filled with row on row of the monstrous vessels, towering ellipsoidal shapes whose crowns were lost in the gloom that was more desolate than the absolute darkness. But the long shining hulls looked as if ready for flight on an instant's notice.
The Earthmen dismounted from the scooters and headed for the nearest ship, eyes searching for a port.
"These are wonderful finds from an archeological standpoint," said Terry, "but they're not likely to contain our weapon because they seem to be strictly commercial vessels rather than warships."
"We can't know," said Underwood. "If there was such a state of Galactic unrest as the conflict between the Sirenians and the Dragbora indicates, it might have been that all commercial ships were armed."
"Is that a hatchway?" said Phyfe, pointing suddenly upward.
Underwood stared in the direction of the beam from the archeologist's flashlight. As he did so, a score of beams flashed upon them from all parts of the terminal. Running figures could be seen dimly in the side reflections.