"Suppose I refuse?" he thought.
"I'm afraid that you underestimate the range of effect of this weapon." The Alien brandished the cylinder again. "Follow me."
Saxon capitulated, touched Ileth. "Keep in contact with me. I'll guide you." He began to move after the stranger who was already at a distance.
He didn't know how long they walked. Time had no expression in this state. Alpha Centauri A hung always in the same spot just above the horizon. He thought of Villainowski's inverted formula—"To travel through time during a passage of space." The Little Death must be like this, if one were conscious.
He was still turning it over in his mind when he perceived the station.
The station appeared to be a cubical structure like a large plastic block, except that the matter of which it was formed wasn't matter at all. It was energy, Saxon sensed, pulsating sheets of energy that must not be visible in the normal, three-dimensional world.
The Alien stood to one side, motioned them through the shimmering walls.
Saxon was conscious of a throbbing rhythm which swept through him like the hum of a dynamo. He experienced the eerie giddiness for the second time and groped for Ileth before he blanked out.
This time Saxon was longer regaining consciousness. He came out from under the effects of the pulsation, feeling his flesh solid again. Air warmed and caressed his skin. He was materialized, he saw, as he leaped to his feet and opened his eyes.