They walked into the inevitable screen Vasper indicated, and at once found themselves in a green world, almost jungle-like in appearance, with what appeared to be a mist overhead concealing the sun. There were buildings, all domed and apparently resting upon queer looking cushions. There were paths through trees, palms, hardwood, all sorts of flowers and shrubs, but no streets. Through the foliage people were moving leisurely, but not in profusion.
"What's this, a park?" Jim asked.
"Taval," Vasper answered. It was then Bob, drawn by curiosity, began to study the sky. It wasn't blue, but ashy gray. Then he exclaimed, peering more closely. "Why—we're under a great dome—a mile-high one," he cried.
Vasper nodded, smiling. "That's right. Taval—one of the domed cities. There are others—many. All of the Brotherhood."
Jim found a bench nearby, sat down. "One story houses on cushions. With funny round tops. No streets. Everything under glass, or something. My good gosh, and encore. Why did I ever leave home, or did I?"
Bob joined him. He was excited, and yet strongly moved. His keen, scientific mind told him thousands of problems had been solved here in Taval, that Vasper surely was right about the time element. It would take time to grasp all this. And it was too soon to puzzle why he and Jim had been brought here. Now he forced a smile. "Suppose," he said, "you tell us, in a general way, what it's all about."
Vasper sat down between them, while Jim fumbled for another cigarette. "Who'll win the World Series?" he muttered. "The Yanks, of course. But—and there's Placer in the Belmont, smacking 'em over in the Derby the other day. Placer against Agate Second! What a race. And Tennessee and Southern Cal—and Texas A & M. Will they be out in front this fall? Goshamighty. It happened a thousand odd years ago, all this. And I dunno how it came out. I—" Jim's mouth opened. He slapped his knee. "Great day, Bob. Suppose I could check up on all the Derbies, and World Series, and Bowl games for ten years, and got back. Wouldn't I rake in the dough. Say, that's an idea?"
"There is no money in Taval," Vasper said quietly. "You do your task and you are cared for." He turned to Bob. "We are Americans in Taval. At least," he added, "the descendants of your stock. The machine age you created with the United States as the driving force, eventually brought chaos. That and natural disasters. We had few survivors in the world, by comparison. And then there came Taval, for whom this city is named. He discovered the key that divorced time and space—"
"He did," Bob broke in excitedly. "How? We were working on the theory of overtaking time—by spiraling our speed."