"Then I was here," Temple said, very seriously.
Arkalion smiled. "By George, of course. Then you were here. Temple, we'll get along fine."
Temple said that was swell.
"Anyway, we'd better. Forever is a long time."
Three minutes later, the jet took off and soared on eager wings toward the setting sun.
"Men, since we are leaving here in a few hours and since there is no way to get out of the encampment and no place to go over the desert even if you could," the microphone in the great, empty hall boomed as the two files of men marched in, "there is no harm in telling you where you are. From this point, in a limited sense, you shall be kept abreast of your progress.
"We are in White Sands, New Mexico."
"The Garden Spot of the Universe!" someone shouted derisively, remembering the bleak hot desert and jagged mountain peaks as they came down.
"White Sands," muttered Arkalion. "It looks like space travel now, doesn't it, Kit."