Snader's "station" proved to be a middle-sized, middle-cost home in a
good neighborhood. Lights glowed in the windows. Jeff could hear the
whisper of traffic on a boulevard a few blocks away. Through the warm
dusk, he could dimly see the mountains on the horizon. All was peaceful.
Snader unlocked the front door with a key which he drew from a fine
metal chain around his neck. He swept open the front door with a
flourish and beamed at them, but Ann drew back.
"'Walk into my parlor, said the spider to the fly,'" she murmured to
Jeff. "This could be a gambling hell. Or a dope den."
"No matter what kind of clip joint, it can't clip us much," he said.
"There's only four bucks in my wallet. My guess is it's a 'temple' for
some daffy religious sect."
They went in. A fat man smiled at them from a desk in the hall. Snader
said, "Meet Peter Powers. Local agent of our bureau."
The man didn't get up, but nodded comfortably and waved them toward the
next room, after a glance at Snader's key.
The key opened this room's door, too. Its spring lock snapped shut
after them.
The room was like a doctor's waiting room, with easy chairs along the
walls. Its only peculiar aspects were a sign hanging from the middle
of the ceiling and two movie screens--or were they giant television
screens?--occupying a whole wall at either end of the room.
The sign bore the number 701 in bright yellow on black. Beneath it, an
arrow pointed to the screen on the left with the word _Ante_, and to
the right with the word _Post_.
Jeff studied the big screens. On each, a picture was in motion. One
appeared to be moving through a long corridor, lined with seats like
a railroad club car. The picture seemed to rush at them from the left
wall. When he turned to the right, a similar endless chair-lined
corridor moved toward him from that direction.
"Somebody worked hard on this layout," he said to Snader. "What's it
for?"
"Time travel," said Snader. "You like?"
"Almost as good as Disneyland. These movies represent the stream of
time, I suppose?"
* * * * *
Instead of answering, Snader pointed to the screen. The picture showed
a group of people chatting in a fast-moving corridor. As it hurtled
toward them, Snader flipped his hand in a genial salute. Two people in
the picture waved back.