Through a throbbing, pain-racked darkness, light came down to me,
stronger and stronger. There was a dull, monotonous sound that seemed
to float down to me from great heights. I turned, struggled, opened my
eyes.
I was lying on a soft mat, set on a low, narrow platform of metal.
Above me was a high, white ceiling, and as I half-raised myself on one
arm, I was able to survey the rest of the room in which I lay.
It was a bright, airy room, white-walled and sunny. At one end of it
were high, open windows, without glass or shutter, and through them
streamed the sunlight and the soft air. Except for the bed on which I
lay, and two metal chairs of simple design, the room was quite bare,
but it was an austere, clean bareness that was pleasing to the eye.
Now memory rushed back to me, and sudden fear came with it. Where was
Lantin? Had he survived the crash? I began to struggle up from my
reclining position, but sank back for a moment as a door in one of the
walls slid aside, and a man entered the room.
Tall and commanding of appearance, with dark hair and clear youthful
face, yet something about the eyes stamped him as a man of middle age,
almost elderly. He was dressed in a short white tunic, bordered with
three narrow stripes of purple. When he perceived that I was awake and
regarding him, he paused for a moment in surprize, then came on toward
me.
A friendly smile illumined his face as he spoke to me, in the Kanlar
tongue.
"You are awake, Wheelaire? And your friend, too, has just awakened."
"Lantin!" I exclaimed. "He is all right? He was not hurt?"