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Cooper, Michael D., [pseud.]

"The Runaway Asteroid"


"What's that?" cried a frightened voice.
"Automatic lighting, probably," answered Joe. "When someone moves far
enough away from the elevator, or when its light goes out, the
automatic lighting goes on."
"Follow me," directed George. He led the procession to the right of the
elevator shafts. On one side was a blank wall at least 25 feet high. On
the other were row upon row of crates. Each box had a mark on it, but
none of the Starmen could recognize its meaning. Far down the rows was
the opposite wall of the chamber, at least 200 yards away.
George St. George was hurrying, leading the band of fourteen onward.
There was no opportunity for conversation, but Mark stepped up close to
Zip, who had taken the last position in the march.
"Think what this place is, Zip!" the mystically-oriented Starman
breathed, his eyes alight with excitement. "This was made by an
intelligent, extra-terrestrial race we've never heard of! The Titanians
certainly didn't make it! And whoever made it was shaped just like us!
As George said before, the controls, the beds, the chairs-all are
designed for people like us! Same size! And imagine what must be in
these storage units!"
"I have been thinking about it, Mark," answered Zip. "I'll want more
time later to sift through my impressions, but there are too many
questions here to deal with at the pace we're going.


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