Patrick and I arose early the next morning and paid the landlord for our lodging, and began walking down the street that lead to the frontier. On the way, we bought an ample supply of bread and meats and cheeses along with some fruit, and a few bottles of the local wine. We had been told that there was a stream of pure water not far from the battery.
   Clarence had written a letter that we were to give to the pilot of the vehicle once we met him. When I looked at it, I couldn't even make out any letters I recognised let alone read it. My mind was pondering what language this could possibly be, and it went from there to exactly why he brought up the name of Abraham Fischer, and then to wondering if he were in fact Jewish himself, as his facial features and some of his mannerisms seemed to indicate. And were we really being wise to be following the lead he was sending us off on? Patrick wouldn’t hear of any objections.
   The town was not a great distance from the frontier, but being that it lay in the valley, and the frontier line ran along the ridge of the mountains, it proved to be a long and tiring climb. We reached the first frontier guard post, presented our papers to the guard and walked slowly on.
   Though the two guard posts — that of the country we had just left and that of the country we were thought to be entering — were within sight of one another, both overlooking a deep valley from either side. The trail curved to the right and was partly out of sight of either frontier posts. The two countries had been at peace with one another for quite some time, and so neither guard was attentive to anyone but those immediately approaching to show their papers.
   We went onward, along a road that ran between a steep valley on our left and a rock cliff wall on our right. The cliff wall seemed to extend all the way to the other guard post, except for where a clump of trees hid both the road and the cliff wall from view. From the midst of the clump of trees ran a stream that flowed into the valley between the two guard posts.
   There were obviously no paths leading up the rock cliff, so we entered into the clump of trees with our eyes pealed for any hint of a trail off to the right. Soon we approached a small bridge that crossed the stream. A sign by the bridge displayed a message in the local language of the country we left, that of the country we were entering and a translation in French: ‘Danger! Do not wander from main road. Trespassers will be shot.’
   ‘Are you absolutely sure you want to go ahead with this?’ I asked Patrick.
   ‘Come now,’ he answered. ‘Did you expect it to say, "For flying spheres turn right"?’
   ‘I say the whole thing’s a hoax!’ I said. ‘If you really want to see if a flying boat is going to drift out of the sky, and the old man on the moon’s going to stick his head out and say "hello"; go ahead. This looks too dangerous for me.’
   ‘Maybe the sign was put there by people who don’t want others to know about it.’
   By now, we had come to a small part of the bank beyond the bridge where it looked like one could proceed into the wooded area along the stream.
   ‘If that’s it, those people did a good job covering up their tracks,’ said Patrick.
   ‘If they were here at all in the first place.’
   ‘You really think they were having us on?’
   ‘Come!’ I said. ‘Flying balls? Holidays on the planets?’
   ‘But the old man saw the same thing!’
   ‘The old drunk man.’
   ‘He was sober when he saw it.’
   ‘He was drunk when he told us!’
   ‘But the other gentlemen’s stories,’ Patrick persisted. ‘They all talked about the same thing, and very much by accident — like something they weren’t supposed to say.’
   I just heaved a sigh and threw my hands into the air.
   ‘Besides,’ Patrick went on, ‘would they send us off into a truly dangerous part of the frontier on a lark?’
   ‘I don’t know. He seems to have known some shady characters from my home town.’
   ‘Oh! C’mon! You’re always thinking the worst of everyone.’
   ‘Okay,’ I relented. ‘We’ll see what’s beyond the ridge.’
   At that, we stepped on to the bank, trying not to leave heavy foot prints. Patrick grabbed a handful of dry leaves and sprinkled them on the path after us. It looked reasonably unused. After we went some distance, the path became more distinct. Here, apparently, people weren’t so concerned to cover their trail. It looked like a number of people could have been by here the day before.
   Just as it looked like the stream was coming from the direction of a waterfall, the path veered off and took a gentler up hill route.
   On both sides of us were high rock cliffs, as though we were in a crack in the earth’s surface. We were making our way towards a hill between the two cliffs — or rather, a shoulder joined to the cliff on the right. The stream apparently came from a high waterfall from half way up the side of that cliff coming down to where the shoulder joined the cliff.
   Our path became steeper and steeper as we went, and we were forced to stop for a rest on the way. Finally, the path levelled off at what appeared to be the top of the hill. We couldn’t see ahead, but looking back, we could see where we had come from. The two rock cliffs seemed to join where the trees grew tall, and vines hung down from the cliffs so as to effectively hide the fact that there was actually an opening there. This whole valley was indeed well hidden from any unsuspecting wayfarer.
   We continued on until we came to a clearing. There, in the middle was what could best be described as a battery.* . Only, there were no gun slots. The roof was flat, and there were steps curling around the outside of the round cement structure.
   ‘This must be it,’ said Patrick.
   ‘So we wait for the man on the moon to make his appearance,’ I said.
   I had to admit that it was the perfect place for a camp. The waterfall was indeed near by, and supplied not only fresh water, but an ideal spot for bathing. With our fishing lines, we supplemented our diet with fresh fish every day. The high cliffs all around made for a breathtaking view. Those few days were to supply me with a memory of earth’s landscape that was to last me about six years. To be sure, I saw some magnificent landscapes in other parts of the universe after that, but Earthen landscapes are uniquely Earth.
   The first thing we did was to ascend the steps to the top of the battery, where we found a strange design of coloured stones inlaid into the flat roof. Now, I know it to be a standard landing signal for space ships. We found the iron rod attached to the roof, as we had been told.
   It was now becoming late evening. My first indication that there was indeed more than what met the eye was that when we pulled the rod to upright position, the crystal like stone in the middle of the floor design began to give off a faint glow. In broad daylight, the glow couldn’t be detected, but only in the evening and at night. When we replaced the rod to its original position, the glow ceased. It came again when we pulled the rod up again. In those days before electricity, this was indeed a marvel. Some evenings, Patrick and I would just stand there on the roof gazing at the glowing crystal, and sometimes turning it on and off with the iron rod.