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“He died,” said Tony to Ransdell and the other people with him, “standing in the trailer, thanking God, and staring at the city.”
“Like Moses,” said Ransdell. “A single glimpse of the Promised Land.”
“Like Moses.” Tony looked with astonishment at the man. He had not imagined Ransdell as a reader of the Scriptures.
“We must go on. He’d want it,” said Williamson.
Tony nodded. “The first van has left for your camp?”
“Yes.”
“And the second?”
“Fifteen minutes ago.”
“It is about four miles from the road to your camp. But I think those tractors can pull all the way in. They’ll bring nothing but people—and they’ll be able to accommodate every one.” He looked at his watch and pondered. “They should be here before daybreak. Now—I don’t know about the power and light in these cities. Von Beitz, suppose you take another man and start an investigation of its source. We’ll want to know that. The other city I investigated had enormous subterranean granaries and storehouses. Williamson—you search for them. Jack—you take care of housing.”
“We’ve been working on that,” said Ransdell. “There’s ample room already available—for your people and mine.”
“Good. Water?”
“We’ve located the main conduits. They’re full. The water’s apparently fresh. We’ve turned it on in this building. We’re running a set of fountains in the rear court and filling a swimming-pool to be sure it is fresh.”
“Right.—Shirley, find Kyto and arrange for a meal at daybreak. Prepare for five hundred—we’re almost that many.”
Shirley left.
Hastily Tony dispatched others from his improvised headquarters. Soon he was alone with Ransdell.
“I got your signal,” he said. “You wanted every one cleared out but me. Why?”
Ransdell glanced at the door. “For a good reason, Tony. I’ve got something important to tell you.”
“What?”
“There’s somebody else in this city.”
Tony smiled. “I know that feeling. James and I had it. You get used to it.”
Ransdell shrugged. “I’m not queasy—you know. I don’t get those feelings. Here’s my evidence: I drove the first caravan. When I reached the gates, I saw something whisk around a distant building. It might have been a man—it might have been the end of one of these little automobiles.… Then, after I’d started things going, I took a walk. I found this.”
He handed Tony a half of a sandwich. A bite had been taken out of it—a big bite. The other half and the filling were missing. But the bread was fresh.
Tony stared at it. “Good Lord!”
“That bread would be stale in twelve hours, lying as it was on the street.”
“Anything else?”
“This building was open. The others were shut. We used your instructions for getting into them. But in here, things were—disturbed. Chairs, tables. There was a ball of paper on the floor of this room. Nothing on it.” Ransdell produced a crumpled sheet of paper.
“The Other People had paper,” Tony said.
“Not paper watermarked in English.”
Tony walked around the room, pondering this. “Well?”
“There can’t be many people. Since we arrived, ever since I found the sandwich, I’ve been conducting a search. So have five other small posses. Nothing was discovered, however.”
