And Lakla and Larry and I were, I saw, like shadow shapes upon a smooth breast of stone twenty feet or more above the surface of this place⁠—a surface spangled with tiny white blossoms gleaming wanly through creeping veils of phosphorescence like smoke of moon fire. We were shadows⁠—and yet we had substance; we were incorporated with, a part of, the rock⁠—and yet we were living flesh and blood; we stretched⁠—nor will I qualify this⁠—we stretched through mile upon mile of space that weirdly enough gave at one and the same time an absolute certainty of immense horizontal lengths and a vertical concentration that contained nothing of length, nothing of space whatever; we stood there upon the face of the stone⁠—and still we were here within the faceted oval before the screen of radiance!

“Steady!” It was Lakla’s voice⁠—and not beside me there , but at my ear close before the screen. “Steady, Goodwin! And⁠—see!”