It seemed that we were squeezed in that cockpit for eternity, although it could not be more than two minutes. Increased glare. It makes every minute detail of the cockpit and our face become clear and magical. The light is as powerful as a searchlight, but not so dazzling. It has the rosy color and diffuseness that searchlights lack.

In that tense eternal waiting, I tried to collect my thoughts. I told myself that I must remain stable and I must keep a clear head. I try to control myself. The lights, the steady flight without power, and the endless terrible silence moved me. But there is more. I knew it. we all know. What attracts us is not physical strength, but tact. We must remain stable. Thank God, all of us have gone through many years of training, including war experience, peace experience, and countless life and death adventures. Forget it now. All of these will help us keep our minds fresh. I thought again, only wit can stand between us, what?

The ground wheel of the plane hit a solid object. Rolling stopped! The light went out. Suddenly it darkened, falling like a thick fur blanket, choking me. At the moment of being blank and panting, I realized there was only one thing. The plane stopped moving. But we did not give up. I am sure. We are still two thousand feet away from the earth as we were in the past!

Then came the sound of running and chaos. The cockpit door was opened. A man leaned over and put his hand on the door frame.

"Inspector Bryce," he said calmly. "Mr. Flatt. Lieutenant Ainsley. We are very happy to welcome you." His words were polite, but his tone numbed my spine. It was cold, lifeless like a metal jingle. It is dull, without life or twists and turns. But there is something else-I can't name it.

I crawled out first at the place closest to the door. To my surprise, it is not dark. We are shrouded in radiance, as rosy as a broad light, but as faint as the afterglow of a sunset. Through this light, I can vaguely see the surrounding environment. We seem to be on a plateau; a large flat space, possibly covering an area of ​​1 acre, is surrounded by a six-foot-high wall. Behind us, there is a wide passage through which our plane just passed. Workers are passing through the passage and dropping some poles made of cement and other materials. Before us, this approximately one-acre plateau was a small dome structure made of the same cement-like material. In the center of the plateau, there is a larger domed building with a part of its roof open to the stars. Through this opening, I can see the dark hint of a big lamp. That is the source of powerful electromagnetic rays!

Flatt and Bryce scrambled to stand beside me. They didn't say a word, but I knew that every feeling was alert.

"If you want to follow me," the cold, expressionless voice muttered to himself. I turned to look at the man. He looks good, clean shaved, and well dressed. He blinked and met my gaze, and he did the same, and the same chill was dissipated along my spine. His eyes-what happened to them? They are dark brown or black and shiny like shoe buckles. But there was no expression among them. Their light is the sparkle of polished glass.

Without a word, we followed him through the narrow space where the plane was parked, past a row of small dome-like structures, to the low door of the white wall of the central building. At the door, he turned around.

He said: "I will take you to see the master." Then, on his shoulder, he added. "There is no way to escape-we are two thousand feet away from the earth!" Then he laughed-a short, crazy laugh. I felt my breath in my throat, short hair stinging in my neck. Flatt grabbed my arm. Through my coat, I can feel his fingers feel cold, but his grip stabilizes me.

We follow our guidelines to move on. Along the narrow passage, through a low arched door, enter a small room, which is obviously an antechamber, leading directly to a larger room. Our guide left us without saying a word and passed through another door, which he closed shortly after.

He and I exchanged glances, but we remained silent. It may be that we have been monitored. It may happen that there are ears on the wall. We can't believe anything.

Our tour guide is back. "Master," he said, suddenly opening a door.

^ I found myself in a large room full of various utensils: wires, lamps, tables, laboratory test tubes and messy equipment, and ordered a person standing in the chaos, his eyes gleaming watching us fix.

At first, I only knew his eyes. Large anthracite black, shiny, with the unique, expressionless sheen I have seen in the guide. Later I realized that he was short and neat, with a black wax beard and a well-trimmed beard.

"Welcome to my floating island," he said solemnly, never turning those shiny eyes. "We hope you can come." He stopped, rubbing his hands silently, looking at us. We stared at the smooth, fixed gaze, looking back. He continued: "There are many things to tell you, and I want to ask you." He smiled slowly, opened his lips, but failed to open his eyes. He continued: "During your stay, I hope this will be long and profitable. You will become my slave and know me as the master. But before you are ruled by me, you may know my name. "

He moved his eyes for the first time. His eyes swept across the room, seeming to assure himself that we were alone. He stepped across the door we entered quickly and softly like a cat, opened it, talked to our guide waiting in the lounge, closed the door, and returned. He faces us, his lips are smiling, his eyes are as blank as polished agate.

"My name," he said softly, "It's Algernon Frederick Fraser!" He stopped and looked at us. Behind me, I felt Follett started. I heard panting quickly. My own throat shut the words that might be fatal. Algernon Frederick Fraser! Is it possible?

Five years before Fraser suddenly broke into the world of science. He made some amazing discoveries in the power of light. Will reorganize the discovery of the world’s living conditions. For a week or two, the newspapers were flooded with the man's amazing genius. Then I never heard from him again. Is he dead? What is this story?

Niubi years have passed, and Frazerian's name has been forgotten. Then suddenly, it broke out again in the headlines of the world. Fraser is gone! Fraser disappeared! But this is not scientific genius. He has escaped and became a lunatic! After his reputation plummeted, his heart beat. This story was not reported by the media for some reason.

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