The audience up top was there again, as if had been the first time. Approaching the entrance to Humpty Dumpty, Jerry worried less than he had before. If it opened, he wouldn’t roast or freeze. That was something, anyhow.

Also not needing to fear that, Steve followed only a couple of steps behind him. A sailor had welded a steel hook to Clementine to give the explorers somewhere to secure their twine. Remembering Kip in Have Space Suit, Jerry made sure he tied his with a square knot.

He stood in front of the round doorway. For a moment, he thought about Anna. He thought about Tim Ishihara, whom he’d known since the third grade. He’d been best man at Tim’s wedding. Tim would have done the same for him by now, only his got put on hold. Not being able to tell Tim the truth hurt almost as much as it did with Anna. One of these days … maybe.

Had he really thought like this the first time? Not in such detail; he’d had too many other things swirling through his head. But the idea had been there, down deep if not on the surface. It must have been, or the door would have stayed closed.

Or he’d just got lucky, and it wouldn’t open now. Time to see. He pulled out the mouthpiece, said “Friend!” and put it back in as fast as he could.

Next thing he knew, the door had opened or vanished or done whatever it did. The way into Humpty Dumpty lay open again. He wondered if they’d caught the moment on film or tape. Not for long, though. Time to see what was what.

When he turned to Steve, the older man was making silent handclaps. Jerry scrambled up into the airlock, if it was an airlock. Then he helped Steve up and in, the way he had before. Poor old fart isn’t so spry anymore, he thought sympathetically.

They went down that first corridor, paying out the nylon line behind them. Jerry wondered what Humpty Dumpty’s proper attitude was. Was he walking on the floor, on a wall, or on the ceiling? Since everything glowed and there were no shadows, he couldn’t tell.

The corridor didn’t go very far before branching. The yellow line still shone on the wall or ceiling or floor to the left. Just beyond it was the opening that led to … whatever it led to.

Jerry pulled out the scratch pad. Let’s go left till we can see what that opening does.

Steve nodded. Still one in front of the other, they walked along the corridor. Jerry photographed the twisting yellow line. He had no idea if those twists carried any meaning, but they looked as if they might.