“I grew up in a log cabin. Any place bigger than that is a hotel.” “I don't mean to disparage your home territory, but can you see fishermen and hunters flocking here? That thing belongs in Las Vegas.”

“We're talking North Pole, man. Looks like an overgrown igloo.” Green had to admit the dome had the same contours as the Eskimo shelters he had seen in National Geographic. But instead of hard snow, the surface appeared to be a translucent plastic material. Huge hangar doors were set into the base of the dome, overlooking the open area, which was being built as a plaza.

As they watched, there were signs of new activity. The plaza was becoming busy again. The construction crew had returned, along with more armed men, who could be seen glancing up at the night sky. Before long, the sound of engines could be heard from above.

Then a gigantic object moved across the night sky and blotted out the stars.

“Look at the dome,” Nighthawk said.

A vertical seam had appeared in the top of the structure. The seam widened into a wedge, then the top half of the dome peeled back like the sections of an orange until it was completely open. Light streamed out of the dome's interior and bathed the silvery skin of a gigantic torpedo-shaped object that moved slowly to a position exactly above the vast opening.

“We were both wrong,” Nighthawk said. “Our Las Vegas hotel is a blimp hangar.”

Green had been studying the contours of the enormous aircraft. “You ever see that old news footage about the Hindenburg, that big German airship that caught fire and burned back in the 1930s?”

“But what's something like that doing here ”I think we may find out very soon," Green said. The descending airship sank into the structure, and the sections of the dome moved back into place and restored the round shape. Be- fore long, the doors overlooking the plaza slid open, and a group of men emerged from inside the structure. They were dressed in black uniforms, and all had dark, swarthy complexions. They swarmed around a man whose bullish head was set on powerful shoulders.

The man walked over to the edge of the plaza and inspected the progress of the work. Nighthawk had paid little attention to the workers before. But now he could see that, unlike the uniformed men, these people were dressed in jeans and work shirts, and armed guards were watching them.

“Oh hell! ”he whispered.

“What's wrong?” Green said.

"Those are men from my village. That's my brother and father.

But I don't see my mother or any of the other women."