Back in the bowels of the old terminal, Wilkins found himself emerging from the dark of a drugged, dreamless sleep. Gradually he tried to sort out entirely too many disturbing bits of jumbled memory and new apparent fact. He was lying near one side of the large chamber he remembered entering some unknown interval before. There was no sign of any of the three crafts he was sure they had seen there; he remembered only registering an impression of their shape in the semidarkness, and then nothing. About six feet from him, Priscilla was stretched out on the cold floor. She, too, appeared to be just starting to rouse from sleep. It took some moments for his head to clear to that point where he was struck, and embarrased, by the fact that they were both totally nude.