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you really did a job on that ship. I don’t know how we managed to get you out of it alive.”
    “Personally,” I said, getting to my feet, “I attribute it to my great mechanical ability, my unbelievable strength for survival and more luck than any ten people see in a lifetime.”
    He chuckled his agreement and we left the terrace, but going back was an experience in itself. The terrace seemed to grow out of the mountainside, sheer gray rock stretching almost as far up as the ground below was down, and right in the center of the gray rock was a hazy golden doorway, through which the plain bed-room could be seen.

    When we were both back through the tingling haze, Dameron touched the side of the doorway again, and in a matter of moments the doorway was once again a square. I chewed at the inside of my lip as I stared, knowing that you give away how much you know by the questions you ask, but the terrace question was one I couldn’t let slide. When Dameron began leading the way toward the sliding exit of the room, I made up my mind.
    “The view from the terrace was magnificent,” I said as normally as I could as I followed him to the door. “If that’s what’s outside these rooms, I’m surprised you can keep anyone indoors.”
    “I might have had a problem if that was what was there,” he agreed, slowing as he left the room to let me catch up. “But it happens that those terraces are nowhere near this base – or this volume of space.”
    I tried not to frown. “That’s not what I would call an informative answer,” I protested, looking up at him as we walked. he chuckled at the irritation in my tone.
    “I don’t have many details to give you,” be answered, sounding almost embarrassed. “The splinter terraces are something we use, but not because we understand them.” he sighed a little and shook his head.
    “They were looking for a transportation breakthrough and found the Skytops instead. That’s what we call those mountains, and I’m sure you saw why. We built a terrace and anchored it in the rock, then used it as a base for exploration. None of the exploration teams or subsequent searchers were ever heard from again.”
    His face was serious and his voice was quiet, the sort of quiet some people use when they speak of the uselessly dead. He’d stopped in the middle of the corridor and was staring down at the carpeting.
    “Wherever that place is,” he continued heavily, “all we know about it is that the constellations are totally unfamiliar-when we finally get to see them. The days are very long-some fifty standard hours’ worth
    - and the nights correspond. Our people had survival equipment and communication equipment, but we still lost them – suddenly and without explanation. The searchers who went after them were lost to – at a different point. And there’s the last thing to consider.” His eyes came back up to me, holding mine as if daring me to dispute him.
    “Each time a new doorway is put into use, a new terrace has to be built. The terrace is always there after that, but a new doorway means a new terrace, and the view always seems to be the same. I don’t know how many doorways are in use, but no one has ever seen more than the terrace he stood on. You’re welcome to the information I have on the terraces, because they’re something I would personally like to see explained. I had a friend on the first ex-team that was lost.”
    I nodded my head, understanding how he felt, and smiled faintly. “So they’re called splinter terraces because someone feels they’re parallel universes or some such. Do you put much stock in that?”
    “Who knows?” he shrugged, starting to walk again. “It’s always a possibility, no matter how odd it sounds. We use the terraces in bases like these to keep the personnel from developing claustrophobia, but that’s all they’re good for.”
    “You still haven’t said what’s outside,” I reminded him, pacing him down the salmon-colored