He would have stood there a long time staring at this sparkling display, whose meaning he had not even tried to penetrate, had it not been for the sound of quiet voices he suddenly heard behind him. He started in complete surprise. During his first moment of confusion, all he felt was the instinctive need to hide somewhere, but there was no time for that. When he turned around, just a few steps from him were two tall figures-a man and a woman-dressed in long white robes, heading his way, talking in hushed tones.

They had to see him; it was unavoidable, since he was standing right there in front of them, paralyzed and bewildered. But they passed right by him, paying no attention to his conspicuous presence, as though he were completely invisible. He stood there for a long time, immobile, trying to get used to this impossibility, as his temples pounded fiercely.

The figures in white went up to one of the windows that was considerably larger than the others and was unlit and started to touch some of the bumps that protruded under it. The window suddenly lit up, but it did not have the stream of numbers as on the others. It showed something that the prisoner could finally make sense of. The star field seemed far denser, brighter, and sharper but basically did not differ from what he had seen through his small telescope.

But how could the picture in the window and the telescope be the same? What kind of window was that? The answer soon followed, but his readiness to believe took considerably more time. The two people continued to touch the bumps, and the scene slowly started to change. The change itself was clear to him, but he could not figure out how it was done. He would have achieved the same effect if he were to slowly raise his telescope: some stars would disappear under the lower edge, while others would appear above. But here the window did not move at all.

Then he heard something buzzing behind him. It was quite feeble, like the sound of a distant bee. He probably would not have turned around if he hadn't been compelled by the pins and needles at the back of his head--the tension of premonition. Something was going on behind his back, something big was moving.

The heavy, upright cylinder in the lower part of the slit in the dome slowly rose toward the highest point, although he could not see how it moved. It seemed to be doing so by itself, without the help of ropes and a winch.

He caught on to what was going on before the cylinder stopped at an angle of about seventy degrees. So, the tempter had not overestimated him too much. In any case, it was only a matter of proportions here. Even though it was gigantic, the telescope had kept its original shape. What he could not understand was that the eyepiece had been moved. Instead of being the only place it could be, at the bottom of the cylinder, it was on the wall like a big window that everyone could look at.

The picture on it stabilized just for a moment, and then a new change started. The stars began to flow over all the edges as though the telescope were rushing through the air at an unbelievable speed, although it was resting immobile. It penetrated more and more into the dark expanse, reaching for unattainable infinity.

The impression was intoxicating, delightful. And then, as if this were not enough, music echoed. The woman in white went for a moment to a smaller window and touched something. At the same moment, the crystal sounds of heavenly harmony reverberated from all sides. He could not see any musicians or instruments, he could not understand a thing, but he did not care. He was experiencing what one experiences perhaps once in a lifetime: ascension.

The two climaxes merged into one. One point in the middle of the picture started to get bigger, to expand. At first it was a star like the countless ones around it, then it was a circle, then a ring, and then finally it burst into a lacy flower that filled the entire window. The moment it opened its rosy, vaporous petals, the music streamed upward, greeting with an upsurge of joy the appearance of the yellow nucleus--the hidden eye of the Creator himself.

He was not filled with frustration when everything around him suddenly froze and became silent. He knew this would happen, that the watch cover had to open again. The moment of the about-face was perfect. The epiphany had just taken place. Dared he hope for anything greater?