The drive’s seized up, and not worth repairing.” So that confirmed a suspicion of Duncan’s, which he had dismissed as an optical illusion. The great parabola above him was indeed at a slight angle to all the others; it was no longer an active part of the CYCLOPs array, but was now pointing blindly at the sky. The loss of one-or even a dozen–elements would cause only a slight degradation of the system.” but it was typical of the general air of neglect. One more circuit, and he would be at the platform. Duncan paused for breath. He had been climbing very slowly, but already his legs were beginning to ache with the wholly unaccustomed effort. There had been no further * sound from Karl. What was he doing, in this fantastic place of old triumphs and lost dreams?
And how would he react to this unexpected, and doubtless unwelcome, confrontation, when they were face to face? A little belatedly, it occurred to Duncan that a small platform fifty meters above the ground, and in this frightful gravity, was not the best place to have an argument. He smiled at the mental image this conjured up; whatever their disagreement, violence was unthinkable.
Well, not quite unthinkable. He had just thought of it…. Overhead now was a narrow band of perforated metal flooring, barely wide enough for the rectangular slot through which the stairway emerged. With a heartfelt sigh of relief, pulling himself upward with rust-stained hands,
Duncan climbed the last few steps and stood amid monstrous bearings, silent hydraulic motors, a maze of cables, much dismantled plumbing, and the delicate tracery of ribs supporting the now useless hundred-meter parabola.
There was still no sign of Karl, and Duncan began a cautious circumnavigation of the antenna mounting. The catwalk was about two meters wide, and the protective rail almost waist-high, so there was no real danger. Nevertheless, he kept well away from the edge and avoided looking at the fifty-meter drop.
He had barely completed half a circuit when all hell broke loose. There
was a sudden whirr of motors, the low booming of great machineries on the move—and even the occasional accompaniment of protesting shrieks from gears and bearings that did not wish to be disturbed.
On every side, the huge skyward-facing bowls were beginning to tam in unison, swinging around to the south. Only the one immediately overhead was motionless, like a blind eye no longer able to react to any stimulus. The din was quite astonishing, and continued for several minutes. Then it stopped as abruptly as it had started. CYCLOPs had located a new target for its scrutiny.
“Hello, Duncan,” said Karl in the sudden silence. “Welcome to Earth.”
He had emerged, while Duncan was distracted by the tumult, from a small cubicle on the underside of the parabola, and was now climbing down a somewhat precarious arrangement of hanging ladders. His descent looked particularly hazardous because he was using only one hand; the other was firmly clutching a large notebook, and Duncan did not relax until Karl was safely on the platform, a few meters away. He made no attempt to come closer, but stood looking at Duncan with a completely unfathomable expression, neither friendly nor hostile.
Then there was one of those embarrassing pauses when neither party wishes to speak first, and as it dragged on interminably Duncan became aware for the first time of an omnipresent faint hum from all around him. The cycLops array was alive now, its hundreds of tracking motors working in precise synchronism. There was no perceptible movement of the great antenna’s, but they would now be creeping around at a fraction of a centimeter a second.
The multiple facets of the CYCLOPs eye, having fixed their gaze upon the stars, were now turning at the precise rate needed to counter the rotation of the Earth.
How foolish, in this awesome shrine dedicated to the cosmos itself, for two grown men to behave like children, each trying to outface the other! Duncan had the dual advantage of surprise and a clear conscience; he would have nothing to lose by speaking first. He did
not wish to take the initiative and perhaps antagonize Karl, so it was best to open with some innocuous triviality.
No, not the weather-the amount of Terran conversation devoted to that was quite incrediblel-but something equally neutral.
“That was the hardest work I’ve done since I got here. I can’t believe that people really~ climb mountains on this planet.”
Karl examined this brilliant gambit for possible booby traps. Then he shrugged his shoulders and replied: “Earth’s tallest mountain is two hundred times as high as this. People climb it every year.”
