"All I'm trying to do is to avoid a scandal — if it's not too late."
"I don't know what you mean."
"You know perfectly well. Who authorized your trip to Earth? Who's paying your expenses?"
Duncan had expected Karl to show some signs of guilt, but he was mistaken.
"I have friends here. And I don't recall that the Makenzies worried too much about regulations. How did Malcolm get the first Lunar orbital refueling contract?"
"That was a hundred years ago, when he was trying to get the Titan economy started. There's no
excuse now for financial irregularities. Especially for purely personal ends."
This was, of course, a shot in the dark, but he appeared to have landed on some target. For the first
time, Karl looked angry.
"You don't know what you're talking about," he snapped back. "One day Titan..."
CYCLOPS gently but firmly interrupted him. They had quite forgotten the slow tracking of the great
antennas on every side, and were no longer even aware of the faint whirr of the hundreds of drive motors.
Until a few seconds ago, the upper platform of 005 had been shielded by the inverted umbrella of the next bowl, but now its shadow was no longer falling upon them. The artificial eclipse was over, and they were blasted by the tropical sun.
Duncan closed his eyes until his dark glasses had adjusted to the glare. When he opened them again,
he was standing in a world divided sharply into night and day. Everything on one side was clearly visible, while in the shadow only a few centimeters away he could see absolutely nothing. The contrast between
light and darkness, exaggerated by his glasses, was so great that Duncan could almost imagine he was on the airless Moon.
It was also uncomfortably hot, especially for Titanians.
"If you don't mind," said Duncan, still determined to be polite, "we'll move around to the shadow side." It would be just like Karl to refuse, either out of sheer stubbornness or to demonstrate his superiority. He was not even wearing dark glasses, though he was holding the notebook to shield his
eyes.
Rather to Duncan's surprise, Karl followed him meekly enough around the catwalk, into the welcome
shade on the northern face of the tower. The utter banality of the interruption seemed to have put him off his stride.
"I was saying," continued Duncan, when they had settled down again, "that I'm merely trying to avoid any unpleasantness that will embarrass both Earth and Titan. There's nothing personal in this, and I wish that someone else were doing it — believe me."
Karl did not answer at once, but bent down and carefully placed his notebook on the most rust-free
section of the catwalk he could find. The action reminded Duncan so vividly of old times that he was
absurdly moved. Karl had never been able to express his emotions properly unless his hands were free,
and that notebook was obviously a major hindrance.
"Listen carefully, Duncan," Karl began. "Whatever Calindy told you—"
"She told me nothing."
"She must have helped you find me."
"Not even that. She doesn't even know I'm here."
"I don't believe you."
Duncan shrugged his shoulders and remained silent. His strategy seemed to be working. By hinting
that he knew much more than he did — which was indeed little enough — he hoped to undercut Karl's
confidence and gain further admissions from him. But what he would do then, he still had no idea; he
could only rely on Colin's maxim of the masterful administration of the unforeseen.
Karl had now begun to pace back and forth in such an agitated manner that, for the fist time, Duncan
felt distinctly nervous. He remembered Calindy's warning; and once again, he reminded himself uneasily that this was not at all a good place for a confrontation with an adversary who might be slightly
unbalanced.
Suddenly, Karl seemed to come to a decision. He stopped his uncertain weaving along the narrow
catwalk and turned on his heel so abruptly that Duncan drew back involuntarily. Then he realized, with both surprise and relief, that Karl's hands were outstretched in a gesture of pleading, not of menace.
"Duncan," he began, in a voice that was now completely changed. "You can help me. What I'm trying to do—"
It was as if the sun had exploded. Duncan threw his hands before his eyes and clenched them tightly
against the intolerable glare. He heard a cry from Karl, and a moment later the other bumped into him
violently, rebounding at once.
The actinic detonation had lasted only a fraction of a second. Could it have been lightning? But if
so, where was the thunder? It should have come almost instantaneously, for a flash as brilliant as this.
Duncan dared to open his eyes, and found he could see again, through a veil of pinkish mist. But
Karl, it was obvious, could not see at all; he was blundering around blindly, with his hands cupped tightly over his eyes. And still the expected thunder never came...
If Duncan had not been half-paralyzed by shock, he might yet have acted in time. Everything seemed
to happen in slow motion, as in a dream. He could not believe that it was real.