We saw a port open in that largest central globe—a faint dark dot.
We saw the four drifting sparks converge and wheel outside it. We saw them enter and vanish one by one.
We saw the dot disappear.
“That valve is fifteen hundred feet across,” Star said.
“Among the instruments around it is a tube which I suppose is a wave-guide for signals from an outside antenna.
That’s the entrance Giles found for us.”
A new respect drew my eyes to old Habibula.
He had opened a can of caviar.
Using a small pocket tool that combined opener and spoon, he was stuffing the little black eggs into his mouth.
He belched.
“A desperate adventure!”
His rust-colored eyes blinked across the table.
“I’ve risked my precious life ten thousand times in faithful service to the Legion.
But I’ve never endured such a dreadful time as this!”
“Giles does possess special skills,” Star agreed briskly. “Without them, we should certainly have failed.”
“But never did my genius face such a fearful trial!” old Habibula moaned.
“You know my hard-earned arts have helped me solve some frightful problems for mankind.
I entered the black city of the evil Medusae!
I unlocked the inner world of the monstrous Comet-eers!
I solved the deadly riddle of the Basilisk!
But never was a time so mortal black as this!”
He paused to gulp from a tilted bottle.
“Beyond the anomaly, we came into a fearful universe you’d never imagine. A black and dreadful world where human life has no right to be.
But for my precious genius, we should both have died there.”
“Even with all Giles’ peculiar aptitudes, we very nearly did.”
Ken Star stood watching the shadowy image of that appalling machine.
When I began asking, a little wildly, what they had found beyond the anomaly, his withered hand lifted impatiently to cut me off.
“We’ve been gone too long,” he muttered rustily.
“I’m too tired— and too much has happened.
When we found the station here, I was hoping we were safe.
But now, since we’ve run into an anomaly in time, I’m afraid we’ve no leisure for any connected narrative.”
“But—Ken!”
Lilith’s voice was dry with dread.
“Can’t we do—• anything?”
“Nothing.”
His old voice was slow with dull despair.
“Nothing we haven’t done.”
“Your theory did prove out?” I insisted.
“You did come through into another space and time?”
“I’ll tell you what I can.” He nodded stiffly.
“In whatever time there is.”
“Come.” Old Habibula waved a bottle of his precious wine. “Sit.
If we are doomed to die like vermin in a blessed sterilizer—let’s not die famished!”
We joined him at the table, where once I had presided at meetings of the station staff.
Habibula handed around his bottle of wine, his flat shallow eyes watching jealously.
Lilith and I let it go by.
We all looked at Ken Star.
“Captain, we followed your proposed path into the anomaly.”
Ken Star took the bottle and sipped lightly.
“With the rockets dead, we let the capsule drift at the angle and velocity you had computed.