“But I never saw anything so black as those great globes!”
“They are not anything,” said Stella Eleroid.
“They are simply holes in the continuum of our universe.
That blackness is the darkness of a lightless hyperspace.
“It is through those holes that the geodesies are refracted,” she said.
“They are held open by the achronic field coils in the rings about them.
There are four rings about each globe of force—the three that you see, and a fourth that has been rotated into hyper-space.
“Except for size—miles, to feet—this machine is almost identical with my father’s model.
The controls, no doubt, and the atomic power tubes that activate the field coils, are in the central cylindrical structure.”
“Eh?” murmured Giles Habibula.
“And we may find the Basilisk there?”
“We may,” the girl said.
“But I think not.
The remote-control system would make it needless for him to remain here.
But doubtless the machine is safeguarded.
We may meet some of his robots.”
“But that mortal power?”
The eyes of Giles Habibula rolled fearfully.
“The force that snatches men |way—”
“It can’t reach us.”
The girl toufched her white jewel again.
“So long as this device is intact, and we keep close together.
But if we separate—or it is lost—”
“Ah, lass, we’ll cling to you!” cried Giles Habibula.
“And defend it well!”
Circling the dark mass of the geofractor, that hung in space like an elongated planetoid, they found an entrance valve in the wall of the enormous cylinder between the two black spheres.
No weapon, nor any sign of alarm, met their approach.
Magnetic anchors held the Phantom Atom beside the valve, and the three emerged, clinging close together, in white space armor.
A massive and intricate combination lock stopped them at the outer valve.
“Ah, here is a barrier that could stop all the Legion,” muttered Giles Habibula. His fingers, in their flexible metal gloves, began spinning the dials.
He set his helmet against the heavy door, to listen.
“All the Legion!” he wheezed again.
“But not the precious dying genius of old Giles Habibula.”
The colossal armored door slid deliberately aside, and they came into the great chamber of the valve.
Another lock, at the inner gate, yielded as readily, and they emerged into the mysterious interior of the machine.
Chan’s first impression was of staggering immensity.
A dull violet light, from endless banks of gigantic power tubes, gleamed dimly upon the square masses of huge transformers, black cables writhing like incredible serpents, and the maze of titanic girders that supported all the mechanism.
His armored hand gripped his blaster, but no movement met them.
No living thing was visible.
There was no sound save that from the generators and transformers—a humming so mighty and deep that it became a roar.
Already, with a swift certainty of purpose, Stella Eleroid was leading the way along a narrow cat-walk, out through that web of unknown energies.
Giles Habibula opened another locked door, and they entered a long dun-lit chamber that was obviously a control-room.
Illuminated dials and gauges shone in endless rows, signal lights flashed, signal bells rang, automatic switches made an endless muffled clicking.
Eerily, this room was also empty.
Sweeping it with the muzzle of his blaster, Chan Derron shuddered.
This mass of untended mechanism was somehow uncanny, as if it had been itself alive.
“The Basilisk is not here,” said Stella Eleroid.
“I hardly expected him to be.
But I believe I can operate the geofractor—I was my father’s assistant, until he decided the job was too dangerous for me.
We can disconnect the remote control, and use the search fields to look for him.”