Frobisher shook his head, “As I say,” he pronounced, “these two researchists are seeking to lay their minds side by side.”
He opened the door, looked in, gasped, and hastily slammed it – though not before da Silva, peering over his shoulder, had emitted an appreciative and rather whinnying chortle.
“As I say, theirminds, ” Frobisher repeated, walking away from the door a bit unevenly. “Perhaps you’re right, Dr. Opperly, we’d best not disturb them. Research is at times a strenuous affair.” He looked apprehensively at the purported representative ofLa Prensa. “I trust, Señor da Silva -”
“Is very good!” da Silva assured him enthusiastically.
Frobisher looked at him blankly, shook himself a bit and said briskly, “It now remains, gentlemen, to give you a glimpse of our crowning project – the one on the roof. If you’ll just precede me up this circular staircase…”
“I think I’ll stay here, Hugo,” Opperly told him. “Touring research can be strenuous too.”
“But I rather imagine Dr. Garnett must be on the roof.”
“Then bring him down.”
As Phil trudged up the musty cylinder lit by tiny bull’s-eye windows, his feet clanking on worn metal treads, it occurred to him that Lucky certainly seemed to have been having a field day here, bringing people together in understanding and love and what not. In fact, it made him rather jealous the way Lucky was strewing his favors around.
From behind Chancellor Frobisher’s fussy voice filtered up. “I should preface this ascent by saying that one of J. J. Humberford’s chief motives in establishing the Foundation was the conviction that mankind will soon destroy itself unless some superior power intervenes. So we feel bound to apply what little knowledge of esping we have gained to seeking such intervention. Even if there is only one chance in a million of contacting a superior power somewhere in the universe, the stakes are so great that we must not overlook the chance. Incidentally, gentlemen, please watch out for the next to the last step. There isn’t any.”
Phil, who was just putting his foot on it, caught himself, took a bigger step, and the next moment was out on the roof. The sodium mirror that orbited around earth was pouring sunlight down, though hardly enough to explain the dark glasses Frobisher handed him and da Silva.
Phil briefly studied the verdigris underside of the saucer topping most of the roof. He noted the flimsy looking beams supporting it and frowningly inspected the tiny penthouse under its center. Then Frobisher was urging him and da Silva up a ladder that led to a small platform next to the rim of the saucer.
Reaching the platform, Phil instantly realized the need for the dark glasses. The interior of the saucer was polished to such a degree that even the sodium-reflected sunlight flashed from it with a pale brown blindingness. He clamped his eyes shut and quickly put on the black specs.
“As you are aware,” Frobisher was saying, “the exact nature of thought waves is unknown. It may be that they move instantaneously, or at least at speeds far greater than that of light. We have yet to get a figure on them, although we have carefully timed thought-casts between here and Montevideo – but the human or physiological factor confounds us. They may not be waves at all. On the other hand it is possible that they are reflected and refracted like ordinary light.”
“Is right,” interjected da Silva, a vague blur beside Phil, who hadn’t yet got over the first blinding glimpse of the saucer’s interior.
“You believe so?” Frobisher questioned sharply.
La Prensa ’sfaun-like representative shrugged his muscular shoulders. “Just guessing,” he said.
“At any rate,” Frobisher continued, “we are working on that latter supposition here. This copper structure is a parabolic mirror. Thought waves originating at its focus are concentrated into a beam which is directed upward into the sky toward any stellar planetary systems which may happen to lie above.”
“Amazing,” da Silva grunted. “Explains everything.”
“What do you mean?” Frobisher asked sharply.
“Just humble before wonders of science,” da Silva told him.
Frobisher nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “Who knows but what the message now being beamed, with its appeal for help from a war-threatened and deluded humanity, may some day or century be received by a truly mature and benign race, which will swiftly come to our aid? By the by, Mr. Gish, watch that railing. It’s broken.”
Phil jerked his hand away from the rusted pipe. “Yes,” he said to Frobisher, “but how do these thought waves originate at the focus?”
“Just look,” Frobisher told him. Phil squintingly studied the gleaming saucer through his dark glasses and it became less of a jumble of highlights. Projecting from a hole in the center of the bowl was a brownish-red blob wearing goggles that looked as if they were made of a darker glass than his own specs. The blob’s lips moved and Phil heard a hauntingly familiar voice saying, of all things, “S-O-S, earth. S-O-S, earth.”
“Our star esper,” Frobisher chortled, “if you’ll pardon a pun of which we’re rather fond. To be sure, it’s thought waves, not sound waves, he’s originating, but it helps him esp if he says the message at the same time he thinks of it. He’s a bit of an eccentric – a religious scholar – but that’s the case with most of our best people.”
At that moment Phil’s vision, buffered by the dark glasses, became quite clear and he saw that the sweating head at the focus of the parabolic mirror was that of Sacheverell Akeley. At the same moment Sacheverell saw Phil and his sunburned top disappeared from the saucer as swiftly as a hand puppet jerked below stage.
“He shouldn’t do that,” Frobisher said sharply. “There’s at least twenty minutes of his duty remaining. Well, I presume you’ve seen all you’ll need for your articles, gentlemen, so we’d best go down.”
As Phil’s foot touched the roof, Sacheverell Akeley darted up to him, sweat pouring off his ruddy-bronze forehead.
“What are you doing here?” Phil asked sharply. “How did you get away from them – Romadka’s friends, I mean.”
“They raced off a couple of hours after Romadka left,” Sacheverell answered quickly. “Got a phone call. Incidentally, Romadka abducted three of our cats. As for me, I’ve worked here for ages. The important point is,” he continued in an intense whisper, “thathe’s here, isn’t he? I mean the Green One. I’ve never esped like this before, even at stars.”
But before Phil could answer, Frobisher and da Silva glanced at them inquisitively. Phil and Sacheverell followed them down the metal staircase.
Reaching the top floor they found Opperly deep in conversation with a man who looked at least half out of this world. He was fat and had a beard, but his dull eyes seemed to be seeing twice as much as he was looking at. Sacheverell tugged at Phil’s sleeve guardedly. “Garnett’s frightfully espy,” he whispered, his lips next to Phil’s ear.
“But Winnie, how do you explain it?” Opperly was saying. “Why all this success with esping, in practically all your projects, all of a sudden?”
Garnett frowned. “Well, there is one unusual circumstance. Our lab technicians claim to have found hormones, or some sort of specialized protein molecules floating around in the air.”
“What hormones?” Opperly asked quickly.
“Well,” Garnett said, “they have had some difficulty identifying them.” He hesitated. “The hormones seem to show a tremendous variability – almost chameleon-like.”
Opperly smiled and threw Phil a twinkling gaze.
“Winnie, do you by any chance know,” Opperly said, “whether an odd animal of some sort appeared at the Foundation early this morning?”
Phil felt Sacheverell’s hand tighten on his biceps.
Dr. Garnett looked around puzzledly. Then his eyebrows shot up. “Yes,” he said, “Ginny Ames found a green cat, a fashion mutant, I suppose, wailing at the door early this morning. We don’t have much food here, but she tried it on some elderberry preserves and apparently it liked it. I believe the creature’s still around.”