In the distance rose the mass of the central island. From his new perspective he could see that it was truly an island, and that if this world boasted any major landmasses, none lay within range of the naked eye. The bulbous outline of the asteroid-ship was just visible off to the right of the central peak. In opposite directions, other islands thrust up from the seabed. Their mysterious spires glistened in the diffuse sunlight.
An impressive body of ocean lay between the main island and his present position. He hoped fervently that the spherical transport system would respond a second time to his presence, and that he would not be required to swim back. While the water might be warm, he had no way of predicting the strength of local currents, and it was unlikely that so placid and nurturing a sea would be devoid of highly evolved predators. They might find his taste strange and his flesh unpalatable, but by the time they figured that out, it wouldn’t matter to him.
No, the sphere offered a much more reasonable means of return.
I’m getting old, he thought, but I wouldn’t mind getting a little older. With that in mind he turned to study the spire that dominated this island as it did its companions. It thrust sharply skyward, defying the elements, a wonderfully organic testament to the aesthetic as well as the engineering talents of its builders. Not some hollow monument but a fully functional structure, it tapered to a point several hundred feet above the ground. The wondrous alloy of metal and glass shimmered in the sunlight, in color a pale gold. Champagne, Low thought. As a scion of the House of NASA he’d had to deal with plenty of advertising and PR people.
A few swirls of color, rose and pink, blushed the lower levels. In bright sunlight it would be almost too harsh to look at. Native vegetation grew right up against the sleek walls. One bush boasted tiny blue pustules that throbbed in and out. He decided to give it plenty of clearance. Dangerous plants as well as dangerous animals often flaunted an innocent appearance designed to lull potential prey into too-close examination of their false beauty.
In response to his approach the distinctive reddish ground-cover seemed to contract in upon itself to avoid being stepped on. Motion-responsive elastic stems, he wondered, or some other as yet unknown alien phenomenon? Alongside archaeology he added botany to the list of subjects he wished he’d studied more deeply in college.
Back inside the spire, he began to examine more closely the bulges in the walls and, in particular, various alien devices that rested inanimate in corners or clustered together on the bare floor. Some were encased in flowing transparent cocoons fashioned of material like spun sugar. These proved impervious to his touch.
Glowing labels hovered above or in front of many displays like convocations of fireflies participating in some lampyridaecous military tattoo. They shifted and turned with him so that they were always visible no matter where he happened to be in the room. In addition to the ambient light that emanated from the walls and floor, the cases generated their own internal, slightly more intense variety of illumination.
Low speculated on the possible functions of their contents. Some resembled household utensils, others peculiar weapons. There were cases that featured educational displays and others battered equipment that might represent the local equivalent of historical preservation. None took the shape of something that might have been designed by human hands. Even the smallest object displayed in its design a marked aversion to sharp angles.
There was very little duplication, and everything was clearly intended to fulfill a specific purpose. Now, if only, he mused, I could find a label that reads, “Interstellar Transport, Key, for the Activation Of.”
While nothing so obvious presented itself to his searching eyes, he did come across several entrancing examples of alien design. Most notable was an egg-shaped lump of green crystal. On Earth he would have suspected tsavorite, emerald or chrome tourmaline, in that order. For all he knew, here it might well be composed of petrified alien blood.
It wasn’t very big, about the size of a paperback book. More impressive was the method of display. Instead of lying on a shelf or standing in the grasp of a special mount like so many of the other exhibits, the crystal floated in suspension within a glassy, transparent sheath. Furthermore, it glowed softly from some internal source.
As he walked around the display, the crystal pivoted slowly to follow him, as if possessed of some curious inanimate life of its own. More than its sheer physical beauty, the mechanics of its suspension attracted him.
It probably would have gone no farther than that: a few moments of casual admiration for still another marvel of Cocytan engineering. Except that instead of walking away he leaned forward, resting his hands on the transparent case while he sought a slightly better look.
Images materialized in front of his eyes, sharper and clearer than any holographic projection he’d ever experienced. He stepped back sharply, then lingered to watch. In addition to the visuals, there was an accompanying narration or musical score (he couldn’t tell which). It filled his portion of the chamber with a fluid, tenorous singsong. It was soothing to the ears, and he wondered if it was language or music. Not that it mattered. If the former, it remained utterly incomprehensible.
Of more interest was the succession of images, which showed the green crystals employed in various tasks. Apparently they were some sort of general repair-and-relief device. He never saw any Cocytans themselves, only crystals and their applications.
He watched as crystals repaired broken machinery, renewed faded artworks, purified water, fulfilled a dozen other unrelated functions and, most significantly, were shown reviving or treating the wounds and diseases of several alien life-forms. When the demonstration, or instruction manual, had run its course, the last image faded.
He’d obviously activated the performance when he’d leaned against the case. Perhaps repeating the gesture and contact would trigger similar displays in other cases.
That could come later. Right now he was interested only in the incandescent crystal and what he’d learned about it. If it could invigorate crops and revive alien animals, what might it do for an injured friend? Well, more than injured, but still….
How could he gain possession? He walked completely around the freestanding case, searching for signs of alarms, booby traps or hidden connections. Seeing none, finding none, he steeled himself and reached out a second time, intending to test the solidity of the case directly in front of the crystal.
His hand passed through what felt like silver gelatin. Fingers contracted around the crystal’s sheath. It was warm to the touch, but not unpleasantly so. When the case did not react, either by slicing off his arm in midreach or through some other equally dramatic rejection, he exhaled with relief and withdrew his prize.
It lay in his palm, glowing softly. No alarms echoed through the spire, no lights flashed, no armored doors slammed shut to imprison him within. One moment the crystal had floated before him, beckoning from within its container, and the next it lay inoffensively in his hand. His skin tingled with the contact. He could only hope any side effects were noncarcinogenic.
But then, he thought to himself as he retraced the route he had used to enter the spire, it was unlikely that anything that had such demonstrably salutary effects would also harm its holder. Of course, human body chemistry doubtless differed from that of this world, but the versatility of the crystal allowed him to hope. He had already seen how effectively it worked on a multitude of forms and devices.
Might it also not work on a human?
As near as he could tell, the sphere hadn’t moved. The unique circular portal remained open. It allowed him ingress until he resumed his seat on the bench, whereupon it sealed shut behind him as before. A gentle jolt, and then he was moving again.
What if it was not merely some kind of highly efficient shuttle but rather a much more elaborate transportation system preprogrammed to convey its passengers to far-distant locations all over the planet? It was difficult to guess direction, but as nearly as he could tell, it was rolling back along the same route he had originally taken. Alert for any sudden shifts or changes of direction, he remained tense until it came to a halt in a docking chamber very much like the one he had recently departed.
It was in fact the same. There was the impressive entrance to the vast central chamber, which he now knew for certain was located on another island. Additional confirmation took the form of the scree pile in the chamber’s center and the unmoving little robot, which remained exactly where, and as, he had left it.