“What about your little robots?” Brink made the suggestion when Low had finally conceded defeat.
“We tried them, remember? They didn’t work.”
“You tried one at a time. What if you were to utilize several simultaneously?”
Low was skeptical. “Why should that work? The first time it took one robot to open one door. Why should the second door be any different?”
“Perhaps because it is different.” Brink was persistent. “You are thinking like a human.”
Low eyed the scientist uncertainly. “That’s because I happen to be a human, Ludger. So are you. Don’t start forgetting that.”
Brink smiled enigmatically. “I am merely trying to emphasize the fact that the Cocytans may have thought dissimilarly. What strikes us as irrational or even capricious may have made perfect sense to a Cocytan.” He put a hand on the pilot’s arm. “Come, let us try. Are you now in the business of conserving robotic energy?”
When the second door melted open, Low was too delighted to take umbrage at the scientist’s smug smile. As Brink had hypothesized, using different combinations of robots allowed them to open all the remaining archways save one. No combination of imprecations and robots would force the fifth barrier. Perhaps it was broken, Brink thought.
He soon forgot about the stubborn fifth door. They had four other destinations to explore. Beyond each lay another familiar sphere-and-tunnel transport station.
“I wonder if absorbing that crystal did anything to your brain,” Low remarked.
“Boost it, for example?” Brink demurred. “I feel no differently, Commander. I have no doubt you would have figured out this solution on your own. Later, perhaps, but eventually for certain.” He was gazing through the high portal of the last archway, contemplating the resting, waiting sphere. “We could do worse than explore farther.”
“I agree.” Low moved forward. “Might as well start with this one.”
Brink followed, green light comically radiating from his overstuffed shirt and pants. “Five archways, five outlying islands. No surprises there.”
Low entered the sphere. “I wonder if they’ll all be like the first? Storerooms or museums.”
The transparent door irised shut behind them, and once again Brink marveled at the mechanism. There was nothing so primitive as a bolt or hinge visible.
With a slight jerk the sphere started forward, rolling faster and faster down the tunnel while the passengers within remained level and stable on their bench.
“I have this feeling,” Brink commented as he stared at the black tube ahead, “that each island will be different.”
“Intuition?” Low was fascinated by the featureless tunnel.
“No. Merely common sense. If I wished to leave behind a museum, I would concentrate it all in one place.”
“Sure, but now you’re thinking like a human.”
Brink chuckled. “Ah, Commander. We may yet find a way off this silent, dead world.”
It was neither silent nor dead, of course. Cocytus was in fact occupied by a population of immortal mutes. All-powerful, they were helpless. All-seeing, they could not share their visions. All-knowing, they could not impart knowledge. Dysfunctional angels, they could only observe, debate and hope.
It was Low’s turn to smile sagely when they arrived at the second island and entered the welcoming spire. It was filled not with mounds of artifacts or cases of mysterious devices but a grand procession of softly glowing, artfully projected maps, globes and starfields. The second spire was a shrine to topography both terrestrial and galactic.
Many of the diagrams and schematics were unrecognizable. As with many of the artifacts they had encountered, the two humans simply did not possess the necessary referents to facilitate comprehension. They marveled at the confluxes of lines and dots and images, walking not only around but through them, and wondered at their meaning.
“Perhaps these represent the planet’s internal landscape, represented in ways we cannot fathom.” As he spoke, Low noticed that the scientist was idly caressing a crystal protruding from one shirt pocket. “How do you map the troposphere? This is science beyond ours, my friend.”
“Not all of it.” Low pointed to an exhibit off to their left.
There was nothing arcane about the softly lambent three-dimensional representation he had pointed out. It showed the central island surrounded by its five smaller neighbors. The shapes of the outlying spires that dominated each individual islet were unmistakable. A few small subsidiary rocks poked their heads above sea level, but they were clearly too insignificant to contain any ruins of significance.
“It’s almost as if this archipelago was chosen for its isolation.” Low studied the map, which he could walk through at will.
“This appears to be some sort of console or control board.” Brink passed one hand experimentally over a smooth-sided mound projecting from the floor directly alongside the map. Instantly the projection expanded to include undersea features, none of which were as remarkable as the system from which they sprang.
“You take charge of this, Commander.” The scientist stepped aside. “I am a reasonably skilled map reader, but not as good as you, I am certain.”
Low wasn’t quite sure if Brink was being straightforward or condescending again. Shrugging it off, he stepped forward and began experimenting with the control mound. Assorted hand movements called up various functions, from a depiction of the islands’ internal structure to overlays showing vegetation and animal populations, both above and below the water.
A certain twist of the hand, no more radical than any other, and the entire projection disappeared.
“It’s gone.” Low gaped at where the projection had been floating.
“No, not quite.” Kneeling, Brink picked something off the floor. It was a miniature version of the control mound. “Try this. Go on.” He handed it to Low.
Assorted hand passes allowed one to expand or contract the map, to move around within it, and to access all of the device’s numerous functions at whatever scale the operator required. When shut down it rested slick, cool and alien in his palm.
“That’s handy.” He slipped it into an empty pocket, feeling it nestle against his thigh. “Let’s see what else we can find.”
Everything they encountered was interesting, especially the maps showing Cocytus’s major continents. One placed them a considerable distance from the nearest shore. None hinted at the presence of a viable population. Only the map of the islands, however, was portable.
When they turned to depart, they had a nasty shock. One of Brink’s principal fears had been realized.
While they had been deeply engrossed in the contents of the map spire, the door leading back to the transport tunnel had closed silently behind them.
“And me without a door-opening robot in my pocket.” A worried Low ran his fingers over the barrier. It was as solid as the floor. “Now we do have a problem.”
“Perhaps we can find another robot.”
Not knowing what else to do, they performed another circuit of the map chamber. While they encountered wonders aplenty, they found none of the compact door-openers.
This time it was Brink who was ready to give up, but after all they had accomplished, Low wasn’t about to be condemned to death by a recalcitrant door. Further searching revealed a small service panel set flush with the floor not far from the side of the door where a robot would normally stand. The line that set it off was so fine that they had walked over it a dozen times without seeing it. Fortunately, Low had exceptionally sharp eyesight.
When they finally succeeded in prying up the cover, a nest of lines and conduits was revealed. In their normalcy of appearance and unambiguousness of function they were almost heart-breakingly familiar.
“Cables,” Low muttered. “Plain old ordinary cables.”
“Plain perhaps,” remarked Brink. “Old certainly. Ordinary? I would not wager so.”
“They’re cables, that’s all. We need to instigate an engineering procedure known as ‘messing with.’ Give me a hand here, Ludger.”
Brink was reluctant. “We could blow ourselves up.”
Low grinned at his companion. “That shouldn’t worry you. You’re packed with crystals. If you blow up, I’ll bring you back. You can return the favor. Grab this.” He indicated an inch-thick cable.
Together the two men pulled until the cable snapped from its braces. The interior was not metal but some white, waxy material. It did throw off a satisfying shower of sparks, however, substantial enough to knock both men off their feet.
“Ludger!” Low sat up and tried to clear his eyes. “Where are you?”
“Over here, Commander.” Brink was rising shakily to his feet. “A shocking experience.”
Low winced. “If you’re going to pun, stick to German, will you? That way I won’t be able to understand you.” After a quick glance he added nonchalantly, “Door’s open.”
Indeed, the barrier had vanished. Access to the tunnel was once more available, and the sphere rested motionless on its track.
Not waiting to see if the effect was permanent, or if some backup system was even then working to override the interrupt, the two men hurried through the gap. It remained open as they climbed back into the sphere.