"I think I do--almost," Underwood answered.
The gemlike structure beneath their feet glistened like polished ebony.
It caught the distant stars in its thousand facets and cast them until
it gleamed as if with infinite lights of its own.
The workmen, too, were caught in its spell, for they stood silently
contemplating the mystery of a people who had created such beauty.
The spell was broken at last by a movement across the heavens.
Underwood glanced up. "Papa Phyfe's coming on the warpath. I'll bet
he's ready to trim my ears for taking the lab ship without his consent."
"You're boss of the lab ship, aren't you?" said Terry.
"It's a rather flexible arrangement--in Phyfe's mind, at least. I'm
boss until he decides he wants to do something."
The headquarters ship slowed to a halt and the lock opened, emitting
the fiery burst of a motor scooter which Doc Phyfe rode with angry
abandon.
"You, Underwood!" His voice came harshly through the phones. "I demand
an explanation of--"
That was as far as he got, for he glimpsed the thing upon which the
men were standing, and from his vantage point it looked all the more
like a black jewel in the sky. He became instantly once more the eager
archeologist instead of expedition administrator, a role he filled with
irritation.
"What have you got there?" he whispered.
Terry answered. "We don't know. I asked Dr. Underwood's assistance in
uncovering the artifact. If it caused you any difficulty, I'm sorry;
it's my fault."
* * * * *
"Pah!" said Phyfe. "A thing like this is of utmost importance. You
should have notified me immediately."
Terry and Underwood grinned at each other. Phyfe reprimanded every
archeologist on the expedition for not notifying him immediately
whenever anything from the smallest machined fragment of metal to the
greatest stone monuments were found. If they had obeyed, he would have
done nothing but travel from asteroid to asteroid over hundreds of
thousands of miles of space.
"You were busy with your own work," said Terry.
But Phyfe had landed, and as he dismounted from the scooter, he stood
in awe. Terry, standing close to him, thought he saw tears in the old
man's eyes through the helmet of the spaceship.
"It's beautiful!" murmured Phyfe in worshipping awe. "Wonderful. The
most magnificent find in a century of asteroidal archeology. We must
make arrangements for its transfer to Earth at once."
"If I may make a suggestion," said Terry, "you recall that some of the
artifacts have not survived so well. Decay in many instances has set
in--"
"Are you trying to tell me that this thing can decay?" Phyfe's little
gray Van Dyke trembled violently.
"I'm thinking of the thermal transfer. Doctor Underwood is better able
to discuss that, but I should think that a mass of this kind, which is
at absolute zero, might undergo unusual stresses in coming to Earth
normal temperatures. True, we used the Atom Stream on it, but that heat
did not penetrate enough to set up great internal stresses."