Underwood didn't get it until he caught Terry's wink behind Phyfe's
back. Once it left space and went into the museum laboratory, Terry
might never get to work on the thing again. That was the perpetual
gripe of the field men.
"I think Doctor Bernard has a good point," said Underwood. "I would
advise leaving the artifact here in space until a thorough examination
has been made. After all, we have every facility aboard the _Lavoisier_
that is available on Earth."
"Very well," said Phyfe. "You may proceed in charge of the physical
examination of the find, Doctor Underwood. You, Doctor Bernard, will be
in charge of proceedings from an archeological standpoint. Will that
be satisfactory to everyone concerned?"
It was far more than Terry had expected.
"I will be on constant call," said Phyfe. "Let me know immediately of
any developments." Then the uncertain mask of the executive fell away
from the face of the little old scientist and he regarded the find with
humility and awe. "It's beautiful," he murmured again, "_beautiful_."
_CHAPTER TWO_
Phyfe remained near the site as Underwood and Terry set their crew to
the routine task of weighing, measuring, and photographing the object,
while Underwood considered what else to do.
"You know, this thing has got me stymied, Terry. Since it can't be
touched by an Atom Stream, that means there isn't a single analytical
procedure to which it will respond--that I know of, anyway. Does your
knowledge of the Stroids and their ways of doing things suggest any
identification of it?"
Terry shook his head as he stood by the port of the laboratory ship
watching the crews at work outside. "Not a thing, but that's no
criterion. We know so little about the Stroids that almost everything
we find has a function we never heard of before. And of course
we've found many objects with totally unknown functions. I've been
thinking--what if this should turn out to be merely a natural gem
from the interior of the planet, maybe formed at the time of its
destruction, but at least an entirely natural object rather than an
artifact?"
"It would be the largest crystal formation ever encountered, and
the most perfect. I'd say the chances of its natural formation are
negligible."
"But maybe this is the one in a hundred billion billion or whatever
number chance it may be."
"If so, its value ought to be enough to balance the Terrestrial budget.
I'm still convinced that it must be an artifact, though its material
and use are beyond me. We can start with a radiation analysis. Perhaps
it will respond in some way that will give us a clue."
When the crew had finished the routine check, Underwood directed his
men to set up the various types of radiation equipment contained within
the ship. It was possible to generate radiation through almost the
complete spectrum from single cycle sound waves to hard cosmic rays.
The work was arduous and detailed. Each radiator was slowly driven
through its range, then removed and higher frequency equipment used. At
each fraction of an octave, the object was carefully photographed to
record its response.
After watching the work for two days, Terry wearied of the seemingly
non-productive labor. "I suppose you know what you're doing, Del," he
said. "But is it getting you anywhere at all?"
Underwood shook his head. "Here's the batch of photographs. You'll
probably want them to illustrate your report. The surfaces of the
object are mathematically exact to a thousandth of a millimeter.
Believe me, that's some tolerance on an object of this size. The
surfaces are of number fifteen smoothness, which means they are plane
within a hundred-thousandth of a millimeter. The implications are
obvious. The builders who constructed that were mechanical geniuses."
* * * * *
"Did you get any radioactive dating?"
"Rather doubtfully, but the indications are around half a million
years."
"That checks with what we know about the Stroids."
"It would appear that their culture is about on a par with our own."
"Personally, I think they were ahead of us," said Terry. "And do you
see what that means to us archeologists? It's the first time in the
history of the science that we've had to deal with the remains of a
civilization either equal or superior to our own. The problems are
multiplied a thousand times when you try to take a step up instead of a
step down."
"Any idea of what the Stroids looked like?"
"We haven't found any bodies, skeletons, or even pictures, but we think
they were at least roughly anthropomorphic. They were farther from the
Sun than we, but it was younger then and probably gave them about the
same amount of heat. Their planet was larger and the Stroids appear
to have been somewhat larger as individuals than we, judging from
the artifacts we've discovered. But they seem to have had a suitable
atmosphere of oxygen diluted with appropriate inert gases."
* * * * *
They were interrupted by the sudden appearance of a laboratory
technician who brought in a dry photographic print still warm from the
developing box.
He laid it on the desk before Underwood. "I thought you might be
interested in this."
Underwood and Terry glanced at it. The picture was of the huge,
gemlike artifact, but a number of the facets seemed to be covered with
intricate markings of short, wavy lines.
Underwood stared closer at the thing. "What the devil are those? We
took pictures of every facet previously and there was nothing like
this. Get me an enlargement of these."
"I already have." The assistant laid another photo on the desk, showing
the pattern of markings as if at close range. They were clearly
discernible now.
"What do you make of it?" asked Underwood.
"I'd say it looked like writing," Terry said. "But it's not like any
of the other Stroid characters I've seen--which doesn't mean much, of
course, because there could be thousands that I've never seen. Only how
come these characters are there now, and we never noticed them before?"
"Let's go out and have a look," said Underwood. He grasped the
photograph and noted the numbers of the facets on which the characters
appeared.
In a few moments the two men were speeding toward the surface of their
discovery astride scooters. They jockeyed above the facets shown on the
photographs, and stared in vain.
"Something's the matter," said Terry. "I don't see anything here."
"Let's go all the way around on the scooters. Those guys may have
bungled the job of numbering the photos."
They began a slow circuit, making certain they glimpsed all the facets
from a height of only ten feet.
"It's not here," Underwood agreed at last. "Let's talk to the crew that
took the shots."
They headed towards the equipment platform, floating in free space,
from which Mason, one of the Senior Physicists, was directing
operations. Mason signaled for the radiations to be cut off as the men
approached.
"Find any clues, Chief?" he asked Underwood. "We've done our best to
fry this apple, but nothing happens."
"Something _did_ happen. Did you see it?" Underwood extended the
photograph with the mechanical fingers of the spacesuit. Mason held it
in a light and stared at it. "We didn't see a thing like that. And we
couldn't have missed it." He turned to the members of the crew. "Anyone
see this writing on the thing?"
They looked at the picture and shook their heads.
"What were you shooting on it at the time?"