It developed that when the robot spoke of days, it meant a
twenty-four-hour cycle of light and dark, with temperatures to suit.
Under other circumstances, the place would have been comfortable.
The pantry was stocked with Earthside food that didn't help Murdoch's
confidence any, since it was further evidence of the aliens' contacts
with men. He cooked eggs and bacon, helped Waverill eat, then washed up
the dishes.
He felt uneasy without his clothes; the more because the weapons in
them, through years of habit, were almost part of himself. He thought,
I'm getting too jumpy too soon. My nerves have to last a long time yet.
While he was putting the dishes to drain, the robot walked into the
room and watched him for a moment. Then it said to Waverill, "Keep your
hand on my shoulder and walk behind me." It reached for Waverill's
right hand and placed it on its own right shoulder, revealing in the
process that its arm was double-jointed. Then it simply walked through
the wall. The blind man, without flinching and perhaps without being
aware, passed through the seemingly firm substance.
When they were gone, Murdoch went quickly to the wall and passed his
hands over it. Solid.
The voice came from the ceiling, "You can not penetrate the walls
except when told to. Any place you can reach in this half of the
grounds is open to you. The half where your ship is will remain cut
off. You may amuse yourself as you wish so long as you do not willfully
damage anything. We have gone to great effort to make this place
comfortable for Terrans. Do not impair it for those who may come later."
Murdoch smiled inwardly. He'd known the walls would be solid; he'd
only wanted to check the alien's watchfulness. Now he knew that there
was more to it than just the robot, and that the voice was standard
wherever it came from.
Not that the information helped any.
* * * * *
He walked back to the middle of the building and went through the
door across the lobby. In that half of the building were a library,
a gymnasium and what was evidently a Solar System museum. There was
nothing new to him in the museum. Though there were useful tables and
data in the library, he was too tense to study. The gymnasium he'd use
later.
He went outside, walking gingerly on the gravel. The rear of the
building was a featureless semi-circle, the lawns and hedges unvaried.
He took deep breaths of the air perfumed by flowers.
He jumped at a sudden buzz near his elbow. A bee circled up from a
blossom and headed for the top of the building to disappear over the
edge. Murdoch considered jumping for a hold and hauling himself up to
the top of the building to see if there were hives there, but decided
not to risk the aliens' displeasure. He realized now that he'd been
hearing the bees all the time without recognizing it, and was annoyed
at himself for not being more alert. He paid more attention now, and
saw that there were other insects too; ants and a variety of beetles.
There were no birds, mammals, or reptiles that he could see.
He parted the hedge and leaned close to the clear wall, shading the
surface with his hands to see into the ice. There were a few rocks
in sight. He found one neatly sliced in two by the force-field, or
whatever it was, showing a trail of striations in the ice above it
where it had slowly settled. On Ganymede, the rate of sink of a cool
rock would be very slow in the ice.
Far back in the dimness he could see a few vague objects that might
have been large rocks or ships. There were some other things with
vaguely suggestive shapes, like long-eroded artifacts. Nothing that
couldn't have been the normal fall-in from space.
He went to the front of the building again and stood for a while,
looking at the graveled other half of the place. He couldn't see any
insects there, and not a blade of grass. He approached the barrier and
leaned against it, to see how it felt. It was rigid, but didn't feel
glass-hard. Rather it had a very slight surface softness, so he could
press a fingernail in a fraction of a millimeter.
He remembered that on Earth bees would blunder into a glass pane, and
looked around to see if they hit the barrier. They didn't. An inch or
so from it, they turned in the air and avoided it. Neither could he see
any insects crawling on the invisible surface. He pressed his face
closer, and noticed again the odd reluctance he'd felt when crossing on
the way in.
At ground level, a dark line not more than a quarter of an inch thick
marked where the barrier split the soil. Gravel heaped up against it on
both sides.
He looked again toward the ship. If things went according to plan,
the ship's proximity alarm would go off some time within the next two
days. He didn't think the aliens would let him go to the ship, but he
expected the diversion to help him check out something he'd heard about
the barrier.
He flexed his thumbs, feeling the small lumps implanted in the web of
flesh between thumb and finger on each hand. He'd practiced getting the
tiny instruments in and out until he could do it without thinking. But
now the whole project seemed ridiculously optimistic.
He felt annoyed at himself again. It's the aliens, he thought, that
are getting my nerves. I've pulled plenty of jobs as intricate as this
without fretting this way.
* * * * *
He began another circuit around the building, and was at the rear when
the voice said, almost at his shoulder, "Murdoch, Waverill wants you."
His employer lay on his cot, looking drowsy. He scowled at Murdoch's
footsteps. "Where you been? I want a drink."