Burgess nodded. "By, perhaps, feeding the duplicator with the room
itself. With a pickaxe, he can start hewing down the very walls, or
even have the duplicator build a robot that will take care of its
need for material to build with. Against this development, we have
surrounded the room completely with a force-shield, limiting his
outward progress to two feet of concrete in any direction. But the room
is approximately thirty feet square, and twenty feet high. With all
that mass he could exist in there for years."
"And my job is to get him out," said Jerry.
"Yes. The government feels that a Contact specialist's the only
kind of man to send into this madman's world. You men are used to
extra-somatic experiences--and you have learned to live with danger
without losing your heads."
"Well," said Jerry, getting up, "I guess that sums up the situation
sufficiently."
Burgess nodded, sadly. "Any further briefing is useless. Impossible,
really. I've told you the situation, and you can certainly imagine the
danger. But as for the solution, well.... You'll just have to feel your
way, and do whatever you think best."
Jerry paused beside Burgess at the door to the hall. "One thing,
though, Doctor; when _I_ get into the influence of the machine, what
kind of universe will I be in? Mine or Mawson's?"
"I can only theorize on that," said Burgess. "My guess would be that
you'll find both in there, one vying for supremacy over the other. This
fight won't be man to man. It will be universe against universe."