He said, "Hold it, Tappy! Wait!"
He took the brace from her and examined the opening. There were six tiny orange-colored buttons inside, iwo rows of three, with a somewhat larger scarlet button at the head of the rows.
"What the hell!"
He seemed to have been saying that a lot lately.
Only a baby's fingers could have pushed one button without pushing another next to it. He said, "We got something here, Tappy. Just what I don't know."
He took one of the pencils from the leather holder in his Jacket pocket. Holding the pencil in his right hand, he gripped the brace in the middle, and he pointed one end at a nearby tree but away from his body. He made sure that the other end did not point at Tappy.
"Maybe I shouldn't," he said. "Do I know what I'm doing?
No. But I'll do it, anyway."
Using the eraser end of the pencil, he pressed on the larger, scarlet button. Nothing happened. Had he really thought that it would?
He paused to tell Tappy what he was doing. She looked surprised but not as much as he had expected.
He said, "It can't be a weapon, Tappy. It'd be too awkward to use as such, unless . .
Perhaps it was a weapon, but the designer had been forced to camouflage it as a leg brace and, hence, could not avoid cumbersomeness in its handling.
He placed the pencil end on one of the orange buttons nearest to the scarlet button.
The tree the brace was aimed at split soundlessly, though the crash of the upper part on the ground certainly was noisy enough.
The tree had been neatly sheared off.
Shouts filtered through the forest, human voices. The blaring of honkers also came through. He paid them no attention.
Where the upper part of the tree had been, extending from the stump, was a shadowy but clearly visible replica of the part that had fallen off. It was the ghost of the sheared-off part.
TAPPY'S touch on his arm jogged him back to their immediate PREDICAMENT.
THE SOUNDS were drawing erratically closer. Jack did not know what was going on, but he was pretty sure they did not want to fall into the hands of whatever might be after them. Tappy's urgency indicated that she felt the same.
But the great ring of the base of the ship surrounded them. The thing had come down on them like a monstrous cage-which was what it probably was. Somehow it had known where they were, approximately, and enclosed them so that its personnel could canvass the limited region and make them captive. Exactly as he would have done to capture a moving bug he did not want to squish: set a jar over it first.
So how could the bug get free before the end? Tunnel under the rim of the jar? Fly up into the center? Surely not!
He looked again at the brace in his hand. The scarlet button was faintly glowing; he had not noticed that before. That could be the on/off switch-and the device was still on. Ready to fire again.
That notion made him freeze. He pointed it upward and used his pencil to touch the largest button again.
The glow faded. Right: now it was off. He resumed breathing.
Tappy was tugging at his arm again. He looked the way she was facing. "But that's toward the rim!" he protested, keeping his voice low. "You haven't seen it, but take my word: that thing is two hundred feet thick! No way we can get by it without mountain-climbing gear. We'd be better off dodging them in the center, and using this thing if we have to. It just sheared off a tree!"
"Wait, wait, Tappy!" he protested. "I guess you know what this thing isid you always know?" She shook her head no. "You remember now? Our entry into this world jogged your memory?"
She nodded yes. "So now you know how to control it? You know how dangerous it is?" Yes.
"Then you will have to show me," he said. "This thing is so powerful I don't dare use it ignorantly. It was just luck I didn't have it pointing toward one of us instead of that tree!"
He got down and scraped the leaves and twigs away from a section of the ground. "Here's a diagram of the buttons on this thing," he said, taking her hand and using her finger to draw it, so she would know exactly what he was doing. "Here is a big scarlet button, which is the on/off switch; it glows faintly when it's on."
her finger into the dirt. "Here are six smaller orange buttons, one-two-three, one-two-three. When I turned the big one on and touched this one, zap! It cut through that tree."
Tappy disengaged her hand and took his instead. She was going to make him point to a button! He extended his finger.
"You have me over the orange buttons," he told her as the tip of his finger moved. "The scarlet one is farther over." But she knew where the buttons were; she seemed to have a good memory for what she had touched. She pushed his hand down.
"That's the third orange one in the right-hand row. That's the one you mean?" She pushed his hand down harder. "Okay, I got it, Tappy! Third button!" But still she pushed.
What was wrong here? "Look, Tappy, I don't think this will do anything unless the scarlet one is turned on first, so-"
She nodded affirmatively, but still kept his hand down. "There's something different about this? I can't let go of it?" She nodded yes. "But of course I can let g h! Do you mean sustained fire?" She nodded again and finally let his hand go.
"Got it," he said. "Turnit on, touch that button, and treat it like a gushing fire hose. Don't point anywhere I don't want to cut, even if I'm no longer touching the button. Thanks for warning me!"
Once more she pointed urgently toward the rim. It was high time; the searchers were uncomfortably close, by the sounds.
one and set off for the rIm. They weaved around trees and bushes, keeping low, and left the sounds of pursuit behind.
This was interesting, he thought as he moved. He had assumed that the most dangerous place was nearest the rim. But may they figured the bugs would not go near the glass of the jar, so they were concentrating on the center. The bugs were moving in an unexpected direction.
How was it that their pursuers knew in a general way where they were, but not specifically? If there was a bug on them-a radio frequency emitter-it should enable others to close on them readily enough. Not that there should be a bug. Unless Unless that honker had planted it! That marble under Tappy's skin, between her breasts: what about that? First the marble, then the rant ship, one-two.
But several things made him doubt it. That honker had seemed friendly rather than threatening, despite what he had done. And if that had been a location device, why was it so ineffective at close range? And why so obvious? It would have been easier simply to plant it in Tappy's clothing, so that they would never know it was there. So whatever that marble was, it was unlikely to be a bug of that kind.
Jack didn't want to think about whatever other kind of bug or grub or egg it might be.
The huge rim loomed close, as high as it was thick: about two hundred feet. It looked like a twenty-story building without windows, extending to either side, slightly concave. The wall was absolutely smooth, all too much like the glass of a gargantuan jar except for its opacity. Who could have made a flying device this large? Its mere existence suggested a technology far beyond anything known on Earth.
Since when had he believed this was anywhere close to Earth?
Tappy had led him through some kind of space warp or time warp to an alien planet; that had been obvious from the start. Yet how had she known of that aperture? He was sure she had not known that anything like this was going to occur when they started. She had been too forlorn, too sensitive to the hurts of the world. Only now that they were here was she really coming to life.