Rob stared at the array of controls. Judging from the number of switches there must be several hundred cameras. So much for his “secret” trip to the aquasphere. It must have been purely a matter of luck whether or not he had been observed, and if Corrie could tap the camera net, so could anyone else. Had Corrie been up here when he was out there exploring? Rob suddenly recalled the unexpected appearance of Caliban. According to the usual schedule, the squid should have been engaged on the analysis of the data that had come in with Rob on the ship. If someone had interrupted that intentionally, Caliban’s sudden move to the central sphere was no accident. The “accident” was Rob’s own survival. Caliban found something of compelling interest to him in that central lab. Well, so did Rob — but the king of the aquasphere had time to watch the lab at his leisure.
Corrie was playing with the control switches, flipping them on and off quickly as she kept her attention on the display screen. “Nearly got it,” she said. The view was taken from a camera set out in the aquasphere. It looked back at the metal and plastic partition that surrounded the living-sphere. Corrie made a final adjustment to the setting, and the display changed to provide a split-screen image. They now had both a frontal and a side view of part of the living-sphere on the screen.
This section of the central sphere had been modified. Instead of a blank metal wall or a transparent panel, they were looking at a huge viewing screen set into the outer wall of the sphere. It showed an elaborate pattern of swirling and shifting colors. In front of it, tentacles flared into the arch of an “attack” posture, floated the colossal mass of Caliban.
As they watched, the squid moved forward to the screen and secured himself there with six of his powerful arms. After a few seconds the animal began to strike at the screen with his savage beak. They could again hear the heavy vibrations, transmitted through the outer wall.
Caliban was frantic. Rob saw the other four arms, their inner surfaces studded with suckers each bigger than the palm of his hand, flailing at the water. Powerful contractions rippled along their length, moving outward from the hulking body. After a few more seconds Caliban released his grip on the wall. In a flurry of convulsive movement, he coiled and uncoiled all ten of the great tentacles.
“It’s another fight with Morel,” whispered Corrie, almost as though the man could somehow hear them. “I’ve seen this before. He’s hitting Caliban in the pain centers. That’s the way he makes him cooperate on analysis of information. This time it doesn’t seem to be working.”
As she spoke, the great squid uncoiled itself completely and again moved forward to the big viewing screen. For the third time they heard the sound of the beak striking against the outer wall, and this time they could see the heavy partition flexing and twisting. The tentacles and suckers were capable of exerting enormous force.
“He knows that Morel is inside, behind the panel,” said Corrie softly. “He doesn’t know of any way to get at him. If Morel is right about Caliban’s intelligence, he ought to be worried. Some day Caliban will find a way to reach him.”
Although they could not see Morel, Rob realized that they were witnessing a true battle of wills. The man’s presence showed only from the kaleidoscopic patterns on the display screen and the periodic agonized convulsions of the giant squid. But he was there. Rob could visualize him, fair skin flushed with rage, trying to bend Caliban to his wishes. The animal was resisting desperately. At last, after four more attacks on the wall, Caliban withdrew and coiled all his tentacles loosely about his body. As he did so, the pattern on the viewing screen changed, to become a smooth and orderly movement of colored light.
“He’s given up,” said Corrie. “He’s doing what Morel wants. I’ve never seen a struggle like that before. Either Caliban is becoming more resistant, or Morel was trying to get something out of him that he really didn’t want to give.”
“Maybe Morel wasn’t after information,” said Rob. “Perhaps he was punishing Caliban, for something that the squid did.”
Or didn’t do. Rob thought back to his close shave earlier in the day. Why had Caliban suddenly appeared at the lab window? It was possible that he had been summoned there by Morel. If he had, was this Morel’s punishment for the squid’s failure to do what the man had expected? That would explain Morel’s envenomed looks at Rob during the evening meal, even if it would not explain why Morel’s hatred was so intense. It had to be tied to the secret lab.
Rob had already decided that there would be no more trips through the aquasphere until he knew far more about the workings of Atlantis. Regulo and Morel had made the whole asteroid a marvel of remote control, and there was no way of knowing what features of the water-world might be turned to a convenient instrument of liquidation for a prying visitor. Further investigation of the lab would have to be done from inside the living quarters, and that implied the use of equipment that Rob had not brought with him. He forced himself to accept the idea of patience.
Just before Corrie turned the outside window to its opaque setting and dimmed the room lights, Rob had one more fleeting and disturbing thought. The means for his disposal would not be confined to the aquasphere. If Morel wanted to kill him, there must be a hundred ways to do it in the living-sphere. Rob would be heading back to L-4 in a couple of days. Meanwhile, it might be a good idea to walk very carefully indeed.
After a couple of brief and typical last-minute hitches, the tap of the asteroid began. While Regulo handled the main controls, Rob kept his attention on the Spider. It was performing the high-temperature extrusion of materials adequately, but he was not at all happy with its performance. They were getting differential heating effects in the extruded cable, and that would weaken it.
“We can’t use the Spider this way on a big asteroid,” he said to Regulo, who was examining the assay of the latest length of cable. “I’ll have to make a few changes. I’m sorry, but I don’t see any way to do it unless I go all the way out to the Belt when you have the big one ready.”
Regulo was watching the cable as it snaked red-hot and sputtering out of the Spider’s glowing spinneret. “That’s fine with me. I was hoping you would be there anyway. We should have Atlantis all the way to the Belt by then.” He keyed out a spectrographic reading. “See, that’s the last of the volatiles, venting through the side port. Next time we’ll collect those and store them in a separate sphere. Once they’ve cooled off they’ll be useful reaction mass. Better than digging holes in the rock and hoping you’ll get the right veins, eh? Look at these.”
Regulo passed the assay results across to Rob, who took his eyes off the Spider long enough to make a quick assessment.
“We’re into the fourth layer,” he said after a few moments. “Eighty meters in. I expected the iron and the nickel, but the copper and the cobalt are a nice surprise. You know, I may have an alternative to your zone-melting idea. Why not begin the mining at the axis of rotation? If we put the proboscis straight in along the axis, we ought to get all the light elements out first. Once they’ve gone, we can squeeze the heavy stuff in to the middle and never move the proboscis at all.”
Regulo leaned back in his seat. The benefits of Morel’s treatment were apparent. There was no wincing with pain when he moved, no muscular spasms as he worked at the control board.
“It sounds nice, but I don’t think it will work,” he said at last. “We’d be pushing against the natural flow of materials. Once the ball is spinning, everything tends to fly outward and centrifugal acceleration does our work for us. If you start at the axis of spin, you’ll need some way of shrinking the ball as the tap goes on. I don’t see a good way to do it, not without wasting a lot of energy.” He shrugged. “There’s my top-of-the-head evaluation, but don’t take too much notice of it. We need options, and there’s more than one way to do most things. Think about it some more when you’re back with the beanstalk — and while we’re at it let’s tie our schedules together. Atlantis will be out in the Belt and ready for action with Lutetia two months from now. Can you fit that into your timetable?”