'The guide ... uh ... Rick ... where's he?'
'I sent him with Joe on a reconnaissance. I think they just left. I don't expect him back until this afternoon. His face should look better by then.'
'Would you ... Would you thank him for me? I... uh .. . forgot.'
'Certainly.' James rose. 'If you don't mind, I have to go over today's menu with Pandit. If you want anything, just ring this bell.' James placed a small silver bell in front of Con and departed. She finished breakfast alone. Afterward, she returned to her quarters, pulled the cur-tains and flopped down on her bed.
9
THE PATH JOE AND RICK FOLLOWED WAS LIKE THE ONE
leading from the time machine's landing site. It, too, was carved in places from solid stone and ended at a circular depression. Placed in the center of the circle was an object that Rick first thought was a sculpture. It appeared made from crystal and onyx. 'That's our plane,' said Joe. Rick realized that the graceful object before him was not an artist's expression of flight, but an engineer's means to achieve it. The 'crystal' portion of the plane consisted of a clear bullet-shaped tube. Within the tube floated three pairs of seats, with a seventh single seat in the front. There was a sloping panel, no thicker than a pane of glass, in front of that seat. From the panel protruded switches leading Rick to as-sume it was the pilot's controls. Behind the transparent por-tion of the fuselage was the 'onyx' portion of the plane. It was less the color black than the absolute absence of light, without highlights or shadows. This part of the plane in-cluded a stubby set of wings, tipped in silver, and a graceful V-shaped tail. Under the wings were swellings that Rick guessed were the plane's engines although it was hard to see them against the fuselage. The aircraft rested on a tripod of delicate-looking legs, which ended in broad, flat disks.
'Ain't she a beauty,' said Joe.
'It looks like it's already flying,' said Rick. 'I've never seen anything like it.'
'She's one of a kind,' replied Joe.
'Why is it so black?' asked Rick.
'Touch it,' answered Joe.
Rick walked over to the wing and placed his hand on it. 'It's cold,' he said in astonishment.
'Its surface is a kind of solar panel, a damn efficient one. It absorbs more than the visible spectrum. That's why it's cold'
'Do you mean this plane's solar-powered? What if we fly into clouds?'
'It runs on stored energy,' answered Joe. 'The panels just keep it charged.'
'This is amazing technology!' said Rick. 'Why doesn't Mr. Green ...'
'Do you want to fly or ask questions?' asked Joe sharply.
'Fly,' said Rick meekly.
'Right answer.' Joe walked over to the black part of the fuselage. An opening appeared, and a broad silver ribbon emerged. When the ribbon touched the ground, it changed shape and became a set of steps. Rick watched this in aston-ishment, but said nothing. Joe turned, and said, 'She recog-nizes me. Before we leave, I'll set her to recognize you, too.' Joe partly climbed the steps and reached in the plane to re-trieve two objects. He handed one to Rick. 'Ever use a rifle?'
'No,' replied Rick. 'Couldn't afford a permit.'
'No matter,' said Joe. 'These almost shoot themselves.'
Rick examined the weapon in his hand. It felt light and only vaguely resembled a rifle. It was in the shape of a cyl- inder two inches in diameter and about thirty inches long. There was no muzzle, but one end of the cylinder was open. There were two pistol grips on the cylinder, one at the end opposite the opening and another in die middle. No triggers were visible. A second, shorter and thinner cylinder was mounted atop the rear of the larger one. Rick assumed this was a kind of scope. The grips and the scope were made from a dark gray plasticlike material, as were portions of the main cylinder. The rest of the weapon was the same shadowy black as the rear of the plane.
'This button turns on the gauges and the targeting mech-anism,' said Joe, demonstrating. Three rows of different- colored lights appeared on the side of the weapon and a silver-colored trigger and trigger guard formed in front of the first grip. 'You try it.'
