They climbed in. Carson left the hatch open. He adjusted his cap, and activated the magnets. The vehicle floated up the face of the tower.
'Is there,' asked Richard, 'another of these things on the other side of Oz?'
'Another round tower? Yes, there is.'
'Another inscription?'
'No. Not another inscription.'
'Interesting.' Richard looked down. 'Hey,' he said, 'the roof isn't level.' He leaned out to get a better view. 'It's the first slope of any kind we've seen here.' 'There's another,' said Carson. 'The other tower.'
'Yes.' They hovered just over the roof. 'Frank.' Richard Wald's silver eyebrows drew together. Is the location of the other tower a reverse image of this one?' 'No.' Richard looked delighted.
Hutch saw the point. 'It breaks the pattern,' she said. 'A straight line drawn between the round towers does not pass through the central tower.'
'A unique condition in Oz. Frank, does it happen anywhere else?'
'Nowhere that I know of.'
'Good. Then we have only these towers to concentrate on.' He swung around, trying to get his bearings. 'The center of the city is where?'
Carson showed him.
'And the other tower?'
'Toward the north.' He pointed. 'Why?'
'Don't know yet. Frank, have you measured the angle of the roof?'
'No. I don't think anyone measured it. Why would we?'
'I don't really know. But look at it. The lowest part of it lies on the side closest to the center of the city. As you look out toward the wall, the slope rises.'
'I don't follow.'
'All guesswork so far. Is the same thing true of the other round tower?'
'I'm not sure I understand the question.'
'You said the roof there is also angled. Is the roof on the other tower lowest where it's closest to the middle of Oz?'
'I don't remember.' Why would anyone, his tone suggested, bother with such a thing? 'Do you want to set down and look around on the roof a bit?'
'No, I've seen quite enough, thanks. We have one more job to do, and then I'd like to go with you back to the Temple.'
'Richard.' Hutch, who had guessed this was coming, tried to use her most serious, don't screw-around- with-me voice. 'Don't forget we're supposed to be here to take these people off. Not augment them.'
'I know. Hutch. And I won't forget.' He took her hand, squeezed it. Their Flickinger fields flashed. 'Be careful,' she said. 'What's the other job?' asked Carson. 'We need as precise a measurement of the inclination as we can get. On both round towers. And we need to ensure that the lowest point on each roof really does match up with the central square.' He winked at Hutch. 'Maybe'-he beamed—'we have something.'
June 6, 2202 Dear Dick,
…Thank God for the round towers and the slanted roofs. It is all that adds any touch of reason to the entire business.
You would have been amused at how we behaved. Very quiet. We kept our voices down, as if we were all afraid someone might be listening. Even Frank Carson. You haven't met him. He's not the sort of man to give way to anyone. But even he kept looking over his shoulder.
Truth is, there is a presence in those streets. You can't help but feel it.
Poor Hutch. She sees no rationale whatever, and consequently she was damned near unhinged at the end of our tour. Even with the small insight I have (and I know you have guessed what it is), I too feel unsettled. Oz is not a place for anyone with a halfway active imagination…
Richard
— Richard Wald to his cousin Dick Received in Portland, Oregon, June 24
PART TWO
TEMPLE OF THE WINDS
6
On board Alpha. Sunday, June 6; 1830 hours
Hutch was glad to get back to the Winckelmann. It was an ungainly, modular vehicle, little more than a set of rings (three on this voyage) connected to a central spine. She activated its lights as she approached. They illuminated the shuttle bay and silhouetted arrays of sensors and maintenance pods and antennas. The ship was warm and familiar, a utilitarian and undeniably human design floating against a starry backdrop rendered suddenly unsettling.
The moods of deep space didn't usually affect her as they did many others who traveled between the worlds. But tonight, ah tonight: the ship looked good. She'd have liked company, somebody to talk to, someone to fill up the spaces in the vessel. But she was nevertheless relieved to be home, where she could lock doors and do a simmy.
The Academy seal, a scroll and lamp framing the blue earth of the United World, was emblazoned prominently on the A ring, near the bridge.
The moon and the planet floated in a black, starless sky. Quraqua lay on the edge of the Void, the great rift that yawned between the Orion and Sagittarius Arms. The opposite shore was six thousand light-years away, visible only as a dim glow. Hutch wondered about the effect on a developing species of a sky half-crowded with stars and half-empty.
Alpha entered B ring, and settled into its cradle. The big doors swung satisfactorily shut on the night. She pulled off her Flickinger harness and stowed it in the compartment behind her seat. Five minutes later, she was on the bridge.
The message board blinked. There was a transmission in the holding tray from the Temple site, routine precedence. Too soon for Richard to have arrived. Time enough to look at it later. She went to her quarters, removed her work clothes, and stepped into the shower. The spray felt good.
Afterward, still dripping, she ordered steak. Her cabin was decorated with pictures of old friends, of herself and Richard on Pinnacle, of Alpha floating nose to nose with the Great Hexagon Monument near Arcturus, of a group of planetologists whom she'd joined for a beach party at Bethesda (and who had hoisted her on their shoulders for the photo). The air was sweet with the breath of green plants, lemon thyme and bayberry and honeysuckle.
The demon moon rolled across her view. Oz, on the far side, was not visible. Annoyed at her own disquiet, she closed the panel.
Richard had given her a medallion years earlier, a lovely piece of platinum, a copy of a talisman he'd brought back from Quraqua. This was in the days before Oz had been found. A winged beast and a six-pointed star were engraved on one side, and a gracefully curved arch on the other. Arcane symbols lined the rim. The beast and the star designate love, Richard had told her, and the arch is prosperity. Both will be yours as long as you wear the medallion.
Tonight, it was soothing. She looped it over her shoulders. Local magic.
She dressed and, when the dinner bell rang, strolled by the galley to pick up her steak. She added a bottle of wine, and took everything to the bridge.
