"I could almost believe you lady if you told me somebody had made it.
But you'll never--"
"Somebody did."
"You mean your father--"
"My father discovered its presence, Cragin. I helped him with the
latter stages of his calculations; accompanied him out here. He
discovered its presence and he discovered its function. And they--"
"Function? You mean it's a mine of some sort? Water crystal?"
"No, Cragin. It wasn't built to serve men. It rules them. For want of
a better term, call it a control point. Because the machine-planet
has absolute control over the axial rotation and orbital revolution
of every planet in the solar system; over the heat emitted from its
sun; over the physical laws which are peculiar to each of its planets.
Father was trying to learn how to use it. He thought if he could
discover how it worked he could readjust Earth, replenish the sun,
remake--"
"I don't believe you, Lin Griffin. It's a ruse--"
"I will show you the mark where he died. They killed him, and let
me go, half-crazed as I was, to keep men forever in fear of passing
through the Barrier. I think they underestimate us psychologically, and
that is why--"
"They? Who?" Cragin cut in, disbelief still welling in his brain,
edging the tone of his voice.
"The--Owners, I call them, Cragin. They told us they own the universe."
III
It was as gray as the sand-blown skies of Earth in every direction;
once past its artificial veil of luminescence, the machine-planet was
a colder, more sterile thing than the widest valley on the dark side
of the moon. His mind refused to believe what it knew to be true--that
the surface of the sphere was hard, unyielding metal, worked in some
gigantic factory on some impossible world to an almost frictionless
smoothness. After he touched down, Cragin had to keep his forward jets
checked in at almost ten times their normal landing thrust to bring the
SP-15 to a skittering halt.
Quickly he donned magnetic boots, space-helmet and suit, and buckled
two short-barrelled Krell guns around his waist. They were loose in his
holsters as he clattered toward the opening airlock of the Starwasp. He
opened up the suit's intercom.
"Just keep your hands at your sides."
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm here to do a job, not play Junior SP-man. If
you want to help me, I can use you. If not, just keep out of my way."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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