He glanced at them and
said:
'That's
hardly interesting. We already know there are Oms in this city. Did you just
work at the surface?'
'Not only,
Master', said the Councillor.
He leant
over the box and pulled out more prints.
'We also
have transfiximages'.
'What
depth?'
'Look, it is
written on the corner: 50 millistadia.'
Master Singh
looked satisfied. He bent his wrinkled head over the desk and placed his wiry
finger at the top of one of the images.
'Look here,'
he simply said.
The print
was clear. The rays had gone through the first layers without setting them onto
the film. One could see inside the ruins nearest to the camera.
'Oms!' said
the Councillor.
'Of course
Oms!' echoed the old man. 'What I am interested in is this! Those black shapes
around which the Oms are grouped in threes.'
'They
are...'
'Pocket
weapons, ray guns! These Oms are armed, my dear First Councillor! Do you
realize! Of course, due to their small size three are needed whereas we just
need to press the trigger with a finger. Look at that, they have modified these
weapons to their advantage. Each ray gun is mounted on a spring carriage. They
soldered levers for each trigger.'
He quickly
pored over other prints, pointing out strategically placed batteries.
'Look here!
And there... here! Three more! Considering their size this amounts to heavy
artillery! Do you realise that at the slightest offensive move your Traags
would have been killed at point-blank range?'
'How frightening!'
The Master
nodded pensively his large head wrinkled by age.
'Let's see
the rest', he said grabbing hold of the prints piling up in the drawer. 'Here,
we have... four centistadia deep... let's see... Oh! There! Look at this, First
Councillor. Corridors, stairwells... What can this be?'
'Lights, I
think.'
'Yes, a
network of lights for this... labyrinth! They are not economising. They must
have numerous batteries... and there?'
He was
scanning through more prints. Ten centistadia, thirty, forty. The prints were more fuzzy as it got deeper. Each shot
showed the outline of the previous ones.
Yet the two
Traags could make out warehouses teeming with weaponry, supplies and tools;
there were dormitories, nurseries, instruction rooms full of headsets over
which students were leaning in groups of ten.
'This really
is dangerous', said Master Singh. The rest is nothing. These headsets divulge
all our techniques and the science we have perfected over the years.'
'Your last
sentence is reassuring', argued the First Councillor, if it's taken us aeons...'
'No, you
just don't get it', the Master interrupted. 'Remember we've left our ready made
science to be plundered! All they have to do is take what took us years to
build. Look how far they've gone in a few months! Woe to us if we don't
intervene. They will overtake us! They possess fantastic assimilation
faculties. Besides, this only half surprises me. When I found out they were
communicating through telenetworks I came to the conclusion they were capable
of manufacturing teleboxes that could be carried easily. If they can do that,
they can do the rest too... let's see the latest pictures.'
The last
prints were practically indecipherable. Any reasonable interpretation was
blurred by the superimposition of shots.
'I'll get
the laboratory to clarify this', said the First Councillor.
Acting on
his words, he threw the pictures in a drawer and dictated his orders by
telebox.
'When will
they be done?' enquired the Master.
'Not before tomorrow, unfortunately.'
The
scientist sighed and cracked his old parched membranes.
'I took
other measures', said the Councillor. 'I already mentioned them to you.'
'Yes, I
know. A telebarrier!'
'The city is
almost encircled. If they have motor vehicles or spheres they will not be able
to use them.'
The old man
waved dishearteningly at the fiximages spread out on the table.
'Having seen
all this', he said, 'I wonder if they have not spotted your agents' ploy. They
are capable of
said:
'That's
hardly interesting. We already know there are Oms in this city. Did you just
work at the surface?'
'Not only,
Master', said the Councillor.
He leant
over the box and pulled out more prints.
'We also
have transfiximages'.
'What
depth?'
'Look, it is
written on the corner: 50 millistadia.'
Master Singh
looked satisfied. He bent his wrinkled head over the desk and placed his wiry
finger at the top of one of the images.
'Look here,'
he simply said.
The print
was clear. The rays had gone through the first layers without setting them onto
the film. One could see inside the ruins nearest to the camera.
'Oms!' said
the Councillor.
'Of course
Oms!' echoed the old man. 'What I am interested in is this! Those black shapes
around which the Oms are grouped in threes.'
'They
are...'
weapons, ray guns! These Oms are armed, my dear First Councillor! Do you
realize! Of course, due to their small size three are needed whereas we just
need to press the trigger with a finger. Look at that, they have modified these
weapons to their advantage. Each ray gun is mounted on a spring carriage. They
soldered levers for each trigger.'
He quickly
pored over other prints, pointing out strategically placed batteries.
'Look here!
And there... here! Three more! Considering their size this amounts to heavy
artillery! Do you realise that at the slightest offensive move your Traags
would have been killed at point-blank range?'
'How frightening!'
The Master
nodded pensively his large head wrinkled by age.
'Let's see
the rest', he said grabbing hold of the prints piling up in the drawer. 'Here,
we have... four centistadia deep... let's see... Oh! There! Look at this, First
Councillor. Corridors, stairwells... What can this be?'
'Lights, I
think.'
'Yes, a
network of lights for this... labyrinth! They are not economising. They must
have numerous batteries... and there?'
He was
scanning through more prints. Ten centistadia, thirty, forty. The prints were more fuzzy as it got deeper. Each shot
showed the outline of the previous ones.
Yet the two
Traags could make out warehouses teeming with weaponry, supplies and tools;
there were dormitories, nurseries, instruction rooms full of headsets over
which students were leaning in groups of ten.
'This really
is dangerous', said Master Singh. The rest is nothing. These headsets divulge
all our techniques and the science we have perfected over the years.'
'Your last
sentence is reassuring', argued the First Councillor, if it's taken us aeons...'
'No, you
just don't get it', the Master interrupted. 'Remember we've left our ready made
science to be plundered! All they have to do is take what took us years to
build. Look how far they've gone in a few months! Woe to us if we don't
intervene. They will overtake us! They possess fantastic assimilation
faculties. Besides, this only half surprises me. When I found out they were
communicating through telenetworks I came to the conclusion they were capable
of manufacturing teleboxes that could be carried easily. If they can do that,
they can do the rest too... let's see the latest pictures.'
The last
prints were practically indecipherable. Any reasonable interpretation was
blurred by the superimposition of shots.
'I'll get
the laboratory to clarify this', said the First Councillor.
Acting on
his words, he threw the pictures in a drawer and dictated his orders by
telebox.
'When will
they be done?' enquired the Master.
'Not before tomorrow, unfortunately.'
The
scientist sighed and cracked his old parched membranes.
'I took
other measures', said the Councillor. 'I already mentioned them to you.'
'Yes, I
know. A telebarrier!'
'The city is
almost encircled. If they have motor vehicles or spheres they will not be able
to use them.'
The old man
waved dishearteningly at the fiximages spread out on the table.
'Having seen
all this', he said, 'I wonder if they have not spotted your agents' ploy. They
are capable of
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