later, that jewel-like illusion was destroyed as a ripple disturbed the shimmering surface, and a human figure formed and was spat out. Eugene Lockwood's first step on an alien planet was more like a humiliating belly flop. From his briefing, he knew he was inside a giant pyramid, in a good-sized hall. What he didn't expect was the godawful racket of a gasoline-powered generator powering a temporary light system. The explosions of the machine's internal combustion engine echoed off the dressed-stone walls. Lockwood moved from the StarGate chamber down a hallway to a wider room set with what appeared to be beaten-copper disks vertically arranged on the floor and ceiling.
His briefing described this room as the site of some sort of shortrange matter transmitter. Beyond was a rising ramp, a huge stone gallery, which then widened into a pillared entrance hall. Here he caught up with the people he'd come to see-the UMC blasting team assembling demolition charges around the narrow exit to the outside world. In contrast to the generous proportions of the inside passages, the entrance itself was a virtual bottleneck, barely as wide as the height of a tall man. Lockwood cast an anxious glance at the planted explosives as the team wired up the detonators. "You're sure this will work?" he asked the head blaster, a short, red-faced man who worked with a slightly soggy, unlit cigar clamped between his teeth. The look the explosives expert gave his boss was almost hot enough to set off the blasting charges. "We've checked the load-bearing limits of the stones, and we know how to site a blast. All our shaped charges will do is widen that doorwayunless you want to bring all the equipment you send to this joint in small pieces."
"But it won't harm the StarGate?" the nervous Lockwood pressed. "That doodad is about as far from the discharge as you can get," the demolitions expert replied. "But we're gonna set up some blast shields just in case." He ran an experienced eye over his subordinates' work.
"Perfect," he declared, his cigar at a jaunty angle. "When this blows out, we'll use the rubble to help widen the ramp leading up to the door." They unspooled detonator wires backward to the StarGate chamber.
More men and materials were arriving from Earth. Heavy steel shields and braces moved forward to block the entrances to the StarGate and transporter rooms. "We're ready to go," the blaster announced. So Lockwood did, heading back to Earth. It seemed that no sooner had he arrived and pulled himself together than the blaster came hurtling out of the StarGate. "Crank 'em up, boys!" he cried to the other workers in the converted missile silo. If the noise in the StarGate chamber had been loud, the roar that filled the converted missile silo was deafening. The heavy engines of the earthmovers stationed in front of the StarGate throbbed with power, a low counterpart to the cycling of the gate itself. Lockwood felt a moment's sympathy for the Army sentries permanently posted at the transition point. The tumult was like a physical blow. Those poor grunts must be practically numb. THREE
bulldozers stood ready to move to Abydos. The first ground its way up the expanded and strengthened ramp to the rippling energy lens, moved through, and disappeared. Remembering his own disorientation, Lockwood fervently hoped that the driver remembered to cut the engine as he hit the threshold. The StarGate cycled down, giving the first machine time to move out. A few minutes later, power was fed again to the alien construction, and the second earthmover passed through. Lockwood waited until the third construction digger had arrived on Abydos before risking the
StarGate again. He arrived to find that the bulldozers had already cleared the blast-shields from the passageway. Following gingerly after the throbbing mechanisms, Lockwood and the blasting chief retraced their steps through the chambers and up the ramp. As they reached the entrance hall, the executive
His briefing described this room as the site of some sort of shortrange matter transmitter. Beyond was a rising ramp, a huge stone gallery, which then widened into a pillared entrance hall. Here he caught up with the people he'd come to see-the UMC blasting team assembling demolition charges around the narrow exit to the outside world. In contrast to the generous proportions of the inside passages, the entrance itself was a virtual bottleneck, barely as wide as the height of a tall man. Lockwood cast an anxious glance at the planted explosives as the team wired up the detonators. "You're sure this will work?" he asked the head blaster, a short, red-faced man who worked with a slightly soggy, unlit cigar clamped between his teeth. The look the explosives expert gave his boss was almost hot enough to set off the blasting charges. "We've checked the load-bearing limits of the stones, and we know how to site a blast. All our shaped charges will do is widen that doorwayunless you want to bring all the equipment you send to this joint in small pieces."
"But it won't harm the StarGate?" the nervous Lockwood pressed. "That doodad is about as far from the discharge as you can get," the demolitions expert replied. "But we're gonna set up some blast shields just in case." He ran an experienced eye over his subordinates' work.
"Perfect," he declared, his cigar at a jaunty angle. "When this blows out, we'll use the rubble to help widen the ramp leading up to the door." They unspooled detonator wires backward to the StarGate chamber.
More men and materials were arriving from Earth. Heavy steel shields and braces moved forward to block the entrances to the StarGate and transporter rooms. "We're ready to go," the blaster announced. So Lockwood did, heading back to Earth. It seemed that no sooner had he arrived and pulled himself together than the blaster came hurtling out of the StarGate. "Crank 'em up, boys!" he cried to the other workers in the converted missile silo. If the noise in the StarGate chamber had been loud, the roar that filled the converted missile silo was deafening. The heavy engines of the earthmovers stationed in front of the StarGate throbbed with power, a low counterpart to the cycling of the gate itself. Lockwood felt a moment's sympathy for the Army sentries permanently posted at the transition point. The tumult was like a physical blow. Those poor grunts must be practically numb. THREE
bulldozers stood ready to move to Abydos. The first ground its way up the expanded and strengthened ramp to the rippling energy lens, moved through, and disappeared. Remembering his own disorientation, Lockwood fervently hoped that the driver remembered to cut the engine as he hit the threshold. The StarGate cycled down, giving the first machine time to move out. A few minutes later, power was fed again to the alien construction, and the second earthmover passed through. Lockwood waited until the third construction digger had arrived on Abydos before risking the
StarGate again. He arrived to find that the bulldozers had already cleared the blast-shields from the passageway. Following gingerly after the throbbing mechanisms, Lockwood and the blasting chief retraced their steps through the chambers and up the ramp. As they reached the entrance hall, the executive
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