The Seeds of Time

… All the same, some of the mud might stick; it would be better to settle with her here and now-besides, the cylinder idea was risky; only to be considered in the last extremity. There were other ways to be tried first. Duncan reflected a few minutes longer, then he jetted himself over to the smaller dome. In there, he threw out the switches on the lines which brought power down from the main batteries charged by the sun-motor. He sat down to wait for a bit. The insulated dome would take some time to lose all its heat, but not very long for a drop in the temperature to become perceptible, and visible on the thermometers, once the heat was off. The small capacity, low voltage batteries that were in the place wouldn’t be much good to her, even if she did think of lining them up.

He waited an hour, while the faraway sun set, and the bright arc of Callisto began to show over the horizon. Then he went back to the dome’s window to observe results. He airrved just in time to see Leslie fastening herself into her spacesuit by the light of a couple of emergency lamps.

He swore. A simple freezing out process wasn’t going to work, then. Not only would the heated suit protect her, but her air supply would last longer than his-and there were plenty of spare bottles in there even if the free air in the dome should freeze solid.

He waited until she had put on the helmet, and then switched on the radio in his own. He saw her pause at the sound of his voice, but she did not reply. Presently she deliberately switched off her receiver. He did not; he kept his open, to be ready for the moment when she should come to her senses.

Duncan returned to the apron, and reconsidered. It had been his intention to force his way into the dome without damaging it, if he could. But if she wasn’t to be frozen out, that looked difficult. She had the advantage of him in air and though it was true that in her spacesuit she could neither eat nor drink, the same, unfortunately, was true for him. The only way seemed to be to tackle the dome itself.

Reluctantly, he went back to the small dome again, and connected up the electrical cutter. Its cable looped behind him as he jetted across to the main dome once more. Beside the curving metal wall, he paused to think out the job-and the consequences. Once he was through the outer shell there would be a space; then the insulating material-that was okay, it would melt away like butter, and without oxygen it could not catch fire. The more awkward part was going to come with the inner metal skin. It would be wisest to start with a few small cuts to let the air-pressure down-and stand clear of it: if it were all to come out with a whoosh he would stand a good chance in his weightless state of being blown a considerable distance by it. And what would she do? Well, she’d very likely try covering up the holes as he made them-a bit awkward if she had the sense to use asbestos packing: it’d have to be the whoosh then….

Both shells could be welded up again before he re-aerated the place from cylinders…. The small loss of insulating material wouldn’t matter…. Okay, better get down to it, then….

He made his connections, and contrived to anchor himself enough to give some purchase. He brought the cutter up, and pressed the trigger-switch. He pressed again, and then swore, remembering that he had shut off the power.

He pulled himself back along the cable, and pushed the switches in again. Light from the dome’s windows suddenly illuminated the rocks. He wondered if the restoration of power would let Lellie know what he was doing. What if it did? She’d know soon enough, anyway.

He settled himself down beside the dome once more. This time the cutter worked. It took only a few minutes to slice out a rough, two-foot circle. He pulled the piece out of the way, and inspected the opening. Then, as he levelled the cutter again, there came a click in his receiver: Lellie’s voice spoke in his ear:

‘Better not try to break in. I’m ready for that.’

He hesitated, checking himself with his finger on the switch, wondering what counter-move she could have thought up. The threat in her voice made him uneasy. He decided to go round to the window, and see what her game was, if she had one.

She was standing by the table, still dressed in her spacesuit, fiddling with some apparatus she had set up there. For a moment or two he did not grasp the purpose of it.

There was a plastic food-bag, half-inflated, and attached in some way to the table top. She was adjusting a metal plate over it to a small clearance. There was a wire, scotch-taped to the upper side of the bag. Duncan’s eye ran back along the wire to a battery, a coil, and on to a detonator attached to a bundle of half a dozen blasting-sticks….

He was uncomfortably enlightened. It was very simple, ought to be perfectly effective. If the air-pressure in the room should fall, the bag would expand: the wire would make contact with the plate: up would go the dome….

Lellie finished her adjustment, and connected the second wire to the battery. She turned to look at him through the window. It was infuriatingly difficult to believe that behind that silly surprise frozen on her face she could be properly aware what she was doing.

Duncan tried to speak to her, but she had switched off, and made no attempt to switch on again. She simply stood looking steadily back at him as he blustered and raged. After some minutes she moved across to a chair, fastened the spring-cover across herself, and sat waiting.