figurehead throughout the world, came silently across the polished floor. Bob, at the end of his night’s work on the reflector, turned in his control chair.
“Hello, Professor,” he greeted respectfully. “I was just wrapping things up for the night.”
Leeman nodded. He was a tall, gaunt, eagle-like being—forbidding in appearance yet good-natured enough upon close acquaintance.
“Feel the quake?” he asked brusquely, aiming sharp grey eyes.
“Slightly,” Bob acknowledged. “Up here we have the mass of the mountain to support us. Just as well, too with so many valuable instruments about.”
“Just so. I hear that all eastern Los Angeles has been smashed. Hundreds dead. Same old story.”
Bob said nothing, his mind flashing instantly to Mona. He could only hope that she had been in the air when the quake had struck.
“I have here a report from the geologists,” Leeman continued, taking a printed sheet from his inside pocket. “It makes hay of the idea that neutronium might be causing the earthquake trouble. Seismographers and geologists working together have positive evidence of an internal volcanic cause, so we can call the search for neutronium definitely off.”
“I understand, sir,” Bob assented. “And what about the President? Am I to tell him that?”
Leeman smiled frostily. “I have already done so. Naturally, it is no secret to any of us here that he gave you special orders. As chief curator my position ranks with yours.”
Bob said nothing. If anything, the curator was a niche higher, but he never traded on his superiority.
“What we have to do,” Leeman continued, “is follow out new Presidential orders. The geologists hold out little hope of stopping these quakes—so we have to prepare accordingly. The Space Agency have received orders to build Space Arks on the rocket-principle.... An ill-starred project, to my mind,” Leeman finished gloomily. “However, the hand of urgency is pushing us. So, then, with your staff you will work out a full report on Mars—the only planet that we might hope to colonize. That clear?”
“Clear enough, sir,” Bob agreed, reflecting. “Only I don’t really see we have much to add to information already gained from the probes we sent to Mars years ago. Planets don’t change much. Our trouble is, we don’t have any probes there at the moment that are still transmitting. The government have scaled right back on expenditure on space exploration these last few years....”
“That’s about to change,” Leeman replied, with his usual brevity. “Anyway, those are the orders, Bob; I’m leaving it to you to carry them out.”
With that he departed, leaving Bob looking thoughtfully after him. Fifteen minutes later Bob was leaving the Observatory for his State-maintained home two miles further along the mountain road. Actually, as Mona herself had remarked, it was little more than a large shack—but it served its purpose during long periods off duty. Besides, it gave him a place wherein to experiment.
He had only just risen from sleep the following afternoon when Mona came in, pulling off her flying kit wearily.
“Thank heaven you’re still safe!” Bob greeted her. “I’ve had the wind up properly after that earthquake.... Did you see a doctor as you promised?”
“Uh-huh, and I think I must have been his last patient. I’m not sure whether or not he died in the earthquake. I only just escaped in time.”
“Oh.... Well, what did he say?”
“Nothing the matter with me,” Mona answered tiredly. “Nerves like cast iron, normal blood pressure, tough heart—I’m one hell of a woman in fact! But gosh, right now I’m worn out!” She sank down on the bed edge and looked at Bob with drowsy eyes. “I’ve been flying like a scalded hen ever since I left you last night—and talking of earthquakes, this is our home until we rebuild or everything drops to bits. Our suburb in Los Angeles collapsed last night and our ancestral pile with it. I flew across the region to make sure. So there it is.”
“One home less to bother about,” Bob growled, commencing to shave vigorously.
Mona was silent for a moment; then she asked:
“Anything fresh with you?”
“Not really—’cept that we’re not looking for neutronium anymore. The geologists now believe an internal trouble is the cause of the quakes—same as you said. Our job at the Observatory is to find out everything we can about Mars, to which the high-ups are planning to evacuate some remnants of humanity. Tall order! You realize what it means, Mona? The Earth is considered doomed.”
“Yes, I know.” Mona’s voice was listless. “The flying I’ve done recently has shown me that there are crack-ups everywhere. It’s only a matter of time before these quakes bring civilization down round our ears....” A thought seemed to strike her. “Evacuation to Mars? When we haven’t even set foot on the planet yet—except for robots!”
“The President doesn’t give a thought to a trifle like that. The scientists and engineers will just have to devise something. Most people can think of something when their lives depend on it. What the World Council doesn’t understand is that it takes time to develop a massive undertaking like that.” Bob wiped his face decisively.
“To blazes with shop talk! You grab some sleep and I’ll fix up a meal. Okay?”
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