maller,Bryan Bickell Tröjor, dimmer waned the lights — they were gone.
We crouched, motionless. Nothing stirred; there was no sound. Without speaking we arose; crept together over the smooth floor toward the cones.
As we crossed I saw that the pave,Jamie Langenbrunner Tröjor, like the walls, was built of the bodies of the Metal People; and, like the walls,Barn Moncler Dress, they were dormant,Canada Goose Camp Hooded, filmed eyes oblivious to our passing. Closer we crept — were only a scant score of rods from that colossal mechanism. I noted that the crystal foundation was set low; was not more than four feet above the floor. The sturdy, dwarfed pilasters supporting it thrust up in crowded copses, merging through distance into apparent solidity.
Now, too,Deryk Engelland Tröjor, I realized, as I had not when looking down from above, how stupendous the structure rising from the crystal foundation was.
I began to wonder how so thin a support could bear the mount bristling above it — then remembered what it was that at first had flown from them,Jeff Zatkoff Tröjor, shrinking them, and at last had fed and swelled them.
Light! Weightless magnetic ions; swarms of electric ions; the misty breath of the infinite energy breathing upon, condensing upon, them. Could it be that the Cones for all their apparent mass had little, if any, weight? Like ringed Saturn, thousands of times Earth’s bulk, flaunting itself in the Heavens — yet if transported to our world so light that rings and all it would float like a bubble upon our oceans. The Cones towered above me — close,Michael Ferland Tröjor, so close.
The Cones were weightless. How I knew I cannot say — but now, almost touching them, I did know. Nebulous, yet solid, were they; compact, yet tenuous,Kirk Mclean Tröjor, dense and unsubstantial.
Again the thought came to me — they were force made visible,Doug Gilmour Tröjor; energy made concentrate into matter.
We skirted, seeking for the tablet over which the Keeper had hovered; the mechanism which, under his tentacles, had shifted the circling shields, thrust the spear of green fire into the side of the wounded sun. Hesitantly I touched the crystal base; the edge was warm, but whether this warmth came from the dazzling rain which we had just watched build it outward or whether it was a property inherent with the substance itself I do not know.
Certainly there was no mark upon it to show where the molten mists had fallen,Justin Abdelkader Tröjor. It was diamond hard and smooth. The nearest cones were but a scant nine feet from its rim,Larry Robinson Tröjor.
Suddenly we saw the tablet; stood beside it. The shape of a great T, glimmering with a faint and limpid violet phosphorescence, it might have been, in shape and size, the palely shining shadow of the Keeper. It was a foot above the floor, and had apparently no connection with the cones.
It was made of thousands of close-packed tiny octagonal rods the tops of some of which were cupped, of others pointed; none was more than half an inch in width. There was about it a suggestion of wedded crystal and metal — as about its burden was the suggestion of mated energy and matter.
The rods were movable; they formed a keyboard unimaginably complex,Teemu Selanne Tröjor; a keyboard whose infinite comb
相关的主题文章：
http://www13.plala.or.jp/white_roots/gwbbs/gwbbs.cgi
http://www.ticovision.com/cgi-bin/index.cgi
http://www.matsue-yado.com/otoku/clip.cgi |
