imprinted pencils

"Fishing once more? "imprinted pencils imprinted pencilstimprinted pencilse 128 .In using this system, absentee voters wereimprinted pencils instructed to mark their ballots with number two pencils. The optic By force of circumstance, Floyd was now one of the Solar System's ten greatest experts on Jupiter; the other nine were working or sleeping around him. He saw at once that there was something very odd about this spot; it was so black that it looked like a hole punched through the clouds. From his point of view it appeared to be a sharp-edged ellipse; Floyd guessed that from directly above, it would be a perfect circle.

He recorded a few images, then increased the power to maximum. Already Jupiter's rapid spin had brought the formation into clearer view; and the more he stared, the more puzzled Floyd became.

'Vasili,' he called over the intercom, 'if you can spare a minute - have a look at the fifty-centimetre monitor.'

'What are you observing? Is it important? I'm cimprinted pencilshecking the orbit.'

'Take your time, of course. But I've found that spot Mission Control reported. It looks very peculiar.'

'Hell! I'd forgotten all about it. We're a fine lot of observers if those guys back on Earth have to tell us where to look. Give me another five minutes - it won't run away.'

True enough, thought Floyd; in fact it will get clearer. And there was no disgrace in missing something that terrestrial - or lunar - astronomers had observed. Jupiter was very big, they had been very busy, and the telescopes on the Moon and in Earth orbit were a hundred times more powerful than the instrument he was using now.

But it was getting more and more peculiar. For the first time, Floyd began to feel a distinct sense of unease. Until that moment, it had never occurred to him that the spot could be anything but a natural formation - some trick of Jupiter's incredibly complex meteorology. Now he began to wonder.

It was so black, like night itself. And so symmetrical; as it came into clearer view it was obviously a perfect circle. Yet it was not sharply defined; the edge had an odd fuzziness, as if it was a little out of focus.

Was it imagination, or had it grown, even while he was watching? He made a quick estimate, and decided that the thing was now two thousand kilometres across. It was only a little smaller than the still-visible shadow of Europa, but was so much darker that there was no risk of confusion.

'Let's have a look,' said Vasili, in a rather condescending tone. 'What do you think you've found? Oh...' His voice trailed away into silence.

This is it, thought Floyd, with a sudden icy conviction. Whatever it may be.

 

imprinted pencils

47

Final Flyby

 

Yet on further reflection, after the initial amazement had worn off, it was hard to see how a spreading black stain on the face of Jupiter could represent any kind of danger. It was extraordinary - inexplicable - but not as important as the critical events now only seven hours in the future. A successful burn at perijove was all that mattered; they would have plenty of time to study mysterious black spots on the way home.

And to sleep; Floyd had given up all attempts at that.

Though the feeling of danger - at least, of known danger - was much less than on their first approach to Jupiter, a mixture of excitement and apprehension kept him wide awake. The excitement was natural and understandable; the apprehension had more complex causes. Floyd made it a rule never to worry about events over which he could have absolutely no control; any external threat would reveal itself in due time and be dealt with then. But he could not help wondering if they had done everything possible to safeguard the ships.

Apart from onboard mechanical failures, there were two main sources of concern. Although the tapes that secured Leonov and Discovery together had shown no tendency to slip, their severest test was still to come. Almost equally critical would be the moment of separation when the smallest of the explosive charges once intended to jolt Big Brother would be used at uncomfortably close quarters. And, of course, there was Hal.

He had carried out the deorbiting manoeuvre with exquisite precision. He had run the simulations of the Jupiter flyby, right down to Discovery's last drop of fuel, without any comments or objections. And although Chandra, as agreed, had carefully explained what they were trying to do, did Hal really understand what was happening?

Floyd had one overriding concern, which in the preceding few days haimprinted pencilsd become almost an obsession. He could picture everything going perfectly, the ships halfway through the final manoeuvre, the enormous disk of Jupiter filling the sky only a few hundred kilometres below them - and then Hal electronically clearing his throat and saying:

'Dr Chandra, do you mind if I ask you a question?' It did not happen exactly that way.

 

The Great Black Spot, as it had been inevitably christened, was now being carried out of sight by Jupiter's swift rotation. In a few hours the still-accelerating ships would catch up with it over the nightside of the planet, but this was the last chance for a close daylight observation.

It was still growing at an extraordinary speed; in the last two hours, it had more than doubled its area. Except for the fact that it retained its blackness as it expanded, it resembled an ink-stain spreading in water. Its boundary - now moving at near-sonic speed in the Jovian atmosphere - still looked curiously fuzzy and out of focus; at the very highest power of the ship's telescope, the reason for this was at last apparent.

Unlike the Great Red Spot, the Great Black Spot was not a continuous structure; it was built up from myriads of tiny dots, like a half-tone print viewed through a magnifying glass. Over most of its area, the dots were so closely spaced that they were almost touching, but at the rim they became more and more widely spaced, so that the Spot ended in a grey penumbra rather than at a sharp frontier.

There must have been almost a millioimprinted pencilsn of the mysterious dots, and they were distinctly elongated - ellipses rather than circles. Katerina, the least imaginative person aboard, surprised everybody by saying that it looked as if someone had taken a sackful of rice, dyed it black, and poured it on the face of Jupiter.

And now the Sun was dropping down behind the huge, swiftly narrowing arch of the dayside, as for the second time Leonov raced into the Jovian night for an appointment with destiny. In less than thirty minutes the final burn would commence, and things would start to happen very quickly indeed.

Floyd wondered if he should have joined Chandra and Curnow, standing watch on Discovery. But there was nothing he could do; in an emergency, he would only be in the way. The cut-off switch was in Curnow's pocket, and Floyd knew that the younger man's reactions were a good deal swifter than his own. If Hal showed the slightest sign of misbehaviour, he could be disconnected in less than a second, but Floyd felt certain that such extreme measures would not be necessary. Since he had been allowed to do things his own way, Chandra had cooperated completely in setting up the procedures for a manual takeover, should that unfortunate necessity arise. Floyd was confident that he could be trusted to carry out his duty - however much he might regret the need.

Curnow was not quite so sure. He would be happier, he had told Floyd, if he had multiple redundancy in the form of a second cut-off switch - for Chandra. Meanwhile there was nothing that anyone could do but wait and watch the approaching cloudscape of the nightside, dimly visible by the reflected light of passing satellites, the glow of photo-chemical reactions, and frequent titanic lightning flashes from thunderstorms larger than Earth.

The sun winked out behind them, eclipsed in seconds by the immeimprinted pencilsnse globe they were so swiftly approaching. When they saw it again, they should be on their way home.

'Twenty minutes to ignition. All systems nominal.'

'Thank you, Hal.'

I wonder if Chandra was being quite truthful, thought Curnow, when he said that Hal would be confused if anyone else spoke to him. I've talked to him often enough, when nobody was around, and he always understood me perfectly. Still, there's not much time left for friendly conversation now, though it would help to reduce the strain.

What's Hal really thinking - if he thinks - about the mission? All his life, Curnow had shied away from abstract, philosophical questions: I'm a nuts-and-bolts man, he had often claimed, though there were not too many of either in a spaceship. Once, he would have laughed at the idea, but now he began to wonder: Did Hal sense that he would soon be abandoned, and if so, would he resent it? Curnow almost reached for the cut-off switch in his pocket, but checked himself. He had already done this so often that Chandra might be getting suspicious.

For the hundredth time, he rehearsed the sequence of events that were due to take place during the next hour. The moment that Discovery's fuel was exhausted, they would close down all but essential systems, and dash back to Leonov through the connecting tube. That would be decoupled, the explosive charges would be fired, the ships would drift apart - and Leonov's own engines would start to fire. The separation should take place, if everything went according to plan, just when they were making their closest approach to Jupiter; that would take maximum advantage of the planet's gravitational largesse.

'Fifteen minutes to ignition. All systems nominal.'

'Thank you, Hal.'

'By the way,' saidimprinted pencils Vasili, from the other ship, 'we're catching up with the Great Black Spot again. Wonder if we can see anything new.'

I rather hope not, thought Curnow; we've got quite enough on our hands at the moment. Nevertheless, he gave a quick glance at the image Vasili was transmitting on the telescope monitor.

At first he could see nothing except the faintly glimmering nightside of the planet; then he saw, on the horizon, a foreshortened circle of deeper darkness. They were rushing toward it with incredible speed.

Vasili increased the light amplification, and the entire image brightened magically. At last, the Great Black Spot resolved itself into its myriad identical elements.

My God, thought Curnow, I just don't believe it!

imprinted pencils

He heard exclamations of surprise from Leonov: all the others had shared in the same revelation at the same moment.

'Dr Chandra,' said Hal, 'I detect strong vocal stress patterns. Is there a problem?'

'No, Hal,' Chandra answered quickly. 'The mission is proceeding normally. We've just had rather a surprise - that's all. What do you make of the image on monitor circuit 16?'

'I see the nightside of Jupiter. Theimprinted pencilsre is a circular area, 3,250 kilometres in diameter, which is almost compietely covered with rectangular objects.'

'How many?'

There was the briefest of pauses, before Hal flashed the number on the video display:

 

1,355,000 � 1,000

 

imprinted pencils

'And do you recognize them?'

'Yes. They are identical in size and shape to the object you refer to as Big Brother. Ten minutes to ignition. All systems nominal.'

Mine aren't, thought Curnow. So the damn thing's gone down to Jupiter - and multiplied. There was something simultaneously comic and sinister about a plague of black monoliths; and to his puzzled surprise, that incredible image on the monitor screen had a certain weird familiarity.

Of course - that was it! Those myriad, identical black rectangles reminded him of - dominoes. Years ago, he had seen a video documentary showing how a team of slightly crazy Japanese had patiently stood a million dominoes on end, so that when the very first one was toppled, all the others would inevitably follow. They had been arranged in complex patterns, some underwater, some up and down little stairways, others along multiple tracks so that they formed pictures and patterns as they fell. It had taken weeks to set them up; Curnow remembered now that earthquakes had several times foiled the enterprise, and the final toppling, from first domino to the last, had taken more than an hour.

'Eight minutes to ignition. All systems nominal. Dr Chandra - may I make a suggestion?'

'What is it, Hal?'

'This is a very unusual phenomenon. Do you not think I should abort the countdown, so that you can remain to study it?'

Aboard Leonov, Floyd started to move quickly toward the bridge. Tanya and Vasili might be needing him. Not to mention Chandra and Curnow - what a situation! And suppose Chandra took Hal's side? If he did - they might both be right! After all, was this not the very reason they had come here?

If they stopped timprinted pencilshe countdown, the ships would loop around Jupiter and be back at precisely the same spot in nineteen hours. A nineteen-hour hold would create no problems; if it was not for that enigmatic warning, he would have strongly recommended it himself.

But they had very much more than a warning. Below them was a planetary plague spreading across the face of Jupiter. Perhaps they were indeed running away from the most extraordinary phenomenon in the history of science. Even so, he preferred to study it from a safer distance.

'Six minutes to ignition,' said Hal. 'All systems nominal. I am ready to stop the countdown if you agree. Let me remind you that my prime directive is to study everything in Jupiter space that may be connected with intelligence.'

Floyd recognized that phrase all too well: he had written it himself. He wished he could delete it from Hal's memory.

A moment later, he had reached the bridge and joined the Orlovs. They both looked at him with alarmed concern.

'What do you recommend?' asked Tanya swiftly.

'It's up to Chandra, I'm afraid. Can I speak to himimprinted pencils - on the private line?'

Vasili handed over the microphone.

'Chandra? I assume that Hal can't hear this?'

'Correct, Dr Floyd.'

'You've got to talk quickly. Persuade him that the countdown must continue, that we appreciate his - er, scientific enthusiasm - ah, that's the right angle - say we're confident that he can do the job without our help. And we'll be in touch with him all the time, of course.'

'Five minutes to ignition. All systems nominal. I am still waiting for your answer, Dr Chandra.'

So are we all, thought Curnow, only a metre away from the scientist. And if I do have to push that button at last, it will be something of a relief. In fact, I'll rather enjoy it.

'Very well, Hal. Continue the countdown. I have every confidence in your ability to study all phenomena in Jupiter space, without our supervision. Of course, we will be in touch with you at all times.'

'Four minutes to ignition. All imprinted pencilssystems nominal. Propellant-tank pressurization completed. Voltage steady on plasma trigger. Are you sure you are making the right decision, Dr Chandra? I enjoy working with human beings and have a stimulating relationship with them. Ship's attitude correct to point one milliradian.'

'We enjoy working with you, Hal. And we will still be doing so, even if we are millions of kilometres away.'

'Three minutes to ignition. All systems nominal, Radiation shielding checked. There is a problem of the time lag, Dr Chandra. It may be necessary to consult each other without any delay.'

This is insane, Curnow thought, his hand now never far from the cut-off switch. I really believe that Hal is - lonely. Is he mimicking some part of Chandra's personality that we never suspected?

The lights flickered, so imperceptibly that only someone familiar with every nuance of Discovery's behaviour would have noticed. It could be good news or bad - the plasma firing sequence starting, or being terminated...

He risked a quick glance at Chandra; the little scientist'imprinted pencilss face was drawn and haggard, and for almost the first time Curnow felt real sympathy for him as another human being. And he remembered the startling information that Floyd had confided in him - Chandra's offer to stay with the ship, and keep Hal company on the three-year voyage home. He had heard no more of the idea, and presumably it had been quietly forgotten after the warning. But perhaps Chandra was being tempted again; if he was, there was nothing that he could do about it at that stage. There would be no time to make the necessary preparations, even if they stayed on for another orbit and delayed their departure beyond the deadline. Which Tanya would certainly not permit after all that had now happened.

'Hal,' whispered Chandra, so quietly that Curnow could scarcely hear him. 'We have to leave. I don't have time to give you all the reasons, but I can assure you it's true.'

'Two minutes to ignition. All systems nominal. Final sequence started. I am sorry that you are unable to stay. Can you give me some of the reasons, in order of importance?'

'Not in two minutes, Himprinted pencilsal. Proceed with the countdown. I will explain everything later. We still have more than an hour together.'

Hal did not answer. The silence stretched on and on. Surely the one-minute announcement was overdue ...

Curnow glanced at the clock. My God, he thought, Hal's missed it! Has he stopped the countdown?

Curnow's hand fumbled uncertainly for the switch. What do I do now? I wish Floyd would say something, dammit, but he's probably afraid of making things worse...

I'll wait until time zero - no, it's not that critical, let's say an extra minute - then I'll zap him and we'll go over to manual...

From far, far away there came a faint, whistling imprinted pencilsscream, like the sound of a tornado marching just below the edge of the horizon. Discovery started to vibrate; there was the first intimation of returning gravity.

'Ignition,' said Hal. 'Full thrust at T plus fifteen seconds.'

'Thank ,you, Hal,' replied Chandra.

 

48

Over the Nightside

 

To Heywood Floyd, aboard the suddenly unfamiliar - because no longer weightless - environment of Leonov's flight deck, the sequence of events had seemed more like a classic slow-motion nightmare than reality. Only once before in his life had he known a similar situation, when he had been in the back of a car during an uncontrollable skid. There had been that same sense of utter helplessness - coupled with the thought: This doesn't really matter - it's not actually happening to me.

Now that the firing sequence had started, his mood changed; everything seemed real again. It was working out exactly as they had planned; Hal was guiding them safely back to Earth. With every minute that passed, their future was becoming more secure; Floyd began slowly to relax, even though he remained alert to all that was happening around him.

For the very last time - and when would any man come here again? - he was flying over the nightside of the greatest of planets, encompassing the volume of a thousand Earths. The ships had been rolled so that Leonov was between Discovery and Jupiter, and their view of the mysteriously glimmering cloudscape was not blocked. Even now, dozens of instruments were busily probing and recording; Hal would continue the work when they were gone.

Since the immediate crisis was over, Floyd moved cautiously 'down' from the flight deck-how strange to feel weight again, even if it was only ten kilos! - and joined Zenia and Katerina in the observation lounge. Apart from the very faintest of red emergency lights, it had been completely blacked out so that they could admire the view with unimpaired night vision. He felt sorry for Max Brailovsky and Sasha Kovalev, who were sitting in the airlock, fully suited up, missing the marvellous spectacle. They had to be ready to leave at a moment's notice to cut the straps securing the ships together - if any of the explosive charges failed to operate.

Jupiter filled the entire sky; it was a mere fiveimprinted pencils hundred kilometres away, so they could see only a tiny fraction of its surface - no more than one could see of Earth from an altitude of fifty kilometres. As his eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, most of it reflected from the icy crust of distant Europa, Floyd could make out a surprising amount of detail. There was no colour at the low level of illumination - except for a hint of red here and there - but the banded structure of the clouds was very distinct, and he could see the edge of a small cyclonic storm looking like an oval island covered with snow. The Great Black Spot had long since fallen astern, and they would not see it again until they were well on the way home.

Down there beneath the clouds, occasional explosions of light flared, many of them obviously caused by the Jovian equivalent of thunderstorms. But other glows and outbursts of luminescence were more long-lived, and of more uncertain origin. Sometimes rings of light would spread out like shock waves from a central source; and occasional rotating beams and fans occurred. It required little imagination to pretend that they were proof of a technological civilization down beneath those clouds - the lights of cities, the beacons of airports. But radar and balloon probes had long ago proved that nothing solid was down there for thousands upon thousands of kilometres, all the way to the unattainable core of the planet.

Midnight on Jupiter! The last close-up glimpse was a magical interlude he would remember all his life. He could enjoy it all the more because, surely, nothing could now go wrong; and even if it did, he would have no reason to reproach himself He had done everything possible to ensure success.

It was very quiet in the lounge; no one wished to speak as the caimprinted pencilsrpet of clouds unrolled swiftly beneath them. Every few minutes Tanya or Vasili announced the status of the burn; toward the end of Discovery's firing time, tension began to increase again. This was the critical moment - and no one knew exactly when it would be. There was some doubt as to the accuracy of the fuel gauges, and the burn would continue until they were completely dry.

'Estimated cut-off in ten seconds,' said Tanya. 'Walter, Chandra - get ready to come back. Max, Vasili - stand by in case you're needed. Five... four... three... two... one... zero!'

There was no change; the faint scream of Discovery's engines still reached them through the thickness of the two hulls, and the thrust-induced weight still continued to grip their limbs. We're in luck, thought Floyd; the gauges must have been reading low, after all. Every second of extra firing was a bonus; it might even mean the difference between life and death. And how strange to hear a countup instead of a countdown!

five seconds... ten seconds... thirteen seconds. That's it - lucky thirteen!'

Weightlessness, and silence, returned. On both ships, there was a brief burst of cheering. It was quickly truncated, for much was still to be done - and it had to be done swiftly.

Floyd was temptedimprinted pencils to go to the airlock so that he could give his congratulations to Chandra and Curnow as soon as they came aboard. But he would only be in the way; the airlock would be a very busy place as Max and Sasha prepared for their possible EVA and the tubeway joining the two ships was disconnected. He would wait in the lounge, to greet the returning heroes.

And he could now relax even further - perhaps from eight to seven, on a scale of ten. For the first time in weeks, he could forget about the radio cut-off. It would never be needed; Hal had performed impeccably. Even if he wished, he could do nothing to affect the mission since Discovery's last drop of propellant had been exhausted.

'All aboard,' announced Sasha. 'Hatches sealed. I'm going to fire the charges.'

There was not the faintest sound as the explosives were detonated, which surprised Floyd; he had expected some noise to be transmitted through the straps, taut as steel bands, that linked the ships together. But there was no doubt that they had gone off as planned, for Leonov gave a series of tiny shudders, as if someone was tapping on the hull. A minute later, Vasili triggered the attitude jets for a single brief burst.

'We're free!' he shouted. 'Sashaimprinted pencils, Max - you won't be needed!imprinted pencils Everyone get to your hammocks - ignition in one hundred seconds!'

And now Jupiter was rolling away, and a strange new shape appeared outside the window - the long, skeletal frame of Discovery, navigation lights still shining as it drifted away from them and into history. No time remained for sentimental farewells; in less than a minute Leonov's drive would start to operate.

Floyd had never heard it under full power and wanted to protect his ears from the roaring scream that now filled the universe. Leonov's designers had not wasted payload on sound-insulation that would be needed for only a few hours of a voyage that would last for years. And his weight seemed enormous - yet it was barely a quarter of that which he had known all his life.

Within minutes, Discovery had vanished astern, though the flash of its warning beacon could be seen until it had dropped below the horizon. Once again, Floyd told himself, I'm rounding Jupiter - this time gaining speed, not losing it. He glanced across at Zenia, just visible in the darkness with her nose pressed to the observation window. Was she also recalling that last occasion, when they shared the hammock together? There was no danger of incineration now; at least she would not be terrified of that particular fate. Anyway, she seemed a much more confident and cheerful person, undoubtedly thanks to Max - and perhaps Walter as well.

She must have become aware of his scrutiny, for she turned and smiled, then gestured toward the unwinding cloudscape below.

'Look!' she shouted in his ear, 'Jupiter has a new moon!'

What is she trying to say? Floyd asked himself. Her English still isn't very good, but she couldn't possibly have made a mistake in a simple sentence like that. I'm sure I heard her correctly - yet she's pointing downward, not upward.

And then he realized that the scene immediately below them had become much brighter; he could even see yellows and greens that had been quite invisible before. Something far more brilliant than Europa was shining on the Jovian clouds.

Leonov itself, many times brighter than Jupiter's noonday sun, had brought a false dawn to the world it was leaving forever. A hundred-kilometre-long plume of incandescent plasma was trailing behind the ship, as the exhaust from the Sakharov Drive dissipated its remaining energies in the vacuum of space.

Vasili was making an announcement, but the words were completely unintelligible. Floyd glanced at his watch; yes, that would be right about now. They had achieved Jupiter escape velocity. The giant could never recapture them.

And then, thousands of kilometres ahead, a great bow of brilliant light appeared in the sky - the first glimpse of the real Jovian dawn, as full of promise as any rainbow on Earth. Seconds later the Sun leaped up to greet them - the glorious Sun, that would now grow brighter and closer every day.

A few more minutes of steady acceleration, and Leonov would be launched irrevocably on the long voyage home. Floyd felt an overwhelming sense of relief and relaxation. The immutable laws of celestial mechanics would guide him through the inner Solar System, past the tangled orbits of the asteroids, past Mars - nothing could stop him from reaching Earth.

In the euphoria of the moment, he had forgotten all about timprinted pencilshe mysterious black stain, expanding across the face of Jupiter.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

49

Devourer of Worlds

 

They saw it again the next morning, ship's time, as it came around to the dayside of Jupiter. The area of darkness had now spread until it covered an appreciable fraction of the planet, and at last they were able to study it at leisure, and in detail.

'Do you know what it reminds me of?' said Katerina. 'A virus attacking a cell. The way a phage injects its DNA into a bacterium, and then multiplies until it takes over.'

'Are you suggesting,' asked Tanya incredulously, 'that Zagadka is eating Jupiter?'

'It certainly looks like it.'

'No wonder Jupiter is beginning to look sick. But hydrogen and helium won't make a very nourishing diet, and there's not much else in that atmosphere. Only a few percent of other elements.'

'Which adds up to some quintillions of tons of sulphur and carbon and phosphorus and everything else at the lower end of the periodic table,' Sasha pointed out. 'In any case, we're talking about a technology that can probably do anything that doesn't defy the laws of physics. If you have hydrogen, what more do you need? With the right know-how, you can synthesize all the other elements from it.'

'They're sweeping up Jupiter - that's for sure,' said Vasili. 'Look at this.'

An extreme close-up of one of the myriad identical rectangles was now displayed on the telescope monitor. Even to the naked eye, it was obvious that streams of gas were flowing into the two smaller faces; the patterns of turbulence looked very much like the lines of force revealed by iron filings, clustered around the ends of a bar magnet.

'A million vacuum cleaners,' said Curnow, 'sucking up Jupiter's atmosphere. But why? And what are they doing with it?'

'And how do they reproduce?' asked Max. 'Have you caught any of them in the act?'

'Yes and no,' answered Vasili. 'We're too far away to see details, but it's a kind of fission - like an amoeba.'

'You mean - they split in two, and the halves grow back to the original size?'

'Nyet. There aren't any little Zagadki - they seem to grow until they've doubled in thickness, then split down the middle to produce identical twins, exactly the same size as the original. And the cycle repeats itself in approximately two hours.'

'Two hours!' exclaimed Floyd. 'No wonder that they've spread over half the planet. It's a textbook case of exponential growth.'

'I know what they are!' said Ternovsky in sudden excitement. 'They're von Neumann machines!'

'I believe you're right,' said Vasili. 'But that still doesn't explain what they're doing. Giving them a label isn't all that much help.'

'And what,' asked Katerina plaintively, 'is a von Neumann machine? Explain, please.'

Orlov and Floyd started speaking simultaneously. They stopped in some confusion, then Vasili laughed and waved to the American.

'Suppose you had a very big engineering job to do, Katerina - and I mean big, like strip-mining the entire face of the Moon. You could build millions of machines to do it, but that might take centuries. If you were clever enough, you'd make just one machine - but with the ability to reproduce itself from the raw materials around it. So you'd start a chain reaction, and in a very short time, you'd have bred enough machines to do the job in decades, instead of millennia. With a sufficiently high rate of reproduction, you could do virtually anything in as short a period of time as you wished. The Space Agency's been toying with the idea for years - and I know you have as well, Tanya.'

'Yes: exponentiating machines. One idea that even Tsiolkovski didn't think of.'

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