The Fountains of Paradise - Arthur C. Clarke Page 0,76
they had joked over the fact that Kingsley had such an aversion to heights that he never inspected the structures he designed. His fear fell short of genuine acrophobia, and he could overcome it when absolutely necessary. He had, after all, joined Morgan in stepping from Africa to Europe. But that was the only time that anyone had ever seen him drunk in public, and he was not seen at all for twenty-four hours afterward.
Kingsley was out of the question, even though Morgan knew that he would be prepared to go. There were times when technical ability and sheer courage were not enough. No man could fight against fears that had been implanted in him at his birth, or during his earliest childhood.
Fortunately, there was no need to explain this to the Safety Officer. There was a simpler and equally valid reason why Kingsley should not go. Only a few times in his life had Morgan been glad of his small size; this was one of them.
“I’m fifteen kilos lighter than Kingsley,” he told Bartok. “In a marginal operation like this, that should settle the matter. So let’s not waste any more precious time in argument.”
He felt a slight twinge of conscience, knowing that this was unfair. Bartok was only doing his job, very efficiently, and it would be another hour before the capsule was ready. No one was wasting any time.
For long seconds, the two men stared into each other’s eyes, as if the twenty-five thousand kilometers between them did not exist. If there was a direct trial of strength, the situation could be messy. Bartok was nominally in charge of all safety operations, and could theoretically overrule even the Chief Engineer and Project Manager. But he might find it difficult to enforce his authority. Both Morgan and Spider were far below him, on Sri Kanda, and possession was nine points of the law.
Bartok shrugged his shoulders, and Morgan relaxed.
“You have a point. I’m still not too happy, but I’ll go along with you. Good luck.”
“Thank you,” Morgan answered quietly as the image faded from the screen. Turning to the silent Kingsley, he said: “Let’s go.”
Only as they were leaving the operations room, on the way back to the summit, did Morgan automatically feel for the little pendant concealed beneath his shirt. CORA had not bothered him for months, and not even Kingsley knew of her existence. Was he gambling with other lives as well as his own just to satisfy his selfish pride? If Safety Officer Bartok had known about this…
It was too late now. Whatever his motives, he was committed.
46. Spider
How the mountain had changed, thought Morgan, since he had first seen it! The summit had been entirely sheared away, leaving a perfectly level plateau. At its center was the giant “saucepan lid,” sealing the shaft that would soon carry the traffic of many worlds. Strange to think that the greatest spaceport in the solar system would be deep inside the heart of a mountain…
No one could have guessed that an ancient monastery had once stood here, focusing the hopes and fears of billions for at least three thousand years. The only token that remained was the ambiguous bequest of the Mahanayake Thero, now crated and waiting to be moved. But so far, neither the authorities at Yakkagala nor the director of the Ranapura Museum had shown much enthusiasm for Kalidasa’s ill-omened bell.
The last time it had tolled, the peak had been swept by that brief but eventful gale—a wind of change indeed. Now the air was almost motionless, as Morgan and his aides walked slowly to the waiting capsule, glittering beneath the inspection lights. Someone had stenciled the name SPIDER MARK II on the lower part of the housing; and beneath that had been scrawled the promise: WE DELIVER THE GOODS. I hope so, thought Morgan.
Every time he came here, he found it more difficult to breathe, and he looked forward to the flood of oxygen that would soon gush into his starved lungs. But CORA, to his surprised relief, had never issued even a preliminary admonition when he visited the summit. The regime that Dr. Sen had prescribed seemed to be working admirably.
Everything had been loaded aboard Spider, which had been jacked up so that the extra battery could be hung beneath it. Mechanics were making hasty last-minute adjustments and disconnecting power leads, since the tangle of cabling under-foot was a mild hazard to a man unused to walking in a spacesuit.