And in the center of the chamber, just at eye level, was what Cragin knew must be the "brain" of the entire assembly. A cylinder within a cylinder, its inner workings thoroughly screened by a shifting yet motionless opalescence through which he could not see. What lied in the heart of the thing would be as completely beyond his knowledge as were the visible machines over which it was master.
The girl watched him as his eyes remained fixed on it. "It's the power source, as far as we could determine. For everything."
"For the entire planet."
"For the entire solar system."
"Sure, but not today."
"Not only for today, but for all time. Gravity, warp, everything. If you don't believe me, try explaining the difference between Space as it exists inside and outside the Barrier sometime. Those—" she gestured toward the upper rows of machines, "control the power. When you know how to manipulate them, you can move any body within the system at will—in any direction, at any speed. The sun itself, if you want to."
"All right, I'll admit it's smooth," Cragin said. His hands went to his hips, resting just an inch or so above the butts of his Krells.
"You're a fantastic man, Cragin."
"I—" and he laughed a little. "The trouble is, Miss Griffin, you people just never know when to quit. The average Patrol officer may not have much imagination; police never were supposed to have. It's true if you spin a good enough yarn to begin with, you might get away with it. But if you take it too far—well, it's sort of like overacting a part. The audience just doesn't believe it any more. You might almost have convinced me, I'll admit. But as it is—"
His words were falling uselessly about him. Lin Griffin had begun her work near the largest of the telescreens. In a moment she had made it come alive, and in a moment more Cragin was watching the entire system. She made another adjustment, and he was watching Earth alone. A second later, he was watching Earth, Venus and Mercury in their stolid journeys around the sun.