It made a flowing, over-and-over turn. Then the presentation spun around some one of its personal axes of no particular coordinate, like a planetarium being operated by a putterer who wants to see what happens when he pushes any button at random.
It settled down.
Jones and Halligan set up their sighting devices in the center of the big floor and began to project their line across the dome.
One of the techs came running up to Allison. "If we change the driver response threshold by seven ultrachronic levels—"
"Go away, Magill. Maybe tomorrow."
"But look—"
"You look. I said—"
A white-yellow circle appeared on the dome with a red line cross on it like a telescope reticule. Halligan was aiming a flashlight pointer at the dome and talking into the floor mike at the same time.
"Hey, Allison! Maybe that's it?"