We were silent for a moment. Then Gonzales said, "Of course!"
And Burton said, "The holes!"
"Exactly," said Allenby. "Maybe whatever made—or makes—the holes comes right down the center of the street here. Maybe that's why they built the village this way—to make room for—"
"For what?" Randolph asked unhappily, shifting his feet.
"I don't know," Allenby said. He looked thoughtfully at the chief. "That circular motion he made—could he have been describing something that went around and around the planet? Something like—oh, no!" Allenby's eyes glazed. "I wouldn't believe it in a million years."
His gaze went to the far end of the street, to the high sand dune that rose there. The chief seemed to be waiting for something to happen.
"I'm going to crawl," Randolph stated. He got to his hands and knees and began to creep across the center of the avenue.
The chief let him go.
The sand dune at the end of the street suddenly erupted. A forty-foot spout of dust shot straight out from the sloping side, as if a bullet had emerged. Powdered sand hazed the air, yellowed it almost the full length of the avenue. Grains of sand stung the skin and rattled minutely on the houses.
WhoooSSSHHHHH!