“Look at this!” Abigail laughed. She had wriggled herself up the wall, and pointed down to her feet, which were suspended two inches above the floor.
Ed Spratt edged around the bulky form of Rico to peer inside the opening that now stood in where there had previously been a featureless convex wall. After a moment, he concluded: “It looks like an elevator to me.” He stepped inside.
With varying degrees of reluctance, the other members of the party filed into the small space behind him. Small, that is, compared to the cavernous chamber from which they had come. Lamont estimated that the room was about ten feet square, certainly large enough for the six of them. The walls and floor were made of the same silver-white substance as the landing bay, with a dome-shaped ceiling that rose at least six feet above Lamont’s head. Nested in the dome of the ceiling was what looked like a sphere of exquisitely polished chrome, a perfect mirror in which their inverted reflections could be seen with perfect clarity. The walls were curved, and set along them up to a height of about eight feet were slender strands of copper-colored metal.
They all stood inside the compartment for a few moments. Through the opening, they could see Chief Covington standing in front of the asteroid pod’s ramp, facing in their direction.
“Have you found something?” Arthur asked over the radio, his tone not untouched by sarcasm.
“Perhaps it is a closet,” Rico suggested. He smiled down at Rosemary, to whom he was standing just a little closer than the space necessitated.
“I’ve found something,” Clifford said. Lamon noticed that the spectacled engineer had been experimentally placing the flat of his palm against the inset copper stands on the wall. He now stood with his back straight against the wall, arms at his sides. “Do what I’m doing,” He suggested.
Ed gave Clifford an inscrutable glance before standing up against the side of the wall closest to him. “Hey, now,” He exclaimed, a hint of surprise evident in his monotone.
Curiously, Lamont joined the others in following suit. His heart jumped as he found himself suddenly pressed tight against the wall as if held there by a strong, giant hand. The sensation was not unlike that of being pressed into his seat by acceleration in a rocket or supersonic jet. He experienced a moment of panic—was it a trap? But he found to his relief that he could, with a small effort, pull himself away from the wall. He saw Rico and Abigail do the same, their murmurs of relief audible in his helmet. He held his gloved palm to the wall and felt a slight pull, like that of a magnet, easily resisted.
“The strength of the effect seems proportional to the mass of the object held in proximity,” Clifford noted helpfully.
“Look at this!” Abigail laughed. She had wriggled herself up the wall, and pointed down to her feet, which were suspended two inches above the floor.
A sigh, probably from Ed, came through Lamont’s helmet speaker.
Suddenly, the view of the landing bay and the asteroid pod were gone, replaced by more curved wall and a featureless strip of glossy black that stretched from floor to ceiling.
Been years since I was in a ROTOR ride.
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