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Looking over at her, he switched to Low Thranx. “That's because we remain ignorant of it. But both Bran and I are convinced there must be one.” With his right truhands and foothands he gestured toward the port. “Otherwise, all the intriguing activity that we have been witness to here represents nothing more than a grandiose expenditure of energy in the service of no purpose.”

Flinx had a sudden thought. “The Krang is both a weapon and a musical instrument. Could this be a work of art?”

Tse-Mallory frowned at him. “Why beam intermittent signals all the way from the Horseye system to here just to identify the location of a piece of art? Though I have to admit that I, personally, certainly find it pleasing from an aesthetic as well as an engineering point of view.”

Truzenzuzex was not about to be sidetracked. “We have already had this argument, Bran. It must do something! And furthermore, fss!is!kk, it must do something of significance. It is too big, too impressive, and too joined to the Xunca alarm system to be nothing more than a diversion.”

“That's your opinion.” Tse-Mallory continued to play devil's advocate. “A Xunca might view the arrangement differently.”

“How do we find out?” Flinx looked down at the philosoph.

“Bran and I have been debating that all day.” The subdued light of the control room gleamed mirror-like from the dozens of individual lenses that comprised the venerable thranx's compound eyes. “Your physical and/or mental interaction with the orbiting matter galvanized, provoked, or otherwise set in motion the extraordinary orbital assembly process that has resulted in the new astronomical object we now see before us.” He did not hesitate. “It follows that if anything is likely to stimulate further activity on the part of the object, it will be your presence.”

Flinx swallowed. “You want me to put the suit on again and go out there—into there?” This time it was Clarity who put a protective arm around him.

Tse-Mallory nodded firmly. “Not alone, though. At least, not initially. We'll enter together. Then, if nothing happens and we can't come up with a better idea, that's when we will ask you to continue by yourself.”

Clarity blinked at the old soldier-scientists. “‘Enter’?”

Human and thranx nodded in tandem, though it was Truzenzuzex who spoke. “Bran and I have concluded that we should take the Teacher into the large opening.” He gestured in the direction of the enigmatic alien construct. “There's certainly more than enough room. It may be that an apparatus that encloses such a considerable volume is in fact intended to act upon a single individual—but it seems, even for the Xunca, unnecessarily profligate in terms of expenditure. There is no reason not to take the whole ship inside. Unless”—and he executed a broad gesture of deference in Flinx's direction—“you choose not to. It is, after all, your vessel, and therefore your decision.”

Flinx considered his mentors' words carefully. He hated the thought of risking the Teacher. On the other hand, he told himself, if he chose to enter in a suit, alone, and something untoward happened, of what use would be his wonderful ship? Bran and Tru were watching him closely, Sylzenzuzex was watching her Eighth, and Clarity—Clarity at that particular moment looked as if she would rather be anywhere else in the universe, as long as it was with him. In fact, of all those present, only one had not yet ventured an opinion regarding the philosoph's request.

Twisting his head down and to his right, he murmured, “Well, Pip? What do you think? Do we take a dive into the alien well or do we try something else?”

Raising her gaze, the minidrag looked up at him and blinked. Then she yawned, dropped her head back into her upper coil, and went back to sleep.

“That's what I thought you'd say.” He turned back to the patient Truzenzuzex. “If you and Bran think it's something we should try, then I suppose we ought to go ahead and try it.”

“Sure,” an unhappy Clarity muttered, “just plunge ahead and hang