lls behind. Delay of a critical item of equipment can necessitate an
unbelievably vast reassignment of personnel and supply patterns. A small
cause reverberates throughout the whole fabric of the space technology."

"General Shorter, I think perhaps you're being carried away a little.
I'm sure we have adequate procedures to accommodate minor variations in
equipment delivery dates. If we don't, the Lord help us: we'd have been
dead long ago."

The general was in the process of forming an immediate reply, but he
reconsidered. When he reached for the coffee, which by now was cool and
bitter, his hand was trembling.

The general licked his lips. "More coffee? No? Well, I didn't intend to
get off on this. I really wanted to ask if you'd like to inspect our
operations." He glanced at his time piece. "I could show you the present
shift operation in Dome Nine."

Mr. Flison rose. "No, General, I don't want to be of any bother. I
wouldn't want to interfere with your--work."

III

"City" is not necessarily descriptive: perhaps less so than the
application of Euclidean axioms to advanced geometry. Physically, it was
this:

1. Three dozen stone arches whose keystones were inverted bowls.

2. A smooth-walled recess in the sheer face of a cliff.

3. A level lip of rock, as precisely flat as though honed, from which
the arches seemed to grow.

"Is this all?" Mr. Tucker asked.

"Yes, sir," Captain Meford said.

Mr. Ryan came to the viewing section. "It looks," he said, "as though
the cliff were split down to here and then hewn away to leave the
structures there and the apron."

"We found no tools, sir. There were no tools here, nor with them."

"Nothing else at all?"

"They left behind some four hundred chips of stone, apparently numbered.
We have them in the dome. And there's a two-line inscription on one of
the arches. There's nothing else."

High above the men and the ship, the new wind sang in one of the
inverted bowls and fluttered lightly over the inscription. It, like the
face of the cliff, was oxidizing. Dust filtered down before the recess,
alien symbols falling. Life is the recording angel of time. Without
life, all ceases.

"Dust," Mr. Tucker said. "Dust ... dust ... more dust. Soon the dust
will be over everything. When the wind is gone, it will be there to hold
our footprints."

Inside the air-conditioned scout, the men shivered.

"How did you come to find them?" Mr. Ryan asked.

"I saw th