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"
What
is
it
?
"
"
What
can
it
be
?
"
"
Count
,
"
was
Cavor
's
belated
suggestion
,
and
at
that
word
the
striking
ceased
.
The
silence
,
the
rhythmic
disappointment
of
the
silence
,
came
as
a
fresh
shock
.
For
a
moment
one
could
doubt
whether
one
had
ever
heard
a
sound
.
Or
whether
it
might
not
still
be
going
on
.
Had
I
indeed
heard
a
sound
?
I
felt
the
pressure
of
Cavor
's
hand
upon
my
arm
.
He
spoke
in
an
undertone
,
as
though
he
feared
to
wake
some
sleeping
thing
.
"
Let
us
keep
together
,
"
he
whispered
,
"
and
look
for
the
sphere
.
We
must
get
back
to
the
sphere
.
This
is
beyond
our
understanding
.
"
"
Which
way
shall
we
go
?
"
He
hesitated
.
An
intense
persuasion
of
presences
,
of
unseen
things
about
us
and
near
us
,
dominated
our
minds
.
What
could
they
be
?
Where
could
they
be
?
Was
this
arid
desolation
,
alternately
frozen
and
scorched
,
only
the
outer
rind
and
mask
of
some
subterranean
world
?
And
if
so
,
what
sort
of
world
?
What
sort
of
inhabitants
might
it
not
presently
disgorge
upon
us
?
And
then
,
stabbing
the
aching
stillness
as
vivid
and
sudden
as
an
unexpected
thunderclap
,
came
a
clang
and
rattle
as
though
great
gates
of
metal
had
suddenly
been
flung
apart
.
It
arrested
our
steps
.
We
stood
gaping
helplessly
.
Then
Cavor
stole
towards
me
.
