All Judgment Fled by James White

psychological

type -- the type who drowned or crashed or fell off mountains trying to

climb higher or fly faster or dive deeper than their fellows.
     
     
For some reason McCullough felt sure that the aliens had gone to the

stars, had come to this star, simply because it was there . . .
     
     
"When they were giving us all those lectures, Doctor," said Walters,

displaying his genius for converting the sublime into the ridiculous,

"they forgot Burglary. How does one pick an airlock?"
     
     
     
     
chapter seven
     
     
There are only so many ways for a door to open," Walters said, very

seriously for him, "and I'd like you to check me on them. It can be

hinged to open inward or out. It can slide open by moving up, down or

to either side. It can be mounted on a central pivot, like a butterfly

valve, or it can unscrew. Have I left anything out?"
     
     
"I don't think so," said McCullough. "But if these people were advanced

enough to have molecular engineering, the entrances might iris open and

shut . . ."
     
     
"Unlikely," said Walters. "The door and surround are ordinary metal,

very roughly finished and showing deep scratches and dents. If they

were capable of controlling the molecular binding forces of metal to the

extent of being able to dilate an opening in an area of solid plating --

of making the metal flow like a viscous liquid -- they would not have

scratches showing on it. These markings could have been made by heavy

tools or equipment being moved into the lock chamber. They vary in depth

and are of uniform brightness.
     
     
"If the Ship was assembled in space, the markings could have been made at

any time during its construction and still appear fresh and bright. There

are an awful lot of them, all over the place . . ."
     
     
"We would like a more detailed description of mechanisms in the area,

if you can see any. I can't see very much with this telescope . . ."
     
     
The voice coming from P-One sounded strained, with the subtle difference

in tone which labeled it for public rather than private consumption. On

Earth everyone who could get within earshot of a radio or a simulated

mockup on TV, would be hanging on every word -- a world record for any

single program. Morrison could not help being conscious of those billions

of ears. Even Walters seemed to be more frightened by them than what

lay inside the Ship.
     
     
The pilot took a deep and audible breath, then continued, "Six inches

from the rim of the personnel lock, on the side facing aft, there is a

lever about two feet long. It is set flush with the skin except at one

end where a hemispherical dimple about three inches deep gives access

to the handle . . ."
     
     
He was using the term loosely, McCullough thought as he photographed it,

because the handle was not meant for hands. It terminated in a small

knob containing two small, conical depressions on opposite sides, and

it was the perfect shape for a finger and thumb, or pincers . . .
     
     
"I'm pulling it from the recess now," Walters said quickly, giving the

colonel no time to have second thoughts. "I am doing it very slowly.

There was resistance at first, suggesting spring loading, but now it is

moving easily. This must mean a powered actuator rather than a direct

linkage to the door itself. So far nothing has happened. The lever is

now approximately thirty degrees along its angle of travel, approaching

forty-five . . . Oops!"
     
     
A brief, silent hurricane rushed out of the suddenly open airlock,

and they were in the center of a globe of fog which dispersed almost as

soon as it had formed. McCullough reached forward, gripped the lever and

returned it to its recess. Obediently the lock swung closed. He waited

a few seconds, then opened and closed it again several times.
     
     
"What is happening out there, dammit?" said the colonel furiously,

momentarily forgetting the networks and their views on the sort of language

suitable for family