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Hoddan was relieved. There did seem a slightly strange limitation to the happiness of the emigrants. They were passionately rejoiceful over the agricultural machinery. But they seemed rather dutifully than truly happy over the microfilm library. The vision-tape instructors were the objects of polite comment only. Hoddan felt a vague discomfort.
"I also wish to buy," said Hoddan, "a complete shipload of agricultural machinery, a microfilm technical library, machine tools, vision-tape technical instructors and libraries of tape for them, generators, and such things." "Hm-m-m," said the lawyer. "I will send one of our clerks to examine your cargo so he can deal properly with the brokers. You will tell him in detail what you wish to buy."
Seventeen? He ended up taking her at her word. He described Pallastown rather heavy-handedly, and bought some microfilm postcards to go along with his missive, as soon as he went out to mail it.
He had no time to wonder at the interchange of glances around the table before the Toon Leader said, "And that is ?" "In Pittsburgh, somewhere, there is an underground crypt, full of books. Not printed and bound books, but spools of microfilm. Do you know what that is?" The men of the Toon shook their heads.
"The only thing I can think," he commented, "was that he was after something that he believed to be more important than his life or his family." My next step was to try to find out what Mantell's wing men had seen or thought but this was a blind alley. All of this evidence was in the ruined portion of the microfilm, even their names were missing.
"Barida, I'll have all my data available for you before noon tomorrow: you can make up copies for all Team members." "Make mine on microfilm, for projection," von Heldenfeld said. "Mine, too," Sir Neville Lawton added. "Better make microfilm copies for everybody," Heym ben-Hillel suggested. "They're handier than type-script."
He was watching Lowiewski's face keenly. "No," he continued. "It was probably the mathematics chair of the Soviet Academy of Sciences." "But who was this person who could smuggle microfilm out of the reservation?" Suzanne Maillard wanted to know. "Somebody has invented teleportation, then?" MacLeod shook his head. "It was General Nayland's chauffeur. It had to be.
He dumped out the contents of the pack: sixteen cigarettes, four cigarette tip-ends, four bits snapped from the other ends and a small aluminum microfilm capsule. Lowiewski's face twitched. For an instant, he tried vainly to break loose from the men who held him. Then he slumped into a chair. Heym ben-Hillel gasped in shocked surprise. Suzanne Maillard gave a short, felinelike cry.
He got the Technical Reference Room at the Public Library and asked for the detailed plans of the big electronic National Vote Tabulating machine in Washington. At the other end a microfilm reel clicked into place, ready to obey his finger-tip control. For two hours he read and read, making notes and studying the circuits of the complicated machine.
"Lieutenant Carmath, I am morally certain I heard you correctly, but let's just check. You said...." He repeated the lieutenant back, almost word for word. Carmath nodded. "That was it, sir. The missile-crypts are stacked full of old photoprints and recording and microfilm spools. The sighting-and-guidance systems for all the launchers are completely missing.
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