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Fantastic enough was this reality globe and pyramid and cube of the Metal People opening wide, bathing in, drinking from the radiant maelstrom that faster and ever faster swirled about them. "Feeding!" It was Drake's awed voice. "Feeding on the sun!" The circling shields were raising themselves, lifting themselves higher above the crater-lip.
All about the crater-lip the ringed shields tilted; thrust themselves on high, as though behind each was an eager lifting arm. Below them the hived clusters of disks changed from globules into wide coronets. Seventeen minutes. I dropped my wrist; seized the glasses from Drake; raised them to the sun.
Stangrave has walked upon those hills, and stood upon the crater-lip of the great Moselkopf, and dreamed beside the Laacher See, beneath the ancient abbey walls; and his thoughts flit across the Moselle flats towards his ancient haunts, as he asks himself How long has that old Eifel lain in such soft sleep? How long ere it awake again?
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