“One!”

Still, with all the potential problems, with all the potential negatives, there was one very positive aspect about returning to the Gliksin world…

“Zero!”

Ponter and Adikor simultaneously pulled buds on their control panels.

Suddenly, a great roar came from the computing chamber, which was visible through a window in the control room. Ponter knew what was happening, although he’d never been a spectator to it before. Everything that wasn’t bolted down in the computing chamber was being shunted to the other universe. The glass-and-steel register cylinders—even the wonky one, number 69—stayed put, but all the air in the chamber was being swapped for a comparable mass in the other universe. When Ponter had been accidentally transferred over, the corresponding space on the other side had contained a giant acrylic sphere full of heavy water—the heart of a Gliksin neutrino detector.

But this time, no heavy water came gushing through. The chamber had been drained before Ponter had returned, so that the damage his arrival had done to the acrylic sphere could be repaired.

Right on cue, the gaudy probe—cylindrical, about an armspan long—tumbled through the blue fire that marked the portal, the light hugging the probe’s contours in profile as it did so. All that was visible now were the anchoring and telecommunications cables attached to the probe, pulled taut, disappearing into midair at about waist height. Ponter swung his attention to the large, wall-mounted monitor that had been added to the control room to display what the probe was seeing.

And what it was seeing was—

“Gliksins!” exclaimed Ambassador Prat.

“I’d only half believed it,” said Councilor Bedros.

Adikor turned to look at Ponter, grinning. “Anyone you know?”

Ponter squinted at the scene. As before, the portal had appeared several body-heights above ground; the quantum-computing facility seemed to be slightly higher up and slightly to the north of the center of the neutrino-detector chamber. A dozen or more Gliksins were working inside the still-dry chamber. They were all clad in coveralls, and they all had those yellow plastic turtle shells on their heads. Most of the Gliksins had the same pale skin that Ponter’s people had, but two had dark brown skin. Ponter got the impression that almost all the workers were males, but it was so hard to tell with Gliksins. Of course, the one face he’d hoped to see was female, but there was no reason she should be doing repair work down at the bottom of a mineshaft.

All the faces were looking directly at the probe, and several of the individuals were pointing with their scrawny arms.

“No,” said Ponter. “Nobody I know.”

The probe’s microphones were picking up sounds, all echoing weirdly in the cavernous chamber. Ponter couldn’t understand much of what was being said, but he did pick out his own name at one point. “Hak,” said Ponter, speaking to his Companion, “what are they saying?”

Hak had a new voice now; while getting upgrade work done on his Companion, Ponter had had Kobast Gant program in a pleasant male voice that wasn’t based on anyone Ponter knew.

Hak spoke through his external speaker, so that the entire assembled group could hear. “The male at the right side of the screen just invoked that thing they call God—apparently in this context, it’s an exclamation of surprise. The male next to him referred to the putative son of the God thing. And the woman next to him said, ‘Wholly feces.’”

“Very strange,” said Tukana.

“The male at the right,” continued Hak, “has now yelled for somebody out of our view to get Doctor Mah on the telecommunications link.”

As Hak spoke, several of the humans came close to the probe. Ponter enjoyed hearing the gasps from the three High Gray Council members and Ambassador Prat as they got their first close-up views of the strange, pinched Gliksin faces, with their preposterously small noses.

“Well,” said Dern, the roboticist, “it looks like we’ve reestablished contact, and it seems conditions on the other side are suitable.”

The three High Gray Council members conferred for a few beats, then Bedros nodded. “Let’s do it,” he said.

Ponter and Dern each took an end of the unexpanded Derkers tube. Adikor opened the door leading out to the computing floor. There was no equalizing hiss, no popping of ears; although the air in the computing chamber now presumably was mostly from the Gliksin world, comparable volumes had been exchanged. The Gliksins carefully filtered the air in the neutrino-detector facility, and the air Ponter was breathing now had no smell at all.

The point of entry to the other universe was clearly marked by the two cables disappearing into a blue-limned hole in space. Dern, who had been on hand when Ponter was recovered the first time, maneuvered the tip of the collapsed Derkers tube so that it was in contact with the probe’s anchor cable. Ponter swung the length of the tube—a good eight armspans—and lined it up parallel to the anchor cable.

“Ready?” asked Dern, looking over his shoulder at Ponter.

Ponter nodded. “Ready.”

“All right,” said Dern. “Gently now.”

Dern began feeding the collapsed tube through the portal, which widened just enough to accommodate its narrow diameter. Ponter pushed gently from the rear. Adikor had brought a portable monitor with him, which was repeating the view from the probe. He angled the device so that Dern and Ponter could see what was happening on the other side. Although the probe had been lowered to the bottom of the neutrino detector chamber, so that the two cables attached to it took a downward turn as soon as they went through the portal, the Derkers tube was protruding parallel to the floor far below. The Gliksins couldn’t reach it; it was too far above their heads. But they were pointing at it, and shouting among themselves.

“That’s far enough,” said Dern, noting that the tube was halfway through—he’d put a little reference mark at the appropriate spot along the tube’s length. Ponter stopped feeding more through. Dern came down to the tube’s end to help Ponter pull it open.

At first, Ponter and Dern could each barely fit a hand into the narrow mouth of the tube. But the tube yielded as they pulled in opposite directions, expanding its diameter more and more, its ratcheting mechanisms making loud clickings as it did so.

Ponter got his other hand into the widened mouth, and Dern got his left hand in, too, and they continued to pull the mouth open. Soon, the tube was a good armspan in diameter—but that was only a third of its maximum extent, and they went on opening it wider and wider.

Ambassador Prat and the three High Gray Councilors had come out onto the computing floor now. One of the Exhibitionists was with them; the other was standing at the topmost step leading up to the control room—he clearly wanted to be able to get away if something went wrong.

Old Bedros looked like he wished to lend a hand—history was being made here, after all. Ponter nodded for him to go ahead. Soon, six hands were pulling at the tube’s widening mouth. On the portable monitor, Ponter could see the Gliksin’s strange pointed jaws dropping in astonishment.

Finally, it was done: the tube had reached its maximum diameter, and its bottom was resting on the granite floor of the computing chamber. Ponter looked at Tukana, and gestured for her to go ahead. “You’re the ambassador,” he said.

The gray-haired woman shook her head. “But they know you—a recognizable, friendly face.”

Ponter nodded. “As you wish.” Adikor gave Ponter a great hug. Then Ponter moved back to the mouth of the tube, took a deep breath—despite what he’d seen through the probe’s eyes, he couldn’t help remembering what had happened to him the last time he’d gone through to the Gliksin world. He began to walk down the tube’s length. From the interior, the only sign of the portal was a faint blue ring of light visible through the translucent membrane spread between the crisscrossing metal components of the tube—it seemed that by forcing the portal wide open like this, they wouldn’t have to bear the disquieting sight of seeing cross sections of themselves as they passed through it.