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Adikor. “It’s the base that holds it to the floor. But it’ll take tendays to get a new one made.”
    “So we can’t do anything before the Gray Council?” asked Ponter. He didn’t look forward to facing the elder citizens and saying that nothing had been added to our knowledge since the last Council session.
    “Not unless …” Adikor trailed off.
    “What?”
    “Well, the problem with 69 is that it tends to vibrate on its base; the attachment clamps weren’t machined quite right. If we could find something to anchor it with …”
    Ponter scanned the room. There was nothing that looked suitable. “How about if I just go out on the computing floor and lean on it? You know, press down with all my weight. Wouldn’t that keep it from vibrating?”
    Adikor frowned. “You’d have to hold it very steady. The equipment can tolerate some movement, of course, but …”
    “I can do it,” said Ponter. “But—but will my presence on the computing floor promote decoherence?”
    Adikor shook his head. “No. The register columns are heavily shielded; it would take something a lot more radioactive or electrically noisy than a human body to upset the contents.”
    “Well, then?”
    Adikor frowned again. “It’s hardly an elegant solution to the problem.”
    “But it might work.”
    Adikor nodded. “I suppose it’s worth a try. Better than going to Council empty-handed.”
    “All right!” said Ponter, decisively. “Let’s do it.” Adikor nodded, and Ponter opened the door that separated the other three rooms from the large chamber containing the register tanks. He then walked down the steps to the room’s polished granite floor, which had been leveled with laser beams. Ponter moved carefully along it; he’d slipped once before while crossing. When he got to cylinder 69, he placed one hand on its curved top, covered that with his other hand, and then pressed down with all his strength. “Any time you’re ready,” Ponter shouted.
    “Ten,” Adikor shouted back. “Nine. Eight. Seven.”
    Ponter fought to keep his hands steady. As far as he could tell, the cylinder wasn’t vibrating at all.
    “Six. Five. Four.”
    Ponter took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He held it in.
    “Three. Two. One.”
    Here we go , thought Ponter.
    “Zero!”
     
    * * *
     
    Adikor heard the glass rattle fiercely in the window looking over the computing floor. “Ponter!” he shouted. Adikor hurried to the window. “P-Ponter?”
    But there was no sign of him.
    Adikor pulled the grip that unlatched the door, and—
    Whoosh!
    The door swung forward, flying open, the grip wrenched from Adikor’s hand as a great rush of air from the control room flew past him out into the computing chamber; it was almost enough to tumble Adikor face first down the small staircase. Air was rushing into the computing chamber from the control room and the mine beyond as if—as if somehow the air that had been in there earlier had all been sucked away. Adikor’s ears popped repeatedly.
    “Ponter!” he called again once the wind had died down, but although the room was large, the register tanks, arrayed in a vast grid, were all narrow columns; there was no way Ponter could be concealed behind one of them.
    What could have happened? If a rock wall elsewhere in the mine had collapsed, and behind it had been an area of low pressure, maybe …
    But there were seismic sensors throughout the mining complex, and they’d have triggered the release of warning smells here in the computing lab if there had been any such disturbance.
    Adikor hurried across the granite floor. “Ponter!” he called again. “Ponter?”
    There was no fissure in the flooring; he couldn’t have been swallowed up by the ground. Adikor could see register tank 69, the one Ponter had been working on, at the far end of the room. Ponter obviously wasn’t there, but Adikor ran over to the register, anyway, looking for any clue, and—
    Gristle!
    Adikor found his feet going