Then they gathered in a vaulted room, one of which opened a complete
circle of closed doors.
There was some argument among the aliens, a dispute of sorts over
which of those doors was to be opened first, and the Terrans drew a
little apart, unable to follow the twittering words and
lightning-swift gestures.
Raf tried to work out the patterns of color which swirled and looped
over each door and around the walls, only to discover that too long an
examination of any one band, or an attempt to trace its beginning or
end, awoke a sick sensation which approached inner turmoil the longer
he looked. At last he had to rest his eyes by studying the gray
flooring under his boots.
The aliens finally made up their minds, or else one group was able to
outargue the other, for they converged upon a door directly opposite
the ramp. Once more they went through the process of unsealing the
panels, while the Terrans, drawn by curiosity, were close behind them
as they entered the long room beyond. Here were shelves in solid tiers
along the walls, crowded with such an array of strange objects that
Raf, after one mystified look, thought that it might well take months
to sort them all out.
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