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【正文】 o the rim, radially. They pass through th frared, which seems to be the best spectrum. Cirocco raised herself on one elbow, careful not to dislodge any of Calvin39。s electrodes. She chewed on the end of the thermometer until he frowned at her. The print showed a fat wagon wheel surrounded by broad based, bright red triangular areas. There were six red areas on the inside of the wheel, but they were smaller, and square. The big triangles on the outside are the hottest parts, Gaby said. I figure they39。re part of the temperature control system. They soak up heat from the sun or bleed off the excess. Houston already decided that, Cirocco pointed out. She glanced at the television camera near the ceiling. Ground control was monitoring them. If they thought of something Cirocco would hear of it in a few hours, asleep or not. The wheel analogy was almost literally true, except for the heating or cooling fins Gaby had indicated. There was a hub in the center, and it had a hole which could have taken an axle if Themis had actually been a wagon wheel. Radiating from the hub were six thick spokes which flared gradually just before joining the outer portion of the wheel. Between each pair of spokes was one of the bright, square areas. This is what39。s new, Gaby said. Those squares are angled. They39。re what 1 originally saw。 the six points of light. They39。re flat, or they39。d scatter a lot more light. As it is they only reflect light to Earth if they39。re at just the right angle, and that39。s rare. 39。What kind of angle? Cirocco lisped. Calvin took the thermometer out of her mouth. Okay. Light es in parallel to the axis, from this angle. She moved an extended finger toward the print. The mirrors are set to deflect the light ninety degrees, into the wheel roof. She touched the paper with her finger, turned the finger, and indicated an area between two spokes. This part of the wheel is hotter than the rest, but not so hot that it could be soaking up all the heat it gets. It39。s not reflecting it or absorbing it, so it39。s transmitting it. It39。s transparent or trans lucent. it lets most of the light go through to whatever39。s underneath. Does that suggest anything to you? Cirocco looked up from her careful examination. What do you mean? Okay. We know the wheel is hollow. Maybe the spokes are, too. Anyway, picture the wheel. It39。s like a car tire, big and fat and flat on the bottom to give more living space. Centrifugal force pushes you away from the hub. I39。ve got all that, Cirocco said, slightly amused. Gaby could he so intense when explaining something. Right. So when you39。re standing on the inside of the wheel, you39。re either under a spoke, or under a reflector, right? Yeah? Oh, yeah. So So it39。s always either daytime or nighttime at any particular spot. The spokes are rigidly attached, the reflectors don39。t move, and neither can the skylights. So it has to be that way. Permanent day or permanent night. Why do you think they39。d build it that way? To answer that, we39。d need to meet them. Their needs must he different from ours. She looked back at the picture. She had to keep reminding herself of the size of the thing. Thirteen hundred meters in diameter, 4000 around the outer rim. The prospect of meeting the beings who built such a thing was worrying her more each day. All right. 1 can wait. Gaby was not that interested in Them is as a spacecraft. To her it was a fascinating problem in observation. en there。 I39。d like to know.I am more like Earth than Earth now is, Nicholas. If you were to take the best of all the best beaches of Earth, and clear them of all the poisons and all the dirt of the last three centuries, you would have me.But this isn39。t Earth?There was no answer. Nicholas walked around the ashes of the fire until he found Ignacio39。s footprints. He was no tracker, but the depressions in the soft beach sand required none。 he followed them, his head swaying from side to side as he walked, like the sensor of a mine detector. For several kilometers Ignacio39。s trail kept to the beach。 then, abruptly, the footprints swerved, wandered among the coconut palms, and at last were lost on the firmer soil inland. Nicholas lifted his head and shouted, Ignacio? Ignacio! After a moment he heard a stick snap, and the sound of someone pushing aside leafy branches. He waited. Mum? A girl was ing toward him, stepping out of the thicker growth of the interior. She was pretty, though too thin, and appeared to be about nineteen。 her hair was blond where it had been most exposed to sunlight, darker elsewhere. You39。ve scratched yourself, Nicholas said. You39。re bleeding. I thought you were my mother, the girl said. She was a head taller than Nicholas. Been fighting, haven39。t you. Have you e to get me? Nicholas had been in similar conversations before and normally would have preferred to ignore the remark, but he was lonely now. He said, Do you want to go home? Well, I think I should, you know. But do you want to? My mum always says if you39。ve got something on the stove you don39。t want to burnshe39。s quite a good cook. She really is. Do you like cabbage with bacon? Have you got anything to eat? Not now. I had a thing a while ago What kind of thing? A bird. The girl made a vague little gesture, not looking at Nicholas. I39。m a memory that has swallowed a bird. Do you want to walk down by the water? They were moving in the direction of the beach already. I was just going to get a drink. You39。re a nice tot. Nicholas did not like being called a tot. He said, I set fire to places. You won39。t set fire to this place。 it39。s been nice the last couple of days, but when everyone is sad, it rains. Nicholas was silent for a time. When they reached the sea, the girl dropped to her knees and bent forward to drink, her long hair falling over her face until the ends trailed in the water, her nipples, then half of each breast, in the water. Not there, Nicholas said. It39。s sandy, because it washes the