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A smallish bound volume purported to set out, according to its title, a complete list of the personnel active in the Enterprise as of January 1 of the current year, but this book contained nothing but two or three hundred blank pages. The Investigator perused each of these documents conscientiously, telling himself he might thus come to understand by what logic they had been assembled, but that mystery remained completely opaque.
Nonetheless, he needed half an hour to read all the words and contemplate all the images presented in the collection, and when he was finished, the Guide still had not come back downstairs. The Investigator suddenly clapped his hand to his stomach. A long, gurgling rumble had just shaken his innards.
Some distance away, behind the first curve of the stairway, he saw what looked like a vending machine. He had two coins left. Could he perhaps find something over there to calm his hunger? He stood up and discovered that his muscles were totally cramped because of those blasted chairs. Hobbling, bent in half, his thighs hard and tense, he headed for the vending machine.
Number 7 for the chocolate and Number 32 for the Peasant. The machine spoke to him: It was a synthetic voice, mechanical, vaguely feminine, agreeable to the ear in spite of a strong foreign accent of indefinable origin. The machine made various sounds—of liquid being drawn up, of valves opening and closing, of suction and expulsion—and then, on the right, a little door slid open, revealing the spout of a kind of percolator. The Investigator, however, had no time for either irritation or despair; sandwich Number 32 was on its way.
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We hope you enjoy your meal. The rotating display rack that held the sandwiches went into motion. It pivoted three times in such a way as to place Number 32 in front of a remote-controlled arm, which seized it, removed it from its compartment, and carried it about twelve inches through the air. Then the four pincers at the end of the arm opened and released the Peasant.
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The Investigator struck the glass front of the vending machine a few sharp blows with the flat of his hand, but to no avail; the Peasant would not leave the Oceans. He struck the machine harder and harder, took hold of it with both hands, and shook it in every direction, but the only result he obtained was to make the synthetic voice repeat its message, congratulating him on his choice, reminding him that he was about to savor a meal prepared according to the strictest sanitary and dietary norms and in conformity with international Conventions, and wishing him an enjoyable dining experience.
He threw himself to his knees, thrust his arm into the delivery box, twisted his body, shoved his hardhat, which was hindering his movements, high up on his head, and stretched out his hand and his fingers as far as he could, but alas, despite all his efforts, his impotent middle finger remained a good four inches from the sandwich.
The Guide looked at him and shook his head. The Guide was already walking toward the stairway. The Investigator got to his feet as quickly as he could, pulled his coat straight, repositioned his hardhat, which was on the point of falling, and followed him. The gurgling in his belly was getting louder. The beginning of the climb up the stairs was quite difficult, as his feet kept getting tangled up in his coattails.
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He was forced to grab the bottom of his coat with both hands and raise it about eight inches or so, like a bride lifting the tulle cascades of her long-trained gown. He felt totally ridiculous.
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The Investigator thought the best course would be not to reply. The helicoid formed by the stairway was excessively harmonious. Though probably useless in terms of efficiency, it gave the person mounting the stairs a rare sensation of light, unencumbered ascent into a space where breaks, angles, and whatever might be pointed, aggressive, or wounding were unknown. The higher one climbed, the closer he got to the central axis, because the distance between it and the stairs steadily diminished, so that in the end the Investigator had the impression that he was turning round and round upon himself without rising any higher, which reinforced his vertigo and made him, for a time, forget his hunger.
The two of them were standing in front of a large door made of precious wood.