THE CATERPILLARS QUESTION

That had certainly been exaggerated-somewhat-since the impact did not flatten the plane out. It kept going, though it had shuddered and the altitude indicator showed an alarming loss of height. Rain and darkness enclosed the craft. But, almost immediately, the rain on the windshield evaporated. Yet the downpour was still almost solid 'a few inches from the shield.

This machine had no visible windshield wipers. Something was keeping the rain from hitting the windshield.

The headlights of the craft were on, but he could not see more than a few feet beyond its nose.

He was still squeezing hard on the wheel and had it pulled far back. Though he was not losing any more altitude, he had not regained that lost when entering the storm.

The mountain peaks! How far below the plane were they?

Lightning exploded nearby. Thunder boomed. Tappy reached over and felt his neck, then lowered her hand to grab his shoulder.

"We'll be fine!" he shouted.

It was within the realm of possibility. But she needed strong encouragement.

So did he, Soon, embarrassment and discomfort would be added to the danger. He was going to wet his pants.

Maybe there was something to help him in the storage space behind the seats. Like a bottle. Anything. He did not dare to lessen the pressure on the wheel rim. Tappy would have to grope around in there for him.

He told her what he wanted her to do and why. She twisted around in the tight restraint of the belts and felt as far as she could reach. She smiled and then worked away at something. He twisted his neck far enough to see that she was unfastening a belt around a box. The belt came loose when she clicked something on the buckle. Then she managed to bring out with one hand a plastic cotaer.

It was heavy and fell out of her hand before she could grip it with both hands. But it was on the space between them. After feeling it, she found and pressed a button on the box. The I'd came open. Inside were stacks of small plastic square containers.

And plastic bottles.

The bottle she brought out held a transparent liquid. Water, he hoped. And it was. She unscrewed the cap and tasted it, smiled, then held it out to him. At that instant, the orange liquid inside the altitude indicator shot up. He was pressed against the seat.

An updraft was hurtling the airplane toward the top of the sto

He released his right hand from the wheel and took the bottle. It had slopped some water out of it, but there was more than enough for him despite his intense thirst.

. When he handed the half-empty bottle to her, he said, "Drink it all up' I'll use the bottle then"'

she hefted it to her lips and did not put it down until all the water was gone. She must have been as thirsty as he.

However, using the bottle for its second purpose was not easy.

The plane was still bouncing around while going up. There seemed to be up- and downdrafts within the big updraft. Desperate, he managed to relieve himself completely. Never m'nd what missed the bottle.

Meanwhile, Tappy had been holding down the box, which tended to rise during a vigorous downdraft. She screwed the cap back onto the bottle and placed it in the box. After relocking the box, she struggled to get it back into its place in the storage area.

Finally, she did it.

He had no time to thank her. Now a fierce downdraft plunged Machine toward ... what" He squeezed the wheel rim with all the muscle he could muster. And he pulled the wheel far back, though he wondered if pointing the nose of the craft too high would cause a stall. He hoped not. It seemed to him, however, that the propulsive-levitational power might, pun intended, forestall stalls.

At least, he felt better now. Otherwise, he would not be making a pun, especially such a lousy one.

He had no reason to be freed of some of his fear. At any moment, a downdraft could smash the plane into a peak or the plane might fly head-on into a very high mountain.

A minute later, he was again thoroughly scared. The dazzling white lightning bolts and their ear-ramming explosions increased.

They seemed to be in a nest of electrical entities hatching right and left. Tappy squeezed his thigh while the ravening energy transformed the black world into a white one.

Her fingers dug into his flesh when a gigantic round ball, its brightness brain-piercing, appeared in front of them. She could not see it, he supposed, but it must be making some impression on her nervous system.

As they hurtled through it, their flesh seemed to become as clear as spring water. Their bones were dark. Tappy was a moving skeleton beside him, and his hands and arms were Death's own body.

Then the ball was gone. They were again flesheo. But their hairs were standing on end. Her long tresses stood out like straight needles. She looked like the Bride of Frankenstein.

Somewhere behind them, the ball exploded, and the airplane shook. Their hair crackled and then fell back, free of the static electricity.

A moment later, Tappy shook his shoulder. He looked at her pale face. She was obviously distressed about something. He did not think that it had been caused by the ball.

"What is it?"

She was shaking her head and pointing at her forehead. Then she pointed straight ahead, held up her hands, and rotated them.

After which she made a circular motion close to her head with her right hand. She looked very puzzled.

"I don't get it," he said.

She reached out and ran her finger along the instrument panel until she located the compass. Holding the tip of her finger on it, she turned her head toward him. with the other hand, she made the circular movement.

He said, "Oh! You mean ... you don't know now where that place ... your goal ... destination is? Where we've been headed since we got here?"

She nodded vigorously and sat back. Now she looked distressed.

"I'm sorry," he said.

That did not help her. Or him. And it was a wi

"It must've been that white-hot ball, that St. Elmo's fire," he said. "That last explosion. It was a huge sphere of electricity discharging. Somehow, it glitched that homing sense, whatever it is that was leading you straight to your destination. I thought that was some sort of psychic power. But it could be electricalsemi-electrical, anyway."

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

"We still have the panel compass," he said. "And maybe your, uh, power, homing sense, will come back soon."

No use telling her that the compass was probably messed up, too. He intended to go by it until he knew that it was malfunctioning.

A half hour later, they shot out of the storm. The late afternoon sun shone unimpeded by clouds and revealed that they were only about two thousand feet above the ground. The mountains were behind them. Ahead was a plain that ran over the horizon. Isolated trees and groves of trees were scattered over it. A river made S-turns across the terrain. The vegetation was much thicker along its banks.

Many animals were heading toward or away from the water. The land reminded him of an African veldt except that the grass was a bright green and many of the beasts did not look like Earth fauna.

Not like present-day animals, anyway. Some of them looked like mammals that had roamed Earth many millions of years ago.

For instance, an elephantine creature with a long proboscis and four tusks, two turned upward and two downward. Its ears were rather small, though. That must mean that this area did not have a hot African-like climate.

Heading north by the panel compass, Jack flew for another thirty minutes. Meanwhile, he worried about Tappy. She was still weeping. And then there was the fuel supply. Which of the indicators showed how much was left? To take her mind off her loss-if it could be done-he asked her to locate the fuel indicator. She touched an instrument much like the altitude indicator except that the liquid in the tube was a bright green and the symbols alongside it were different.