fat ugly thing."
"Now what has my powerful physique got to do with it?"
"Come on then 'powerful physique', let's see if you can get hold of that trowel or they'll find a way to make you lose weight in jail."
Images of unsavoury and malodorous pimps suddenly appeared before the fat man's eyes. That terrible vision released a strength in him that he no longer thought he had. He arched his back as far as he could. A stab of pain shot straight from his sore shoulder to his brain, but he ignored it. With a decisive lunge, he managed to get his heel behind the trowel and, quickly bending his leg, drew it towards himself.
"Done it" he shouted from behind the gag.
"Will you just shut up, you ugly idiot? What are you screaming for? Do you want those two thugs to come back in and punch us up again?"
"Sorry," the big guy replied softly. "But I did manage to get it."
"See? If you put your mind to it, even you can manage to do something useful. It should be sharp. See if you can cut these damn ropes."
With his good hand, the big guy grabbed the handle of the trowel and began to rub the sharper edge on the ropes behind his back.
"Assuming we can free ourselves," the fat guy murmured "how are we going to get away from here? That site is full of people and it's still daylight. I hope you've got a plan."
"Of course I have! Aren't I the ingenious mind of the two of us?" exclaimed the thin guy proudly. "While you were having your cosy little nap, I analysed the situation and I think I've found a way to beat it."
"I'm all ears," replied the other one continuing to run the trowel up and down.
"That chap standing guard looks in here approximately every ten minutes and this tent is the outer one on the east side of the site."
"So?"
"How on earth did I get you as a partner for this job? You've got the imagination and the intelligence of an amoeba; hoping the amoebae don't take offence at the comparison."
"Actually," retorted the fat guy slightly piqued, "it was me who choose you, since the job was given to me."
"Have you managed to free yourself?" cut short the thin guy; the discussion was taking a turn for the worse and his accomplice was absolutely right.
"Just give me another moment. I think it's about to give."
Sure enough, shortly afterwards, the rope used to tie the pair to the drum broke and the big guy's belly, finally free of its constraints, resumed its normal size.
"There, done it!" exclaimed the fat guy satisfied.
"Great. But now let's keep this up until the guard comes back. We have to make everything look the same as before."
âOkay partner. I'll go back to pretending to be asleep."
The two didn't have long to wait. A few minutes later, the doctor's assistant was back to peep inside the tent. He gave his usual cursory glance around taking in the situation and, not noticing anything strange, closed the zip, then repositioned himself in the shade of the veranda and calmly lit a hand-rolled cigarette.
"Now," said the thin guy. "Let's get moving.
With all their aches and pains, this turned out to be rather more complicated than expected but, after letting out a few dull groans of pain and several curses, they found themselves standing in front of one another.
"Give me the trowel," ordered the thin guy removing his gag. The pains in his right side prevented him from moving very easily but, by laying his open hand on his side, he managed to alleviate some of the pain. He reached the side opposite the entrance to the tent in a couple of steps, knelt and slowly pushed the Marshalltown Trowel into it. The trowel's sharp blade cut through the soft fabric of the east-facing side like butter, creating a small slit of about ten centimetres. The thin man put his right eye close to it and peered through the slit for a few moments. As he had expected there was nobody there. Only the ruins of the ancient city could be seen, about a hundred metres away, where, beforehand, they had hidden the Jeep that was going to be used for their get-away with all the loot.
"All clear," he said, using the blade of the trowel to lengthen the small cut he'd just made down to the floor. "Let's go!" And he crawled through the slit.
"You could have made this hole a little bigger, couldn't you?" muttered the fat man, between one groan and another, while he tried with difficulty to slip outside.
"Come on! We need to get away as quickly as possible."
"Easier said than done. I can hardly walk."
"Give over, hurry up and stop complaining. Remember, if we don't manage to get away, nobody's going to stop us spending a good few years in jail."
The word "jail" always managed to instil extra strength in the fat guy. He didn't say anything else and, suffering in silence, followed his companion who crept stealthily away towards the ruins.
It was the rumble of an engine in the distance that aroused the suspicions of the man on guard. He looked at the now finished cigarette for an instant, then flicked it away with a quick gesture. He slipped inside the tent with decision, but could barely believe his eyes: the two prisoners were gone. The rope lay abandoned untidily next to the drum of fuel, a little farther on there were the two pieces of fabric they had used as gags and on the end wall of the tent a large gash that went right down to the ground.
"Hisham, guys," yelled the man with all the breath he had in his lungs. "The prisoners have escaped!"
Theos spacecraft - The superfluid
The image of the object that Petri had placed in the space between Kodon and earth had left both terrestrials flabbergasted.
"And what's that thing?" asked Elisa curiously, as she went nearer to try and see better.
"We still have not given it an official name." Petri brought the strange object back into the foreground again and watching the doctor, he added "Perhaps you could choose one."
"If you could at least explain what it is, I might perhaps try."
"Our best scientists have been dedicated to this project for some time now." Petri clasped his hands behind his back and began to slowly walk around the room. "This equipment is the result of a series of studies that, partly, go even beyond my scientific skills."
"And I can assure you they're remarkable," Azakis added, giving his friend an affectionate pat on the back.
"In a nutshell, it's a sort of anti-gravity system. It's based on a principle which, as I said, is still being studied but which I can try to summarise in a few simple words."
"I think that would be much better," commented Elisa. "Don't forget we belong to a species which, compared to yours, could easily be defined as underdeveloped."
Petri nodded slightly. Then he approached the three-dimensional representation of the strange object and calmly continued his explanation. "This - what you called a âdoughnutâ earlier - is geometrically defined as a toroid. The tubular ring is hollow, while what we might simply call the âcentral holeâ contains the propulsion and control system."
"Up to here it's all clear," said Elisa, ever more excited.
"Very good. Now let's see the system's principle of operation." Petri spun the image of the toroid around and showed its inner section. "The ring is filled with a gas, usually an isotope of helium which, cooled to a temperature close to absolute zero, changes state and turns into a liquid with very particular characteristics. In practice, its viscosity becomes almost null and it can flow without generating any friction. We call this characteristic 'superfluidity'."
"Now I'm getting a little lost," said Elisa sadly.
"To put it simply, this gas in its liquid state, appropriately stimulated by the ring's structure, will be able to travel inside it,