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the Earth’s cross-section receives about sixty billion neutrinos each second.’ He smiled briefly. ‘It’s quite interesting to note that every second of the day and night we are being bombarded by several billion neutrinos which pass clean through us as if we didn’t exist.’
    â€˜Perhaps just as well,’ Frank said. ‘I’d hate to think of what might happen if they decided to interact with some of my atoms.’
    â€˜Not possible,’ Professor Friedmann said shortly, as if taking Frank’s comment seriously. ‘There’s no evidence at all to suggest that neutrinos in any way affect human beings.’
    He went on to talk about the processing of data, whichFrank was surprised to learn was carried out by the computer facility at NORAD, the North American Air Defense Command which was situated inside Cheyenne Mountain, about sixty miles away, south of Colorado Springs. The NORAD Combat Operations Center was built inside the mountain itself, under a granite roof a quarter-mile thick and behind 30-ton blastproof doors.
    â€˜I assumed their computer time would be fully taken up with their own data processing requirements,’ Frank said.
    â€˜They have three systems, two of which are on-line at any one moment, so they have spare capacity available which we’re free to use.’
    â€˜And these are the data you’ve just received,’ Frank said, reaching for the printout.
    Professor Friedmann laid his hand on the pile. ‘Yet to be checked and verified,’ he said. ‘But you can take my word that there’s nothing out of the ordinary here. Our present detection rate is one neutrino a month, which is consistent with other findings to date.’
    â€˜One neutrino out of 60 billion per square centimetre – wouldn’t you expect more?’
    â€˜Well, yes, we would,’ Professor Friedmann admitted. He stood up, seeming rather agitated. ‘We can only assume that our methods are nowhere near as efficient as they ought to be. I take it you’d like to see the installation for yourself, Mr Kersh. You’ll excuse me if I don’t accompany you, but my assistant, Dr Leach, is already below ground and he’ll be happy to answer any questions you might have.’
    Frank took this to be a polite way of terminating the interview. It seemed that while Friedmann was quite willing to discuss the theoretical background to solar neutrino detection he was reluctant to go into specific details concerning the Project’s research programme and its record of success – or lack of it. Perhaps he was afraid that the US Institute of Astrophysics would reduce the budget or cancel it altogether if word got around that the detection rate was a single paltry neutrino every thirty days.
    The cage was a solid aluminium box without windows,large enough to accommodate a dozen people, and dropping down a mile-deep shaft at twenty-two feet per second gave Frank the unnerving feeling of being in free fall. When they reached the bottom it took him several moments to regain his composure and recover his stomach, which had followed at a more sedate pace. The young technical assistant who accompanied him ducked his head aside and grinned, enjoying the expression on Frank’s face; Frank debated with himself whether he should throw up as well, just to make the young man’s day.
    As he stepped out his breath was literally taken away. There was a steady warm breeze blowing in his face which was tainted with the smell of diesel oil and something more pungent that he couldn’t identify. Except for the powerful odour it might have been a warm summer wind blowing along the main tunnel. He said:
    â€˜Air conditioning?’ and the technical assistant nodded, sliding the aluminium door shut behind him.
    â€˜The air’s so sluggish down here we’ve got to keep a fresh supply coming in and constantly on the move. And it helps to clear the