"Maybe that's it," Compton said. "Maybe it's all a mirage, the woman,
the vase, the man, the house, maybe even the planet itself." His voice
had risen in his excitement.
"Take it easy," Hinckley advised.
"Let's get back to the ship before the whole planet evaporates,"
Compton said.
"Go back if you like," Hinckley said. "I'm going to investigate this.
How about you, Parker?"
"Okay with me. Always wanted to see what makes a mirage tick." He
glanced contemptuously at Compton.
"Okay," Compton said, gripping his rifle, "we'll all make fools of
ourselves."
"C'mon, then."
Hinckley led the way into the house, hesitating only briefly at the
doorway. Inside, a blue light flickered as the man bent over a flaming
trough and poured sand into it from the silver vase. The flames leaped
high, filling the room with a sweet fragrance. The man emptied the
vase, rose and took it to one corner of the room. He sat down on the
couch by the woman. He did not look at the Earthlings.
"He doesn't see us either," Compton said hoarsely. He cried, "Hey, you!
You! Listen! We're Earthmen. Visitors from space."
His voice was explosive in the silence. The man didn't look up. The
Earthmen became aware of music seeping from the walls, music strange
and hauntingly beautiful, played on incredible invisible instruments.
"I don't like this," Compton said. "I don't like it at all. Why are
they ignoring us? Why?"
"Maybe they can't help it," Hinckley suggested. "Perhaps they actually
can't see us or hear us. It's fantastic, but it's possible."
"I wonder," Parker mused. And before anyone could stop him, he struck
the man across the face with a doubled fist.
"Parker!" Hinckley cried. "You fool!"
"That's a matter of opinion," Parker said steadily, rubbing his
knuckles. "I found out what I wanted to."
The man had fallen beneath the blow, but recovered seconds later. There
was a large red welt on his forehead, but neither he nor the woman took
any notice of it.
"It's incredible," Compton said.
"Evidently we can affect them physically, even if not mentally,"
Hinckley said. "You do something like that again, Parker, and I'll
shoot you. I've got the authority to do it, you know, and sometimes the
urge."
"I know," Parker said, "but you haven't got the guts. Besides, I'll
behave myself." He looked intently at the young woman. "I just wanted
to make certain they're real, that's all."
"Let's get out of here," Compton suggested. "There must be some way
we can get a message through to these people. Perhaps someone in the
village--"
Hinckley nodded and motioned them from the house. Compton went eagerly,
but Parker lingered. The air outside seemed cooler now, and its
freshness seemed strange after the pleasant fragrance inside the house.
"Go back to the ship," Hinckley told Parker. "Compton and I'll go into
the village."
"I like it right here," Parker said.
"We might need someone at the ship," Hinckley said. "That's an order."
His hand caressed his rifle, as though daring Parker to refuse.
Parker grinned contemptuously. "Anything you say, _Captain_. If you
need any help, just yell." He turned away and walked toward the rocket.
"Someday I'm going to kill him," Hinckley promised. He turned to
Compton. "C'mon, let's see what the village looks like."
* * * * *
The village was a replica of the first hut, multiplied. Some of the
huts seemed to have specialized purposes as stores or warehouses, but
otherwise it was the same. People sat in the houses, listening to
music or watching moving pictures swarm over their hut walls. Some
occasionally ventured into the street. All of them ignored the Earthmen.
"I don't know what to make of it," Hinckley said finally. "We can touch
them and hear them; they appear normal in all respects, but they seem
to be operating on a different level of existence."
"I don't pretend to understand it," Compton said, "but I have a feeling
I don't like, whenever I think about it. I'd rather meet bug-eyed
monsters than this."
"I know what you mean," Hinckley said. "These people even though
they're humanoid, are out of contact with reality--at least with
reality as we know it. It's like some kind of mass hypnosis, with
everyone in a trance except us."
"Think of how helpless these people would be," Compton said. "When we
turn in our report, those who come out here with unhealthy designs
won't have any opposition."
"We have a prime example of that on board," Hinckley said disgustedly.
"We'd better get back to the ship; I don't like to leave Parker alone;
there's no telling what he'll do."
When they got back Parker wasn't there.
"I was afraid of this," Hinckley said between clenched teeth.
"Maybe they've done something to him," Compton suggested nervously.
"That's too much to hope for. Chances are, it's the other way around.
If I know Parker, there's only one place he'll be. C'mon."
Clutching his rifle, Hinckley ran from the rocket. Compton followed, a
bit more cautiously.
Hinckley reached the lone house and peered into the bluelit gloom. He
entered, gun ready, Compton at his heels.
"He's not here," Hinckley said, surprised.
The man and the young woman sat on the couch and casually watched
pictures move across the far wall. Hinckley, looking at the pictures,
was not at all certain they weren't the reality and the natives of this
place merely ghost images that might fade at any moment.
On the wall an empire was being formed. Tall buildings were raised
by machinery that was unfamiliar to the Earthmen. Aircraft flitted
across the sky like strange black birds. The buildings towered, the
flying machines dove, spitting needles that exploded into blossoms
of fire, and the buildings toppled into dust. People ran, screaming
soundless screams. Columns of smoke rose to replace the buildings. The
scene shifted. Great weapons were assembled and heaped carelessly. To
the heap were added the skycraft and other weapons of war. The pile
exploded, and the people rejoiced, clasping hands, dancing. The walls
darkened.
Actual or symbolic? Hinckley wondered.
"What does it mean?" Compton asked him.
"I think," Hinckley said, "we've just been given a short history of
their race. They built up a great society here, but a warring one.
Finally, they outlawed all weapons in order to save themselves from
total destruction. We could probably take a lesson from that."
"They'll probably be worse off when the Earthmen come here," Compton
said. "Even if they could see and hear us, they wouldn't have any
weapons left to defend themselves. We could loot and rape and--"
"I think we'd better forget this planet exists," Hinckley said slowly.
"If we don't report it, no one'll ever know. It's one planet in a
million planets. If we say it's empty, they'll believe it and never
bother to check."
"But what about Parker?"
"Yes," Hinckley said in a disturbed tone. "Parker. We've got to find
him before he does anything he shouldn't. He must be in one of the
huts. C'mon. You take one side of the village, I'll take the other.
When we find him, we'll blast off."
But they didn't find him. They searched through all the buildings,
peered into all the faces.
"I don't like it," Compton said when they met. "The people may be
helpless, but that doesn't mean everything on the planet is. We've got
to get out of here while we've got the chance."
"Take it easy," Hinckley advised. "We can't leave without Parker. He's
probably hiding someplace."
"Hiding?"
"Hoping we'll take off and leave him alone here. He'd be perfectly
safe. He could take anything he wanted--food, drink, anything--and
these people couldn't raise a finger to stop him; they wouldn't even
know he was here, most likely. If I know Parker that's what he'd want.
He wouldn't care about the people as long as he satisfied himself."
"We'll never find him," Compton said. "There's a forest beyond the
village. If he got into that, we could search for months and not find
him."