"I don't care," she said. "Take me there." Her order had reached the
others' ears, and they slowed their pace.
"Lady--believe me--it's impossible. There's nothing but matted jungle
in that direction--we'd have to hack our way as we go along. And who
knows how far away that light is? Besides, you're on your way to be
married."
"Take me to that light!" she persisted.
They set the litter down. "We can't do that," one man said to another.
Koroby stepped out to the path, straightened up, her eyes on the glow.
"You'd better," she said ominously. "Otherwise, I'll make a complaint
to Yasak--"
The men eyed each other, mentally shrugging. "Well--" one yielded.
The girl whirled impatiently on the others. "Hurry!" she cried. "If you
won't take me, I'll go by myself. I must get to that fire, whatever it
is!" She put a hand to her heart. "I must! I must!" Then she faced the
green glare again, smiling to herself.
"You can't do that!" a carrier cried.
"Well, then, you take me," she said over her shoulder.
Grumbling, they bent to the conveyance's poles, and Koroby lithely
slipped to the cushions. They turned off the path, plodded through the
deep grass toward the light. The litter lurched violently as their
feet caught in the tangled grass, and clouds of fine dust arose from
the disturbed blades.
* * * * *
By the time they reached the source of the light, they were quite
demoralized. The musicians had not accompanied them, preferring to
carry the message to Yasak in the Stone City that his prospective
bride had gone off on a mad journey. The bearers were powdered grey
with dust, striped with blood where the dry grass-stems had cut them.
They were exhausted and panting. Koroby was walking beside them, for
they had abandoned the litter finally. Her blue drapery was ripped and
rumpled; her carefully-arranged braids had fallen loose; dust on her
face had hid its youthful color, aging her.
The expedition emerged from the jungle on a sandy stretch of barren
land. A thousand feet away a gigantic metal object lay on the sand,
crumpled as though it had dropped from a great distance. It had been
globular before the crash, and was pierced with holes like windows.
What could it possibly be? A house? But whoever heard of a metal house?
Why, who could forge such a thing! Yasak's house in the City had iron
doors, and they were considered one of the most wonderful things of the
age. It would take a giant to make such a ponderous thing as this.
A house, fallen from the sky? The green lights poured out of its
crumpled part, and a strange bubbling and hissing filled the air.
Koroby stopped short, clasping her hands and involuntarily uttering a
squeal of joyful excitement, for between her and the blaze, his eyes on
the destruction, stood a man.....
He was very tall, and his shoulders were very wide. Oh, but he looked
like a man, and stood like one--even though his hands were folded
behind his back and he was probably dejected. A man in a house from the
sky--
Koroby hastily grasped a corner of her gown, moistened it with saliva,
and scrubbed her face. She rearranged her hair, and stepped forward.
"Don't go there--it's magic--he'll cast a spell--!" one of the bearers
whispered urgently, reaching after her, but Koroby pushed him away. The
litter-carriers watched the girl go, unconsciously huddling together
as if feeling the need for combined strength. They withdrew into the
jungle's shadows, and waited there anxiously, ready at any moment to
run away.
But Koroby, with supreme confidence, walked toward the stranger, her
lovely body graceful as a cat's, her face radiant. The man did not hear
her. She halted behind him, waited silent, expectant, excited--but he
did not turn. The green fire sputtered upward. At last the girl stepped
to the man's side and gently touched him again. He turned, and her
heart faltered: she swayed with bliss.
He was probably a god. Not even handsome Yasak looked like this. Here
was a face so finely-chiseled, so perfectly proportioned, that it was
almost frightening, unhuman, mechanical. It was unlined and without
expression, somehow unreal. Mysterious, compelling.
He was clothed very peculiarly. A wonderfully-made metallic garment
enclosed his whole body--legs and all, unlike the Venus-men's tunics.
Even his feet were covered. Perhaps it was armor--though the Venus-men
usually wore only breastplate and greaves. And a helmet hid all of
the man's head except his face. Around his waist was a belt with many
incomprehensible objects dangling from it. If he was so well armored,
why was he not carrying a sword--a dagger at least! Of what use were
those things on his belt--for instance, that notched L-shaped thing? It
would not even make a decent club!
The stranger did not speak, merely gazed deeply into Koroby's eyes. And
she, returning the gaze, wondered if he was peering into her very soul.
The words of a folk-ballad came to her:
"--He'll smile and touch my cheek,
And maybe more;
And though we'll neither speak,
We'll know the score--"
* * * * *
Suddenly he put his hands to her cheeks and bent close to her, his eyes
peering into hers as though he were searching for something he had lost
in them. She spoke her thought: "What are you doing? You seem to be
reading my mind!"
Without removing hands, he nodded. "Reading--mind." He stared long
into her eyes. His dispassionate, too-perfect face began to frighten
her. She slipped back from him, her hand clutching her throat.
He straightened up and spoke--haltingly at first, then with growing
assurance. "Don't be afraid. I mean you no harm." She trembled. It was
such a wonderful voice--it was as she had always dreamed it! But she
had never really believed in the dream....
He was looking at the wrecked globe of metal. "So there are people on
Venus!" he said slowly.
Koroby watched him, forgot her fear, and went eagerly to him, took his
arm. "Who are you?" she asked. "Tell me your name!"
He turned his mask of a face to her. "My name? I have none," he said.
"No name? But who are you? Where are you from? And what is that?" She
pointed at the metal globe.
"The vehicle by which I came here from a land beyond the sky," he said.
She had no concept of stars or space, and he could not fully explain.
"From a world known as Terra."
She was silent a moment, stunned. So there was another world! Then she
asked, "Is it far? Have you come to take me there?"
Here the similarity between her dream and actual experience ended.
What was he thinking as he eyed her for a long moment? She had no way
of guessing. He said, "No, I am not going to take you back there." Her
month gaped in surprise, and he continued, "As for the distance to
Terra--it is incredibly far away."
The glare was beginning to die, the green flames' hissing fading to a
whisper. They watched the melting globe sag on the sand. Then Koroby
said, "But if it is so far away, how could you speak my language? There
are some tribes beyond the jungle whose language is unlike ours--"
"I read your mind," he explained indifferently. "I have a remarkable
memory."
"Remarkable indeed!" she mocked. "No one here could do that."
"But my race is infinitely superior to yours," he said blandly. "You
little people--ah--" He gestured airily.