Why not, indeed? What difference could it possibly make to him if they
swarmed all over the old house, laughing at its ancientness and its
inadequacies, posing grinning for the cameras in front of it, prancing
about in old-fashioned costumes and making a show of it. What could
that mean to him, who cared nothing about this forgotten planet or
anything on it?
And yet something in him revolted at what they would do here, and he
said,
"We might have to take off very suddenly, now. Having you all out here
away from the ship could involve a dangerous delay."
"You said yourself we wouldn't take off for a few days yet!" exclaimed
Borrodale. And he added firmly, "I don't know why you should want to
obstruct us, Captain. But I can go over your head to higher authority."
* * * * *
He went away, and Kellon thought unhappily, He'll message back to
Survey headquarters and I'll get my ears burned off, and why the devil
did I do it anyway? I must be getting real planet-happy.
He went and sat down on the terrace, and watched until the sunset
deepened into dusk. The moon came up white and brilliant, but the air
was not quiet tonight. A hot, dry wind had begun to blow, and the stir
of the tall grass made the slopes and plains seem vaguely alive. It was
as though a queer pulse had come into the air and the ground, as the
sun called its child homeward and Earth strained to answer. The house
dreamed in the silver light, and the flowers in the garden rustled.
Borrodale came back, a dark pudgy figure in the moonlight. He said
triumphantly,
"I got through to your headquarters. They've ordered your full
cooperation. We'll want to make our first broadcast here tomorrow."