* * * * *
They brought the couple to the main lounge and set them down at a long
table. The skipper took a seat at the far end. Apparently he planned to
listen but not take part in the questioning. That would be up to Ernest
Hotaling, if he could establish communication.
He'd mastered the language to the extent that he'd been able to
transcribe the record-coils and understand the robot, but whether he
could speak it intelligibly enough so that these living--he almost
thought "breathing"--people would understand him was a question.
Doc Braddon took a seat next to the couple. Rosco was on the other side
of them and Ernest opposite them, across the table.
Up close, it was obvious that they were androids. But they had been
remarkably made. They had none of the jerkiness of movement or
blankness of expression that had characterized Earth's attempts along
the same lines.
Ernest explained his doubts about his ability to make himself
understood and asked his shipmates to be patient with him. He smiled at
the couple and said to them in English: "Welcome to our ship." Then he
repeated it in their humming language.
They returned his smile and the old woman said something to the man.
Rosco looked inquiringly at Ernest, who shook his head.