"Half an hour," said the Explorer.
It was going to be a lonely trip back. All the remaining seventeen of
the crew were dead and their ashes were to be left on a strange planet.
Back they would go with a limping ship and the burden of the controls
entirely on himself.
The Merchant said, "It was a good business stroke, not harming the young
ones. We will get very good terms; _very_ good terms."
The Explorer thought: Business!
The Merchant then said, "They've lined up to see us off. All of them.
You don't think they're too close, do you? It would be bad to burn any
of them with the rocket blast at this stage of the game."
"They're safe."
"Horrible-looking things, aren't they?"
"Pleasant enough, inside. Their thoughts are perfectly friendly."
"You wouldn't believe it of them. That immature one, the one that first
picked us up--"
"They call him Red," provided the Explorer.
"That's a queer name for a monster. Makes me laugh. He actually feels
_bad_ that we're leaving. Only I can't make out exactly why. The nearest
I can come to it is something about a lost opportunity with some
organization or other that I can't quite interpret."
"A circus," said the Explorer, briefly.
"What? Why, the impertinent monstrosity."
"Why not? What would you have done if you had found _him_ wandering on
_your_ native world; found him sleeping on a field on Earth, red
tentacles, six legs, pseudopods and all?"