I put my hand over his mouth. Then I saw that Guy was holding the
receiver limply away from his ear.
He spluttered. "They just taped a radio message from the rocket. It's
true that the radio wasn't thrown out. But we didn't have a record like
_this_ on that rocket."
He yelled into the phone. "Play it back." He thrust the receiver at me.
For a moment, there was only a gritty buzz from the receiver. Then the
tape started playing a soft, high voice. "This is Rocket Harold saying
everything is well. This is Rocket Harold saying good-by to men." There
was a pause and then, in clear volpla language, another voice spoke.
"Man who made us, we forgive you. We know we did not come from the
stars, but we go there. I, chief, give you welcome to visit. Good-by."
* * * * *
We all stood around too exhausted by the excitement to say anything. I
was filled with a big, sudden sadness.
I stood for a long time and looked out to the east, where the sprawling
mountain range held a bowl of dancing fireflies between her black
breasts.
Presently I said to old Guy, "How long do you think it will be before
you have a manned rocket ready for Venus?"