The Sirians were dressed in loin cloths as bright and multi-colored
as the tear-shaped meadow flowers. Their resemblance to Earthmen made
Captain Torkel gasp.
He could discern no appreciable difference save for the perfect
roundness of their dark eyes and a slight elongation of their ears.
Their flesh was golden tan.
"Well, hello!" said Captain Torkel.
The Sirians moved toward him, with such grace that they seemed not men
striding through the singing forest, but part of the living trees and
ferns and flowers.
"Hello," echoed the foremost Sirian, smiling. He was a young man, about
thirty by Earth standards, with long black hair and wide, muscular
shoulders. His handsome face reminded Captain Torkel of romantic Latin
heroes in the micro-movies aboard the _Star Queen_.
Captain Torkel pointed to the sky. "We come from up there, from another
world."
The Sirian's eyes were like black lights spearing into the captain's
skull. "Yes, you come from star. You are Star People. Where is your
star?"
"It's a long way--"
"Hey, he spoke in English!" cried Fox. "What the hell!"
"I--I'm going back to the rocket," stammered Van Gundy, shaking.
"Lord, I need a drink," murmured Lieutenant Washington, stepping back
with Van Gundy.
"Wait, all of you," Captain Torkel commanded them. To the Sirian he
said, "We know that Earthmen haven't been here before. How do you speak
our language?"
The young man's smile broadened. "Your mind is a fire sending out
warmth to us. Within the warmth I see sounds you use to make words."
"Telepathy," said Captain Torkel.
"Yes," the Sirian agreed. "And I see that your people are troubled.
They fear a strange thing--a coming of heat and light. Your world is
soon to be destroyed, yes?"
Suddenly the captain was afraid. The fear came to him in an invisible
cloud, settling over him, seeping into his flesh and chilling his
bones. He tried to believe that it was the senseless fear of a child
whose imagination has peopled the dark corners of his room with
nameless monsters. He tried to crush the fear, but it clung to him in
fog-cold intensity.
The Sirian nodded understandingly. "You must not worry now about the
coming of the great heat. You are tired. You must come with us to our
village. You must see how we live."
* * * * *
The captain's legs were weak. He wanted to flee; he wanted to escape
from the Sirian's omnipresent smile and his round-eyed piercing gaze.
Van Gundy whispered to him, very softly, "Did you bring weapons,
Captain? Should we go without weapons?"
"I--I forgot about weapons," he whispered back, his face reddening.