And then came the cheering. It was like a slow tide of noise that seemed to begin far away on the tops of the hills and roll downward gathering strength and momentum as it went, until it broke over them in a roaring ocean of sound that flooded their senses. The hills themselves suddenly seemed to become alive as a pattern of spontaneous movement erupted as far as the eye could see. People in the tens of thousands were on their feet, shouting out the tension and the anticipation that had been building up inside them for days, and as they shouted, they waved-arms, hats, shirts, coats-anything that came to hand. And behind it all, rising and falling and rising again as if striving to be heard above the din came sporadic strains of massed bands.
The Earthmen halted a few feet down the ramp, momentarily overcome by the combined assault on their senses from all sides.
Then they began moving again, down the ramp and onto the solid ground of Earth beneath the towering columns of the Shapieron’s fins. They marched forward into the sunlight toward a spot where a small party of Earth’s representatives were standing ahead of the main body. They walked as if in a trance, their heads turning to take in the scenes around them, the multitudes on the hills, the lake behind . . . to gaze up at the ship stretching toward the sky above, now quiet and motionless. A few of them raised their arms and began waving back at the crowds on the ~urrounding bills. The noise redoubled as the crowds roared their approval. Soon they were all waving.
Hunt drew closer to the party ahead and recognized the features of Samuel K. Wilby, Secretary General to the UN. Beside him were Irwin Frenshaw, Director General of UNSA from Washington, D.C., and General Bradley Cummings, Supreme Commander of the uniformed arm of the UNSA. Wilby greeted him with an extended hand and a broad smile.
“Dr. Hunt, I believe,” he said. “Welcome home. I believe you’ve brought some friends with you.” He shifted his eyes. “Ah- and you are Professor Danchekker. Welcome.”
Danchekker had no sooner completed shaking hands when the noise around them rose to an unprecedented crescendo. They looked up and back at the ship.
The Ganymeans were coming out.
With (3aruth in the lead, the first group of Giants had emerged at the top of the ramp. There they had stopped, and were staring around them in a way that hinted at their complete bewilderment.
“ZORAC,” Hunt said. “They look a bit lost up there. Tell ’em to come on down and meet the folks.”
“They will,” the machine replied in his ear. “They need a mmute to get used to it. Remember they have not breathed natural air for twenty years. This is the first time they’ve been out in the open for all that time.”
At the tops of other ramps around the ship’s stem section more airlocks had opened and more Ganymeans were appearing. Garuth’s carefully planned order of emergence was already forgotten. Some of the Giants were milling around in the airlock doors, while others were already partway down the ramps; some were just standing motionless and staring.
“They’re a bit lost,” Hunt said to Wilby. “We ought to go over
and straighten them Out.” Wilby nodded and motioned his group to follow. Some UN aides conducted the main party of Earthmen from Ganymede toward the national delegations while Hunt, Danchekker and a couple of others turned back to escort Wilby’s group to the ramps.
“ZORAC, connect me to Garuth,” Hunt muttered as they walked.
“You’re through.”
“This is Vic Hunt. Well, how d’you like it?”
“My people are temporarily overwhelmed,” the familiar voice answered. “Come to that, so am I. I had expected that the sensation of coming out under an open sky after so long would be traumatic, but never anything like this. And all these people. . . the shouting. . . I can find no words.”
“I’m with the group that’s approaching the ramp you’re on now,” Hunt advised. “Get your act together and come on down. There’s people here you have to say hello to.”