spinning, gyrating wreckage.
He had a confused recollection of sitting down violently upon something very hard, and
perceived dully that he was lying asprawl upon the inside of a greenishly shimmering
globe some twenty feet in diameter. Its substance had the
hardness of chilled steel, yet it was almost perfectly transparent, seemingly composed of
cold green flame, pale almost to invisibility. He also observed, in an incurious, foggy
fashion, that the great dome was rushing toward him at an appalling pace.
He soon recovered from his shock, however, and perceived that the peculiar ball in which
he was imprisoned was a shell of force, of formula and pattern entirely different from
anything known to the scientists of Valeron. Keenly alive and interested now, he noted
with high appreciation exactly how the wall of force that was the dome merged with,
made way for, and closed smoothly behind the relatively tiny globe.
Inside the dome he stared around him, amazed and not a little awed. Upon the ground,
the center of that immense hemisphere, lay a featureless, football-shaped structure
which must be the vessel of the invaders. Surrounding it there were massed machines
and engineering structures of unmistakable form and purpose; drills, derricks, shaft
heads, skips, hoists, and other equipment for boring and mining. From the lining of the
huge dome there radiated a strong, lurid, yellowish green light which intensified to
positive ghastliness the natural color of the gaseous chlorin which replaced the familiar
air in that walled-off volume so calmly appropriated to their own use by the Outlanders.
As his shell was drawn downward toward the strange scene Siblin saw many moving
things beneath him, but was able neither to understand what he saw nor to correlate it
with anything in his own knowledge or experience. For those beings were amorphous.
Some flowed along the ground, formless blobs of matter; some rolled, like wheels or like
barrels; many crawled rapidly, snakelike; others resembled animated pancakes,
undulating flatly and nimbly about upon a dozen or so short, tentacular legs; only a few,
vaguely manlike, walked upright.
A glass cage, some eight feet square and seven high, stood under the towering bulge of
the great ship’s side; and as his shell of force engulfed it and its door swung invitingly
open, Siblin knew that he was expected to enter it.
Indeed, he had no choice-the fabric of cold flame that had been his conveyance and
protection vanished, and he had scarcely time to leap inside the cage and slam the door
before the noxious vapors of the atmosphere invaded the space from which the shell’s
impermeable wall had barred it. To die more slowly, but just as surely, from suffocation?
No, the cage was equipped with a thoroughly efficient oxygen generator and air purifier;
there were stores of Valeronian food and water; there were a chair, a table, and a
narrow bunk; and wonder of wonders, there were even kits of toilet articles and of
changes of clothing.
Far above a great door opened. The cage was lifted and, without any apparent means
either of support or of propulsion, it moved through the doorways and along various
corridors and halls, coming finally to rest upon the floor in one of the innermost
compartments of the sky rover. Siblin saw masses of machinery, panels of controlling
instruments, and weirdly multiform creatures at station; but he had scant time even to
glance at them, his attention being attracted instantly to the middle of the room where,
lying in a heavily reenforced shallow cup of metal upon an immensely strong, low table,
he saw a-a something; and for the first time an inhabitant of Valeron saw at close range
one of the invaders.
It was in no sense a solid, nor a liquid, nor yet a jelly; although it seemed to partake of
certain properties of all three. In part it was murkily transparent, in part greenishly
translucent, in part turbidly opaque; but in all it was intrinsically horrible. In every physical
detail and in every nuance of radiant aura of conscious power it was disgusting and
appalling; sickeningly, nauseously revolting to every human thought and instinct.
But that it was sentient and intelligent there could be no doubt. Not only could its malign
mental radiations be felt, but its brain could be plainly seen; a huge, intricately convolute
organ suspended in an unyielding but plastic medium of solid jelly. Its skin seemed thin
and frail, but Siblin was later to learn that that tegument was not only stronger than
rawhide, but was more pliable, more elastic, and more extensible than the finest rubber.
As the Valeronian stared in helpless horror that peculiar skin stretched locally almost to
vanishing thinness and an enormous Cyclopean eye developed: More than an eye, it was
a special organ for a special sense which humanity has never possessed, a sense
combining ordinary vision with something infinitely deeper, more penetrant and more
powerful. Vision, hypnotism, telepathy, thought-transference-something of all, these yet
in essence a thing beyond any sense or faculty known to us or describable in language,
had its being in the almost-visible, almost-tangible beam of force which emanated from
the single, temporary “eye” of the Thing and bored through the eyes and deep into the
brain
of the Valeronian. Siblin’s very senses reeled under the impact of that wave of mental
power, but he did not quite lose consciousness.
“So you are one of the ruling intelligences of this planet -one of its most advanced
scientists?” The scornful thought formed itself, coldly clear, in his mind. “We have always
known, of course, that we are the highest form of life in the universe, and the fact that
you are so low in the scale of mentality only confirms that knowledge. It would be
surprising indeed if such a noxious atmosphere as yours could nurture any real
intelligence. It will be highly gratifying to report to the Council of Great Ones that not only
is this planet rich in the materials we seek, but that its inhabitants, while intelligent enough
to do our bidding in securing those materials, are not sufficiently advanced to cause us
any trouble.”
“Why did you not come in peace?” Siblin thought back. Neither cowed nor shaken, he
was merely amazed at the truculently overbearing mien of the strange entity. “We would
have been glad to cooperate with you in every possible way. It would seem self-evident
that all intelligent races, whatever their outward form or mental status, should work
together harmoniously for their mutual advancement.”
“Bah!” snapped the amoebus savagely. “That is the talk of a weakling-the whining,
begging reasoning of a race of low intelligence, one which knows and acknowledges
itself inferior. Know you, feeble brain, that we of Chlora”—-to substitute an intelligible
word for the unpronounceable and untranslatable thought-image of his native world-
“neither require nor desire cooperation. We are in no need either of assistance or of
instruction from any lesser and lower form of life. We instruct. Other races, such as
yours, either obey or are obliterated. I brought you aboard this vessel because I am
about to return to my own planet, and had decided to take one of you with me, so that
the other Great Ones of the Council may see for themselves what form of life this
Valeron boasts.
“If your race obeys our commands implicitly and does not attempt to interfere with us in
any way, we shall probably permit most of you to continue your futile lives in our service;
such as in mining for us certain ores which, relatively abundant upon your planet, are very
scarce upon ours.
“As for you personally, perhaps we shall destroy you after the other Great Ones have
examined you, perhaps we shall decide to use you as a messenger to transmit our
orders to your fellow creatures. Before we depart, however, I shall make a
demonstration which should impress upon even such feeble minds as those of your race
the futility of any thought of opposition to us. Watch carefully-everything that goes on
outside is shown in the view box.”
Although Siblin had neither heard, felt, nor seen the captain issue any orders, all was in
readiness for the takeoff. The mining engineers were all on board, the vessel was sealed
for flight, and the navigators and control officers were at their panels. Siblin stared
intently into the “view box”, the three-dimensional visiplate that mirrored faithfully every
occurrence in the neighborhood of the Chloran vessel.
The lower edge of the hemisphere of force began to contract, passing smoothly through
or around-the spectator could not decide which-the ruins of Mocelyn, hugging or actually
penetrating the ground, allowing not even a whiff of its precious chlorin content to escape
into the atmosphere of Valeron. The ship then darted into the air and the shrinking edge
became an ever-decreasing circle upon the ground beneath her. That circle disappeared
as the meeting edge fused and the wall of force, now a hollow sphere, contained within