We were hurrying back to Parkside to warn the rest, when a voice stopped us. I do not know what the voice uttered, but Krill Hvensor knew, for it was a call in his own language. He turned at once, and there, standing outside an open hatchway on the upper surface of the Disc was a Virian.
He called back to the figure, which was dressed in the black one-piece overall costume we had worn when we landed. There was some exchange of words, and Krill Hvensor turned to us in some excitement.
"That is Adda Manganna, one of my people," he said. "The Disc is a Nagani ship, and has brought envoys of the little-people-with-the-big-eyes." This was the poetical term by which the Virians referred to the Nagani among themselves.
The Virian on the Disc called again, and there was a long interchange between him and Krill Hvensor, accompanied by much gesticulation. At last Krill Hvensor turned to us again.
"There are ten more of my people aboard that ship," he panted — for the waving of arms and shouting had left him breathless. "Adda Manganna has told me that they are the last survivors of our race, and have come from the Lunar base. There are also two hundred and more Nagani, and their leaders wish to speak with our leaders."
By now, Adda Manganna had sprung lightly to the turf, and had joined us. He bowed to us, and murmured a greeting in his own language, accompanying it with the curious spiral motion of the left foot and crossing of arms on the chest as he turned towards the sun. Krill Hvensor repeated the motions, somewhat perfunctorily, I thought, for since living alongside Terrestrials he had abandoned much of his ritual.
"The Nagani are not wishful to alarm our people here," Krill Hvensor said, after further conversation.
"And so they have undertaken to remain in their Disc until we are prepared to see them. What is your word, Leo Arabin?"
"I must consult with my people," Leo replied slowly. "In the meantime, Krill Hvensor, take Adda Manganna" — the Virian bowed again as he heard his name pronounced — "take Adda Manganna to the house and entertain him. Show him — show him a little of how we live on this world. And tell him that until the sun is fully risen, my thoughts are not for any man. We will speak to him in an hour."
The two Virians drew apart and walked towards the house.
Leo gripped my arm. "Denis, in God's name, what are we to do?" he breathed. "I feel certain that this is a Vulcanid plant. They promised to strike within twenty-four hours, and I feel that this is it."
"But couldn't this be a genuine Nagani move?" I asked.
He shook his head abruptly. "Too much of a coincidence, Denis," he said. "If the frog-men wanted to come here, why have they waited until this particular moment? Damn! They've had nearly a year, and then they pop in on us just when we're waiting for the Vulcanids to polish us off. I only wish it could be an authentic Nagani visit. The Nagani might know how to handle the Vulcanids."
We entered the house a little behind the two Virians.
Leo had the whole household roused, except for Rachelle. It was useless trying to keep this thing from the others. The first person to look out of a front window would see the great black Disc sitting out there in the park. He put it to them that the Disc was announced as a Nagani mission, but, he impressed on them without disclosing the Vulcanid ultimatum, there were some doubts. A Virian had stepped out of the Disc, but even so, he might be a Virian remaining under the old evil control.
The household took the news philosophically. I think many of them had a suspicion that the Vulcanids might have threatened to annihilate us, and the general opinion was that, even if this was a trap, there was little we could do about it. On the suggestion of Cohen, a man was sent quietly to the microphone to warn the farm, and within half an hour every person — except Rachelle — had been advised of the new development.
After a long discussion, it was decided that the farm people should lay their hands on every fire-gun they could, and should stand by ready to attack any Vulcanids who came their way. We at Parkside also saw that we were as fully armed with the Vulcanid-destroying fire-guns as possible.
Leo also warned them that if this were a genuine move by the Nagani, those who were unfamiliar with them might get a serious psychological shock when they first saw one of the frog-like creatures. He described the Nagani as best he could from his exceedingly short experience of them, and tried to persuade his hearers to accept the creatures amicably — if it were Nagani that the Disc contained. I could see that he was still doubtful as we left for our talk with Adda Manganna.
First, though, he called Krill Hvensor, and asked him whether this newly arrived Virian was an independent being, or whether he was likely to be still under the control of the Vulcanid monsters.
"He is a true Virian, Leo Arabin," replied Krill Hvensor solemnly. "Of that I am sure. He is of the same family as myself some generations back and I can see his mind and think with his mind at some times."
He referred to the remarkable ability of members of the same family to practise telepathy. We should have to accept the fact, Leo whispered to me. Adda Manganna, Krill Hvensor explained, was not one of the Receptor class of Virians, but had been solely occupied in working with the Nagani. Consequently, although he had seen many Terrestrial humans, he had never had the opportunity of learning their languages.
When he was called in, Krill Hvensor translated for him. There were many gaps in the translation, for, Krill Hvensor insisted, many Virian thought concepts were that and nothing more, and could not be put into Terrestrial language. The conversation was remarkable, too, for its long silences, during which, I gathered, the two Virians were communing silently on a telepathic plane.
The gist of Adda Manganna's message was that the Nagani envoys were here for the purpose of discussing the sharing of our world with us. They came in peace — although, Krill Hvensor whispered, they were well able to destroy us even more effectively than the comparatively clumsy Vulcanids. If the word was "No," they would retire, but, if they did, they would destroy their own race. Their numbers had never been great, and now there were something under half a million of them, divided between Vulcan and the Lunar base. There were a few other very small outposts, including one on Jupiter's second satellite, one on Mars, and one, consisting of an allied species, on Venus.
Leo interrupted Krill Hvensor's discourse. "Ask him what happened to the Vulcanids on Hafna," he urged. "How many are left? Why are these specimens of them here now? What is to happen to the Vulcanids now on Earth?"
Krill Hvensor bowed, and turned towards Adda Manganna. There was little talk but much gesticulation.
"There are no Vulcanids remaining on Hafna, Leo Arabin," the Virian said slowly. "The Nagani, who have always hated them as alien beings akin to a plague, have destroyed all' of them on that world, and at the Lunar base."
"Then how many are left, besides those here now?" Leo persisted. "Go on, Krill Hvensor. See that he answers truly."
Krill Hvensor winced, and Leo at once apologised, for the Virians were proud of the fact that, now that they were freed of Vulcanid control, they were unable to lie.
There were no further Vulcanids in the Solar System — at least, none that the Nagani had been able to locate, we learnt.
Leo leaned across to me. "If this is true," he declared, "it explains why the Vulcanids have been so eager to come to this world. If they're on the run from the Nagani, it seems that this world would be the only place left for them. They must have smuggled some of their number aboard that Disc at Primswood in the hope of preserving their race."
Krill Hvensor was impatient to proceed with the information he had received from Adda Manganna.
Leo motioned him to continue.
"Adda Manganna wishes you to know," he went on, "that the Nagani are willing to offer proof of their good will. They will leave a dozen of their number here, to be at the disposal of Axel Bjornstrom. The doctor may examine them, dissect them, do anything he wishes with them to assure you that they are not an evil race. Indeed, I myself know that the Nagani are an industriou
s, decent race. Their need of a new world, is even more urgent than is the Vulcanids. They are not of a corrupt substance, as are the Vulcanids... What is your word, Leo Arabin?"
But Adda Manganna waved him to silence, and spoke a few words to Krill Hvensor. Then the newcomer repeated some sounds pronounced by Krill Hvensor, and leaned across the table to us, smiling. In halting English, he spoke to us.
"Words from Krill Hvensor, I learn, so that I can say this," he beamed. "As more proof the Nagani peaceful, they bring gift." He nodded swiftly, and then hurried from the room and out of the house. As we watched him cross the park to the Disc, Leo shook his head. "This'll be it!" he murmured. "Now he'll turn a regiment of bloody jellyfish loose on us."
I tried to reason with him, for I had been deeply impressed by the new Virian.
A few minutes later, as we watched through binoculars, we caught our breath. Four Virians had emerged from the lower hatch of the Disc. They dragged four immense but lightly built crates behind them. They were followed by five other Virians — females, this time — driving — sheep!
It was like a miniature procession from Noah's Ark, for with the sheep were several dogs, wagging their tails furiously, and four horses!
Adda Manganna strode proudly to the door and called us out. He drew us towards the four great crates lying on the grass, and as we approached them, the Virians tending them flung back the lids, and released flight after flight of birds!
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
From the windows of our home facing the park went up a shout that could have been heard across the river, as, with a rush of wings, birds seemed to be all around us. Even Leo was halted in his doubts, and as for me, well, I am not ashamed to admit that I was laughing and crying at the same time. It was some moments before I realised that somebody was clutching my arm with both hands and sobbing silently. I looked down and saw Lucille, tears running down her face as she smiled rapturously.
"La vie se rendre chez nous" she whispered. "Tout ira bien, maintenant..."
"Grace a Dieu! Lucille," I murmured.
If the Nagani had spent a lifetime in finding a means of ensuring a friendly reception from us, they could not have done better. They had brought back to us some of our own creatures — few enough, alas! but nevertheless an adequate start towards restocking the world with life.
We saw no Nagani. The little creatures had the good sense — perhaps intuition is the better word — to allow our people to accustom themselves to the arrival of the animals and birds. Then, after half an hour or so, Adda Manganna came and spoke in a low voice to Leo. I did not hear what he said, nor did I hear Krill Hvensor's translation, but I understood in a moment, for Leo called me over.
"Do we want to talk with the Nagani in our own surroundings?" he asked me. "Or shall we meet them inside the Disc?"
I looked around at the crowd of our people, busy rounding up the drove of animals that had suddenly appeared among them. It would be possible, I supposed, to have them return to the house and then have the Nagani spokesmen conducted there in more or less of secrecy. It would be possible, but it would be unkind, under the present circumstances.
So I nodded in the direction of the Disc.
As we walked through the thick grass to the great black shape before us, Leo grasped my arm. "I'm still not entirely satisfied," he whispered.
Before we could talk further, we were at the lower hatch, and Adda Manganna was ushering us inside.
Close behind us came Krill Hvensor and Axel, who had attached himself to us. Leo tried to wave him back, but he insisted on coming in with us. And before the hatchway slid back into place behind us, Lucille had wriggled through.
"I shall stay wit' you," she insisted. There was nothing I could do about it, as the sliding door was now closed. In any case, as I had come to realise, there was rarely anything I could ever do about it once she had made up her mind. Not that she often made a wrong decision... but I am wandering from the point.
Inside the Disc, instead of gloom and darkness, we found a soft light everywhere Its source was puzzling until I noticed that the illumination came from the walls of the narrow winding passage we were in. Fluorescent wallpaper had been a novelty in London twelve or fifteen years before, but now we were used to it This light, though, was much stronger, and, as we later had proof, could be regulated by adjusting a small wheel sunk in the wall every few yards.
The passage wound upwards, and we passed a number of doors leading from it. Most of them were no more than three feet high, and were obviously for use by the Nagani.
Adda Manganna (Leo would refer to him as "Anna Magnana" — an Italian film star of the old days of flat moving pictures — but he acknowledged this name as well as his own) opened a door for us and we found ourselves in a hexagonal room, with a thickly carpeted floor and upholstered low benches running round three sides of a table. Even though the ceiling of the room was high enough for us —
and I stand an inch over six feet tall — the rest of the furnishings were on a small scale, and the table was about eighteen inches high.
As we sat down, Krill Hvensor, interpreting, asked us whether we were ready to see the Nagani.
I may have given the impression that we entertained fear of seeing these creatures. If so, the reader must forgive me. Our solicitation was all for the rest of our people who had never seen one of this race before. This was necessary, as we often found later, before our people got thoroughly accustomed to the remarkable fact that a race of beings with even more intelligence than ourselves should look so animal.
And, to make matters more difficult still, they had the look of the sort of animal one only sees in nightmares. The Nagani are well known among us now, but at that time, the first sight of one was a shock to the senses..
The fact that they were unable to converse by sounds produced by any sort of larynx, too, was disturbing to us. Their reactions are, of course, totally alien to humanity. I know they have a sense of humour, but they never laugh. On the other hand, their mobile faces portray a host of emotions which they probably never feel. They claim that this mobility of countenance is as much a useless relic of their prehistoric past as are toenails in the case of humans, and they are very likely right, at that.
One factor partly reassured us at first, and partly shocked us. That was the clothing they wore. We were encouraged to think of them as civilised beings because they wore clothing, and yet at the same time we were shocked as one would be shocked by seeing a dog in a tailor-made suit. We realised that the clothing served a protective purpose rather than a fashionable end, and that their highly sensitive outer surface must be covered to avoid dangerous shock to their systems.
But all this will seem very strange to the reader, who is as familiar with the Nagani as he is with his own race by now. However, I mention it to give some idea of our first reactions to proximity with these creatures. And so I return to my narrative.
Arabin nodded, and Adda Manganna left us. A few minutes later he returned, and he was not alone.
We tried our best to avoid any display of shock as the tremendously dignified little figure of a Nagani took its place on a low stool at the vacant end of the table.
A few seconds later, two more of the small figures entered, bearing a flat case, with a handle at each end. They placed this on the table and opened it before leaving.
The Nagani reached inside and drew out a long transparent flexible cord, with a flat disc at the end.
Guided by Adda Manganna, we accepted similar cords, and under his instruction placed them to our foreheads. At first, the impression each of us received — as I checked later — was of a whirling blaze of colours, which became brighter and more visible as we closed our eyes. The nearest comparable sensation I had experienced before was the sudden and crazy flow of incomprehensible figures and colours one sees during the early stages of anaesthetisation.
I watched the others, and suddenly saw that the transparent cord held by Axel had changed from a pale green textu
re to an opaque white. The face of Axel changed comparably, from blank amazement to sudden comprehension.
He looked round at us quickly. "The pineal eye!" he shot out. "Is the pineal eye — 'here, top of nose, like I show you — that sees these things!"
I shifted my disc to a spot above my nose, and at once saw not only Axel's thoughts, but those of the Nagani and those of the rest of us. It seemed as though two clear pictures moved against a vivid, confused background. Then, as the others finally adjusted their apparatus, the pictures merged into one and the background became neutral.
We know now, of course, that it is impossible to reproduce the vision seen by means of the Nagani tele-mentor. And it is almost as impracticable to reduce it to the written word. The instrument conveys pure thought, and each person, while accepting and appreciating that thought, sees and construes it in a different manner. However, in the case of constructive thought, there is a strong resemblance between the vision "seen" by one person and that comprehended by another. That was so in this case.
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