"If they're intelligent, of course they will," Longtree said certainly, not caring. "Their culture will probably be alien, though, and their music--" He paused and turned a very deep yellow. "Of course! They might even be able to furnish the note I need to complete my symphony!" Channeljumper shook his head. "You've got to compose it all yourself," he reminded, "or you don't qualify. And if you don't qualify, you can't win, and if you don't win, you can't marry Redsand." "But just one little note--" Longtree said. Channeljumper shrugged helplessly and turned sympathetically green. "I don't make the rules," he said. "No. Well," Longtree went on in sudden determination, "I'll find that last note if I have to stay permanently purple." Channeljumper shuddered jestingly at this but remained pleasantly orange. "And I'll leave you alone so you can get to work," he said, unfolding himself. "Goodbye," Longtree said, but Channeljumper's long legs had already taken him over to the nearest sand dune and out of sight. Alone, Longtree picked up the blowstring once more, placed it against his stomach, and gave out with a clear, beautiful, experimental note which was again not the one he desired. He still had not found it an hour later, when the Sound came. The Sound was a low unpleasant rumble, a sound lower than any Longtree had ever heard, and he wondered what it was. Thinking of it, he remembered he had seen a large flash of fire in the sky a moment before the roar came. But since this last was clearly not likely at all, he dismissed the whole thing as imagination and tried again to coax some new note from the blowstring. A half hour later, Channeljumper came bounding excitedly over a sand dune. "They're here," he cried, screeching to a halt and emitting yellow flashes of color. "Who's here?" Longtree demanded, turning violet in annoyance at the interruption. "The visitors from space," Channeljumper explained. "They landed near my hole. They're little creatures, only half as big as we are, but thicker and grey colored." "Grey colored?" Longtree repeated incredulously, trying to picture the improbability. "But only on the outside," Channeljumper went on. "They have an outside shell that comes off, and inside they're sort of pink-orange." "Ah-ha," Longtree said, as though he'd suspected it all the time. "Evidently they wear grey suits of some kind, probably for protection." "They took them off anyway," Channeljumper said, eager to impart his knowledge, "and they were sort of pink-orange underneath. There are only two of them, and one has long hair." "Strange," Longtree mused, thinking of their own hairless bodies. "Wonder what they want." Channeljumper shrugged to indicate he didn't know. "The short-haired one followed me," he said.