"And blind, too?" Compton wanted to know. "And without the sense of touch?" There was a strange quality to his voice, as though some primitive part of his unconsciousness was telling him to run. Hinckley bent to tap the girl lightly upon the shoulder. "Pardon me, Miss. We're visitors from Earth," he told her. But she paid no attention to the sound of his voice, and he stepped back, puzzled. "Now what?" Compton wanted to know. He looked around him nervously, at the house, the speckled sand, the rocket squatting behind them. "I hope all the natives aren't like this." "I do," Parker said, licking his lips thoughtfully and keeping his gaze on the girl. "I'd just as soon have them all like this. It might be interesting." Compton flushed. "What I meant--" "He knows what you meant," Hinckley said harshly. "And there won't be any of that going on here. You caused enough trouble on the other planets, and it's not going to happen again, not while I'm in charge of this expedition. We didn't come all the way out here just so you could satisfy your romantic inclinations." "And how about my off hours, _Captain_," Parker said, emphasizing the word as though it were obscene; "then may I fraternize?" "You have no off hours," Hinckley said sternly. "Here comes another one," Compton warned in a whisper. A man, dressed in robes similar to the woman's, came from the door of the house and walked into the yard. After helping the woman to rise, he picked up the vase, and the two of them went back inside the house. He hadn't even looked at the Earthmen. After awhile, Parker said, "Do you suppose they're both mirages?" "Maybe that's it," Compton said. "Maybe it's all a mirage, the woman, the vase, the man, the house, maybe even the planet itself." His voice had risen in his excitement. "Take it easy," Hinckley advised. "Let's get back to the ship before the whole planet evaporates," Compton said. "Go back if you like," Hinckley said. "I'm going to investigate this. How about you, Parker?" "Okay with me. Always wanted to see what makes a mirage tick." He glanced contemptuously at Compton. "Okay," Compton said, gripping his rifle, "we'll all make fools of ourselves." "C'mon, then." Hinckley led the way into the house, hesitating only briefly at the doorway. Inside, a blue light flickered as the man bent over a flaming trough and poured sand into it from the silver vase. The flames leaped high, filling the room with a sweet fragrance. The man emptied the vase, rose and took it to one corner of the room. He sat down on the couch by the woman. He did not look at the Earthlings. "He doesn't see us either," Compton said hoarsely. He cried, "Hey, you! You! Listen! We're Earthmen. Visitors from space." His voice was explosive in the silence. The man didn't look up. The Earthmen became aware of music seeping from the walls, music strange and hauntingly beautiful, played on incredible invisible instruments.