Science fiction; Space flight -- Fiction; Space ships -- Fiction
Seaton then tried to make Nalboon understand that they wanted copper,
pointing to his anklet, the only copper in sight. The chief instantly
removed the trinket and handed it to Seaton; who, knowing by the gasp of
surprise of the guard that it was some powerful symbol, returned it with
profuse apologies. After trying in vain to make the other understand
what he wanted, he led him into the Skylark and showed him the remnant
of the power-bar. He showed him its original size and indicated the
desired number by counting to sixteen upon his fingers. Nalboon nodded
his comprehension and going outside, pointed upward toward the largest
of the eleven suns visible, motioning its rising and setting, four
times.
He then invited the visitors, in unmistakable sign language, to
accompany him as guests of honor, but Seaton refused.
"Lead on, MacDuff, we follow," he replied, explaining his meaning by
signs as they turned to enter the vessel. The slaves followed closely
until Crane remonstrated.
"We don't want them aboard, do we, Dick? There are too many of them."
"All right," Seaton replied, and waved them away. As they stepped back
the guard seized the nearest, a woman, and forced her to her knees;
while a man, adorned with a necklace of green human teeth and carrying a
shining broadsword, prepared to decapitate her.
"We must take them with us, I see," said Crane, as he brushed the guards
aside. Followed by the slaves, the party entered the Skylark, and the
dark green people embarked in their airplanes and helicopters.
Nalboon rode in a large and gaily-decorated plane, which led the fleet
at its full speed of six hundred miles an hour, the Skylark taking a
placing a few hundred yards above the flagship.
"I don't get these folks at all, Mart," said Seaton, after a moment's
silence. "They have machines far ahead of anything we have on Earth and
big guns that shoot as fast as machine-guns, and yet are scared to death
at a little simple sleight-of-hand. They don't seem to understand
matches at all, and yet treat fire-works as an every-day occurrence."
"We will have to wait until we know them better," replied Crane, and
DuQuesne added:
"From what I have seen, their power seems to be all electrical. Perhaps
they aren't up with us in chemistry, even though they are ahead of us in
mechanics?"
* * * * *
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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