"Yes," said Mills. "But there's nothing like this thing known in the solar system, nothing even close to this fast. Besides that, there was a sighting several days ago that's being studied. "One of the radio observatories claims to have received a new signal from one of the star clusters...." * * * * * The huge metal vessel settled to a perfect contact with its assigned strip. It hovered over the geometric center of the long runway and touched without raising a speck of dust. Not a sound, not a puff of smoke issued from any part of it. Immediately it rose a few feet above the concrete and began to move toward the parking strip. It moved with the weightless ease of an ancient dirigible on a still day. It was easily the largest, strangest object ever seen before at the spaceport. A team of searchlight men swivelled the large spot atop the tower and bathed the ship in orange light. "What's that mean?" asked Mills paging his way through a book. "'Halt propulsion equipment,' I think," said Harrison. "It's a good thing the code makers were vague about that," smiled Mills. "It's a good thing they didn't say jets or rockets--'cause this thing hasn't got any." "_Attention!_" That single word suddenly issued from the alien ship. "_The Races of Wan greet you._" It might have been the voice of a frog. It was low, gutteral, entirely alien, entirely without either enthusiasm or trace of human emotion. "Jesus!" muttered Mills. Scores of video teams focused equipment on the gleaming alien. "_The Races of Wan desire contact with you._" "In English yet!" amazed Mills. "The basis of this contact together with its nature are dependent upon _you_!" The voice had become ugly. There was nothing human about it save only the words, which were in flawless English. "Your system has long been under surveillance by the Races of Wan. Your--progress has been noted." There was almost a note of contempt, thought Harrison, in the last sentence. "Your system is about to reach others. It therefore becomes a matter of urgency that the Races of Wan make contact. "Your cultural grasp is as yet quite small. You reach four of your own system's planets. You have attempted--with little success--colonization. You anticipate further penetrations. "You master the physical conditions of your system with difficulty. You are a victim of many of the natural laws--natural laws which you dimly perceive. "But you master yourselves with greatest difficulty, and you are infinitely more a victim of forces within your very nature--_forces which you know almost not at all_." "What the hell--" began Mills. "Because of this disparity your maturity as a race is much in doubt. There are many among the cultures of the stars who would consider your race deviant and deadly. There are a very few who would welcome you to the reaches of space.