The star, like our own sun, was threatened by some enormous catastrophe, a titanic explosion.
"But how—?" he began to frame another question. The Lassan cut across it firmly. "It is my turn to seek information now. We are interested in the machine that brought you here—the bird machine. How does it operate?"
Sherman imagined himself in the airplane's seat, operating the controls and as well as he could to a strange type of mind, explained how they worked. "But what drives it?" insisted the Lassan. "I do not understand. No, not the queer thing at the front that turns round. We have that principle ourselves. But the thing that makes it turn."
For answer, Sherman tried to picture the interior of the engine and show the gasoline exploding and driving it. The mind opposite his became thoughtful at once, and then flashed a question. "Are there many—explosives—in this earth?"
Sherman pictured gunpowder, dynamite and all the others he could think of. He at once sensed that the Lassan was both astonished and troubled. Something like a mental curtain which he could not pierce, dropped between them. A moment later the elephant-man rose.
"That will be sufficient for the present," he flashed, and came forward to remove the helmet from Sherman's head.
A few moments later the door was swung open; Sherman saw that one of the cars was waiting for him with the word "EXIT" beckoning him on and he was soon back in his cage.
As nearly as he could judge time, he was left alone for quite twenty-four hours before being recalled for further questioning. As soon as he entered the interrogation room he perceived that something serious had engaged the attention of the Lassans. The seat was prepared for him as before, but instead of one of the twisted benches, there were now three. His acquaintance, the old Lassan, occupied the center one; on one side was a chubby elephant-man whose obesity gave a singularly infantile expression to his features and on the other a slender-limbed type, as though by contrast. All three had tubes connected to the helmet which was placed on his head, but he soon recognized that the older Lassan was the only one to ask questions.
"We wish to ask you about these explosives," came the message. "Are they all alike?"
"No," he answered instantly.
"What causes them to explode?"
"I am not a chemist. I don't know." The idea of chemistry was slightly unfamiliar to them; it was apparent from their thoughts that chemistry had never occurred to them as the subject of a special study. Then came another question, "Are there many chemists?"
An idea struck Sherman. He closed his mind resolutely against the question and flashed back the message that he had come to learn as well as teach. He sensed a certain annoyance among the new auditors, but the old Lassan answered, "That is only just. What do you wish to know?"
"What the machines are for."
"In the center of this as of every other earth lies the substance of life, as it lies at the heart of every sun. The machines pierce to it and draw it up for our uses."
"What is this substance of life?"
"You would not understand if we told you. Sufficient that it is nothing known on the surface of your world. Your idea that most nearly approaches it is—" he paused for a moment, feeling about in Sherman's mind for the proper expression "—is pure light; light having material body and strength. Now let me ask—do you use explosives as we use the substance of life, to fight your enemies?"
"Yes."
"What weapons do you use them in?"
Sherman thought of a revolver and then of a cannon.
"And do these weapons act at a distance?"
"Yes. May I ask a question?"
"If it is a brief one. This interview is important to us."
"How many of your people are there on the earth?"
"It is inadvisable to answer that fully, but there are some hundreds. Now tell us, are there any of these weapons near this place?"
Sherman thought. West Point—Watervliet Arsenal—Iona Island, leaped into his mind. All three Lassans leaned back with a sigh of satisfaction and exchanged thoughts among themselves so rapidly that he could not follow the process. Then the two younger Lassans disconnected their helmets and the older one said,
"We are disposed to be generous to you, we will demonstrate one of our fighting machines to you if you will show us how to use these explosives."
There could be no particular harm in it, he argued to himself. The army was a thing of the past, and if there were other people out in the world, and he could take them a knowledge of the Lassan fighting machines it would be of as much value as any information he could give. He agreed.
The old Lassan rose. "You will retain your helmet. It is a rule that none of the lower races are allowed in the fighting machines without them, and you would be unable to control one without our help in any case."
The car carried them to the blue-domed hall where he and Marta Lami had hidden behind the shining fish. A little pang of loneliness leaped up in him at the sight; he wondered where she was and whether she had been sent back to the machines. "No," the Lassan's thought answered his, "the other servant has not been returned to the machines. Many of them are not working as a result of the recent trouble and the servant has been placed on other work instead. But I do not understand your idea that the other servant is somehow different from you."
"Do the Lassans, then, have no sex?" the thought raced through his brain.
"Sex? Oh, I understand. The difference between two of the lower soft races that makes reproduction possible. Our birds have it. No, we have abolished it of course, as all higher races have. Our young are produced artificially."