"Why can't I accompany you?" The Martian growled. "Since when must I be left behind in the face of danger? Am I an old woman, Mark?"
"But there's no danger, Palanth! It's a promise I gave that never, never would I bring any intelligent creature to Panadur without their approval. This world's a treasure house, and the Panadurs are a treasure in themselves, for their fur is finer than anything in the Universe, including Neptune's moons. I know of a vast cavern floored with oxide, and cliffs of pure metal. Europa, or rather, Panadur, is an inexhaustible source of power! It remains with them—the Panadurs, whether we remain or not." He smiled at them again, almost pleadingly, for them to understand, and without another word, stepped through the air-locks and was gone. They could see his tall figure in its gleaming sheath outlined in the unearthly glow until it disappeared in the distance.
Mark Lynn let his mind be passive. Contact with the alien intelligence had been made; the jewel in his hand was now a burst of radiance, as he traversed the valley in the direction of the cavern country, and at last he was before the gigantic mass of cliffs he sought. He entered a low, gallery-like cave that wound downwards into the bowels of the cliff, following the twisting turns as the gallery widened and the luminescent walls became even more luminous, until at the end of a turn a burst of radiance met his eyes and he was once more in the grotto of titanic proportions lighted by the glaucous radiance, like the green light beneath the waters of a shallow sea. At his feet, crystalline and powdery, the entire floor of the grotto was covered by oxide as far as his eyes could see. Mark had the odd sensation of living a part of his life over again. He waited in silence.
Mark knew that thousands of burning beryl eyes were peering at him from concealed openings in the walls; he felt the mental rapport with their leader that was rapidly absorbing from his mind all that could be obtained. The wait was interminable. At last, a silvery-grey, furred being, was before Mark, seemingly having come from nowhere. Its exquisite triangular face, with the wide-set beryl eyes and broad forehead, was startlingly human.
"Greetings, twice come!" the faint shadow of a smile seemed to cross its features as it telepathed the thought. "When your space machine landed, we feared the worst—but we are reassured. Your mind tells me that countless of your kind hover asleep over our world. What would you have us do?"
"Your permission to remain," Mark sent the telepathic reply. And then, in a welling flood of thought, poured out the story of what had happened on Terra, the resettlement of two-thirds of the population on other planets, and finally, their abhorrence of their Terran Government and its methods.
"Allow us, O Panadur, to build a new civilization on your world, a civilization where we may achieve happiness in freedom. We bring over two thousand Space machines laden with everything we can possibly need, and millions of eager beings. We will transform your world into a Paradise such as you have never known. Weather control stations will give Panadur freedom from cold and darkness; cities will be reared in beauty, and to you, we guarantee forever, freedom from attack; for if we do not remain on Panadur, whom the Terrans call Europa, the Council of Terra will never rest until it has been subjugated by its interstellar fleet. Your mines will be ravaged, your people will be enslaved, blood redder than the angry spot of the greater world will flow in rivers."
"And how can you prevent them from doing so, in any event?" the Panadur asked.