The spot where the space-ship made its compulsory landing was like a small park. It was divided into geometrically fashioned beds of fantastic, crawling vines, vivid with huge, gaudy flowers and purple-hued, spongy foliage. Surrounding the open space were a number of flat, cylindrical objects which resembled the pieces on an enormous checker-board. Swinging open, like the lids of gigantic waffle-irons, these cylinders belched forth a host of preposterous creatures.
Comparable in size to walruses, their orange-hued bodies were shaped like gigantic slugs or shell-less snails. Their movements, however, were anything but snail-like. With incredible swiftness they flowed toward the space-ship from all directions. As if arrested by a sharp command, they all stopped before they reached the Goddard, ringing it at a respectable distance with an oval wall of pulsating bodies.
After a tense period of seeming indecision, one of their number separated from the others and oozed boldly across the intervening space.
Through the crystal-clear window, Captain Verger could plainly distinguish the creature's face, which, fantastic as it was, weirdly suggested a superior degree of intelligence, such as only human beings can claim. Ears and nostrils it undoubtedly possessed, the former being spirally coiled, like cinnamon rolls, and the latter resembling the muzzle of a double-barreled shotgun. Unusually large was the mouth, which was armed with three rows of greenish teeth. Of all the grotesque features, the most peculiar were its organs of vision. Telescopic, like those of a lobster, its glaring, lidless eyes were mounted on long stalks so that they could be turned in all directions and focussed by drawing them in and out.
For a breathless minute, those weird eyes explored the interior of the space-ship. Then something resembling a three-fingered hand protruded from the creature's shoulder, stretched out until it became a long arm and made an unmistakable beckoning gesture. "Come out," it said as clearly as if it had uttered those very words. Verger answered with a shake of his head, which, though silent, was emphatically eloquent.
Within the crowded cabin of the space-ship, not a sound was heard. The girls had tumbled out of their hammocks and were huddled together, too frightened to speak or even to scream. Like birds fascinated by a serpent, they gazed fearfully at that fiendish face; and when it disappeared from the window, they simultaneously turned their hypnotized eyes on Captain Verger.
It was Helen Green, the red-headed drummer-girl who, assuming the post of spokeswoman, broke the silence. "Well, Captain," she said in a voice which she tried hard to keep from trembling, "What do we do now?"
Verger startled them all by shouting, "I'll tell you what to do! Get into your uniforms! Unpack your horns! Let's have a good, rousing tune right now!"
For a while they stared at him as if they feared he had lost his mind. Professor Anderson, who was standing close to Verger whispered, "Do you really mean that, Captain?"
"Certainly I mean it!" The pilot yelled. "Since you are in charge of the band, will you please see to it that my orders are carried out?"