“I can’t discover what this-Vanamonde-is,” he continued. “It’s a creature of tremendous knowledge, but it seems to have very little intelligence. Of course,” he added, “Its mind may be of such a different order that we can’t understand it-yet somehow I don’t believe that is the right explanation.”
“Well, what have you learned?” asked Alvin with some impatience. “Does it know anything about this place?”
Theon’s mind still seemed very far away.
“This city was built by many races, including our own,” he said absently. “It can give me facts like that, but it doesn’t seem to understand their meaning. I believe it’s conscious of the past, without being able to interpret it. Everything that’s ever happened seems jumbled together in its mind.”
He paused thoughtfully for a moment: then his face lightened.
“There’s only one thing to do: somehow or other, we must get Vanamonde to Earth so that our philosophers can study him.”
“Would that be safe?” asked Alvin.
“Yes,” answered Theon, thinking how uncharacteristic his friend’s remark was. “Vanamonde is friendly. More than that, in fact-he seems almost affectionate.”
And quite suddenly the thought that all the while had been hovering at the edge of Alvin’s consciousness came clearly into view. He remembered Krif and the small animals that were constantly escaping (“It won’t happen again, Mother”) to annoy Seranis. And he recalled-how long ago that seemed! — the zoological purpose behind their expedition to Shalmirane.
Theon had found a new pet.