One of the minor monstrosities that infested the place climbed the bedpost and perched upon it, wrapping its long tail about it many times. It chittered at West and West looked at it and shuddered, wondering if it were making a face at him or if it really looked that way.
These slithery, chittering things ... he'd heard of them somewhere before. He knew that. He'd even seen pictures of them at some time. Some other time and place, very long ago. Things like Annabelle and the creature Cartwright had dumped off the chair and the little satanic being that perched upon the bedstead.
That was funny, the thing Nevin had said about them ... they keep sneaking through ... not sneaking in, but through.
Nothing added up. Not even Nevin and Cartwright. For there was about them some subtle tinge of character not human in its texture.
They had been working with hormones when something had happened that occasioned the warning sent to Earth. Or had there been a warning? Had the warning been a fake? Was there something going on here the Solar government didn't want anyone to know?
Why had they sent Stella to Earth? Why were they so pleased that she was so well received? What was it Nevin had asked ... and the government, it does not suspect? Why should the government suspect? What was there for it to suspect? Just a mindless creature that sang like the bells of heaven.
That hormone business, now. Hormones did funny things to people.
I should know, said West, talking to himself.
A little faster and a little quicker. A mental shortcut here and there. And you scarcely know, yourself, that you are any different. That's how the race develops. A mutation here and another there and in a thousand years or two a certain percentage of the race is not what the race had been a thousand years before.
Maybe it was a mutation back in the Old Stone Age who struck two flints together and made himself a fire. Maybe another mutant who dreamed up a wheel and took a stoneboat and changed it to a wagon.