He might have been entirely naked.
He was none of these—and at the very first moment of viewing him I felt a kinship toward him. Oh, he was primitive in appearance—but had my ancestors not been the same? Was this not a mirror of my own race a million years or so ago? I sensed that my own stream of life had somehow crossed with his in ages gone by. How? Who can ever know? By what faded charts of the movements through the sky will man ever be able to retrace relationships of forms of life among planets?
"Get ready to go out and meet him, Campbell," I said. "He's a friend."
Split Campbell gave me a look as if to say, Sir, you don't even know what sort of animal he is, actually, much less whether he's friendly or murderous.
"There are some things I can sense on first sight, Campbell. Take my word for it, he's a friend."
"I didn't say anything, sir."
"Good. Don't. Just get ready."
"We're going to go out—?"
"Yes," I said. "Orders."
"And meet both of them?" Split was at the telescope.