It gazed at him with half closed, calculating eyes, starting at the head, running slowly to his feet and back again.
"You look human," it muttered.
"Naturally," Tensor replied cheerfully. The appreciation was growing subtly now, and he found that the creature's mouth interested him. It was a strikingly lovely shade of red—always Tensor's favorite color. And although there was a heavy and awkward sheath of artificial fabric about the alien, he observed with a rising fascination that the bulging of the thoracic sheathing indicated that it was female.
Tensor became uncomfortably aware that he had better be careful of his induced somatic sympathy.
After a moment of speculative silence, he said, "You haven't told me what you savages consider yourselves."
"Don't call me a savage, you naked beast," she snapped back.
"I beg your pardon," he murmured politely. "Merely a semantic difficulty. I'm sure. I assume that you consider yourselves human beings, then. Where do you come from?"
"Earth—the third planet."
"I see. And you used mechanical devices such as this little metal egg to get here. Most curious." Tensor contemplated the thought with great interest, for obviously they used mechanical skill to compensate for lack of direct control. An exceedingly poor substitute, of course; but it explained everything he wanted to know.
"Are there many of you natives?" she asked him cautiously.