Captain Wiley studied the faces of his men. They were not faces of conquerors or of triumphant spacemen. They were the faces of dazed, frightened children who had caught a glimpse of Hell. He attempted, feebly, to smile.
"All right," he said loudly, "so it isn't like we expected. So no one came to meet us with brass bands and ten cent flags. We've still succeeded, haven't we? We've found life that's intelligent beyond our comprehension. What if our own civilization is insignificant by comparison? Look at those beings. Think of what we can learn from them. Why, their ships might have exceeded the speed of light. They might be from other galaxies!"
"Let's find out," said Parker.
They strode to the nearest ship, an immense, smooth, bluish sphere. Two creatures stood before it, shaped like men and yet twice the size of men. They wore white, skin-tight garments that revealed muscular bodies like those of gods.
They looked at Captain Wiley and smiled.
One of them pointed toward the Wanderer. Their smiles widened and then they laughed.
They laughed gently, understandingly, but they laughed.
And then they turned away.
"Talk to them," Parker urged.
"How?" Beads of perspiration shone on Captain Wiley's face.