"Wait, all of you," Captain Torkel commanded them. To the Sirian he said, "We know that Earthmen haven't been here before. How do you speak our language?"
The young man's smile broadened. "Your mind is a fire sending out warmth to us. Within the warmth I see sounds you use to make words."
"Telepathy," said Captain Torkel.
"Yes," the Sirian agreed. "And I see that your people are troubled. They fear a strange thing—a coming of heat and light. Your world is soon to be destroyed, yes?"
Suddenly the captain was afraid. The fear came to him in an invisible cloud, settling over him, seeping into his flesh and chilling his bones. He tried to believe that it was the senseless fear of a child whose imagination has peopled the dark corners of his room with nameless monsters. He tried to crush the fear, but it clung to him in fog-cold intensity.
The Sirian nodded understandingly. "You must not worry now about the coming of the great heat. You are tired. You must come with us to our village. You must see how we live."
The captain's legs were weak. He wanted to flee; he wanted to escape from the Sirian's omnipresent smile and his round-eyed piercing gaze.
Van Gundy whispered to him, very softly, "Did you bring weapons, Captain? Should we go without weapons?"
"I—I forgot about weapons," he whispered back, his face reddening.