“But he is so friendly.”
“All beasts are friendly here, my Alan. What—would Maquer have hurt you on your Earth?”
And Alan laughingly told of his fright at the lion. He had learnt one more truth about Keemar—there were no savage animals upon it. Of a truth, it was a perfect land!
Waz-Y-Kjesta was highly amused at his friend’s story, and together they went toward the air birds. The Keemarnian airships were indeed wonderful creations. White and gold, they were shaped like swans, with graceful wings outspread, gleaming in the light. They were made of a mixture of wood and metal, and contained accommodation for perhaps forty passengers, as well as the Waz in command, and a staff of ten. Although not as big as the ill-fated Argenta, the Keemarnian airship was possessed of a speed nearly thrice as great.
“This is the Chlorie,” said Y-Kjesta, “and our fastest bird. The Jkak has given orders that you are to choose your own vessel, so perhaps you would like to see over some others?”
“No,” said Alan, looking at the blue hangings, and seeing in them the reflection of his love’s eyes. “No, this one will do beautifully.” And the Waz was impressed by the easy way in which his friend was pleased. He little realized that it was the name of the vessel—the Chlorie—that attracted him. And in the strangeness of it Alan tried to read his fate.
“We’ll go for a short cruise,” said the Waz, “and go back to the landing stage Minniviar.”
There was not a cloud in the sky, and the warmth from the sun’s rays was pleasant.
“I can’t understand how you benefit so considerably from the sun, your Kymo,” said Alan. “Let me see, you must be at least five times further away from the sun than we were on our earth, yet instead of your light and heat being reduced to about one twenty-fifth of our supply, you appear to benefit to exactly the same degree.”
“Ah, my friend, that is easy to explain. Dark clouds hover outside our globe—”