Pain, and seeing two bright objects transiting the darkness at which he looked; seeing something then between.
His brain began identifying. The darkness; sky. The bright objects; Diemos, Phobos.... And the something between—
It was a transparency of some sort; curved, or he would not have been able to detect it at all. A vaulted ceiling through which he could see....
His full consciousness came flooding back, then. He tried the muscles in his neck, they hurt, but they worked, and he could move his head from side to side. There was the same transparency, as though he were covered by some huge, invisible bowl.
And there were men. Big, muscular creatures, yet thin, tall.... Not like the others at all....
He sat bolt upright, and they did not move. It was not the same as before. No small room. No voice that he could not see. They had not even removed his suit or his helmet, and he was lying on a hard, cold substance.
Then he saw what they were doing. There were two of them apart from the others, working to bring a compact-looking machine into position near him. A gleaming, short cylinder, swung on gymbals between slender forks, mounted on a thin wheeled standard. They were aiming it at him.
"No! No—" He tried to get to his knees, but it was as though there were no muscles in his body.
"Man of—Earth! We are friendly. Is that understood?"