A house, fallen from the sky? The green lights poured out of its crumpled part, and a strange bubbling and hissing filled the air.
Koroby stopped short, clasping her hands and involuntarily uttering a squeal of joyful excitement, for between her and the blaze, his eyes on the destruction, stood a man.....
He was very tall, and his shoulders were very wide. Oh, but he looked like a man, and stood like one—even though his hands were folded behind his back and he was probably dejected. A man in a house from the sky—
Koroby hastily grasped a corner of her gown, moistened it with saliva, and scrubbed her face. She rearranged her hair, and stepped forward.
"Don't go there—it's magic—he'll cast a spell—!" one of the bearers whispered urgently, reaching after her, but Koroby pushed him away. The litter-carriers watched the girl go, unconsciously huddling together as if feeling the need for combined strength. They withdrew into the jungle's shadows, and waited there anxiously, ready at any moment to run away.
But Koroby, with supreme confidence, walked toward the stranger, her lovely body graceful as a cat's, her face radiant. The man did not hear her. She halted behind him, waited silent, expectant, excited—but he did not turn. The green fire sputtered upward. At last the girl stepped to the man's side and gently touched him again. He turned, and her heart faltered: she swayed with bliss.
He was probably a god. Not even handsome Yasak looked like this. Here was a face so finely-chiseled, so perfectly proportioned, that it was almost frightening, unhuman, mechanical. It was unlined and without expression, somehow unreal. Mysterious, compelling.
He was clothed very peculiarly. A wonderfully-made metallic garment enclosed his whole body—legs and all, unlike the Venus-men's tunics. Even his feet were covered. Perhaps it was armor—though the Venus-men usually wore only breastplate and greaves. And a helmet hid all of the man's head except his face. Around his waist was a belt with many incomprehensible objects dangling from it. If he was so well armored, why was he not carrying a sword—a dagger at least! Of what use were those things on his belt—for instance, that notched L-shaped thing? It would not even make a decent club!
The stranger did not speak, merely gazed deeply into Koroby's eyes. And she, returning the gaze, wondered if he was peering into her very soul. The words of a folk-ballad came to her:
"—He'll smile and touch my cheek,