"Make yourselves at ease," Donli said, "while I summon Mari. She will probably be at the laboratories now."
"Mari," Driscoll said, when Donli had gone. "So their leader is a woman! And they have laboratories!"
They gazed about them. The curious daylight came through windows of glass or similar material. There were chairs and tables of finely-wrought metal. Along one wall were bookcases filled with charts and uniquely-bound volumes. There were other volumes too, which seemed vaguely familiar.
Brownell walked over there.
"Look at this! A whole case full of books from Earth—scientific, technical books, all of them!" He read a few of the titles on the faded bindings. "These were all popular hundreds of years ago. And these others," he waved, "are probably the entire recorded history of these people. I'd give anything to look into them." He didn't touch the volumes, but remained thoughtful.
Mark too was thoughtful. "Frell," he mused. "A strange name for this city. Seems as though it ought to mean something, but I can't quite place it."
Donli returned soon, accompanied by Mari. She was tall, lithesome, her features classical and still beautiful despite smudges of sweat and grime from the laboratory. Her golden hair was braided into a halo which gave a queenly appearance, and her eyes were bluer than the strange daylight of this world. Skirt and tight-fitting bodice were of rough texture but dyed a rich golden color.
Involuntarily the men gasped, but Mari did not mind that or their stares. She seated herself and bade them be seated opposite her. Then she leaned forward, searching their faces. Not until then did they notice that her eyes were cold, suspicious.
"You have come from Earth, of course. And Donli tells me this strange one is Martian. Who is leader among you?"