Hours later V'Naric came in, bringing them a pasty kind of food that didn't taste too bad. Apparently nonchalant, but very watchful, he stood just inside the door while they ate.
Devries watched him in turn. Already he had learned much just by observing V'Naric's eyes, apparently the Proktols' only medium of emotion. Black—as his were now—meant calm, orange meant anger, and green meant amusement.
When they had finished eating, V'Naric started to leave without a word. Devries stopped him.
"Would you mind telling us, now, where you're taking us and why?" he asked, careful not to lose his temper again. He figured it would do no harm, and might do infinite good, to learn as much as possible.
V'Naric hesitated, surveying him musingly. Then he answered indirectly: "Have you Earthmen ever heard of the sacred temple of Dhovril, or of the Shining Stone?"
No, the Earthmen had never heard of either. "Dhovril," Devries repeated, "that is your planet?"
"Yes."
"And this Shining Stone?"
V'Naric's eyes became green-tinged, and Devries wondered why. "The Shining Stone is merely a colorful meteoric fragment. Many years ago it came flashing through space and landed on Dhovril. The inhabitants there are semi-savage, and worship it, believing it a present from the gods. Of course to such as we"—he apparently meant himself and his companions—"the Shining Stone means nothing, but the others are roused to a fanatical fury when it is touched. And when it is stolen...."
"So you think we stole it!" Janus said. "We never set foot on your planet!"