"You must come forward," said the voice.
I took another step, then another, then came to a startled halt.
As if materializing out of the air, the Martian was before me. I stared at him, stupified.
"What's the matter, Jery? What is it?" Snow said. Then she looked where I was looking, giving a little scream.
"It's all right, honey," I said, with hollow courage. "He's a little impressionistic, but—"
"He?" she cried, clinging to me. "That—that thing?"
I looked at her, mystified, then back at the sort-of man I was standing before. He made my head spin a bit, what with apparently seeing him from front view and both profiles simultaneously, but he was mannish looking.
"This guy, the Martian, honey," I said. "Maybe you didn't take enough steps forward."
"She cannot see me as you see me, Jery Delvin," said the Martian. "Her eyes only convey to her a fantastic whirl of hideous light and dark shapes. She, along with most others of your race, cannot apprehend my form as you can. This is why you were chosen, Jery Delvin."
"That's crazy," I protested. "You're there, aren't you? You reflect light into the eyes, right? Why can't she see you?"