But no sound came out of my mouth. I had a mouth, in a way, but not for talking; and not at all the sort of mouth I used to have. In fact, the shimmering blue haze was me. I could find no other parts of me. And when the little round things touched me on the periphery, there was an intelligent vibration.
"Frequency and tone?" said the vibration. "Please identify."
"You must take me as you find me," I thought.
"Unidentified frequencies and discordant tones requested not to wander in spaceways," vibrated the little round things.
"I'm a man," I vibrated back. "We don't have frequencies. We use frequencies in radio, television, radar and so on."
"Not intelligible."
"Where's my ship?"
"Ship?"
I tried to picture the Lighttrick and the long thin gleam on her hull, the fury of her rockets and the calm ordered keyboard of the control panels.
"Most interesting," vibrated the round things. "Poetic. Very creative. Speculative philosopher, yes?"