"It'll be back," Clyde Ellery said, and there was confidence in his voice. The strength of words had been redeemed. "It has gone to other communities like this one—all over the world. But it will return—it and other ships like it."
He paused, but there were no questions. The hope that was within him found no new ground. They were aware of no questions that had not been answered by the bursting flame and mushrooming smoke he had helped to make. They expected no answers, yet they respected that which they saw in his face.
"The ship was empty," Clyde Ellery said after a while, "but there was a recording which told me everything. There is to be another chance for Man—for those of us who are not yet radioactive."
They waited patiently, these men and women who had looked too long upon death to recognize life.
"The ship is from Venus—built by what, I don't know. Speech, as we know it, must be unknown, for the recording we all heard, and those that were played for me, were pieced together from words recorded here on Earth. Almost every word was spoken by a different voice. They must have recorded many conversations here, then picked out the needed words and made up their message on new records. It indicates no spoken language, perhaps no vocal cords, but a high degree of intelligence."
He was the only one interested in the high degree of intelligence.
"The ships are apparently remote-controlled," he said, and it was easy to see that he was dreaming of the science that had made such ships possible. "I suspect the ships are magnetic-powered for the record said that the trip to Venus can be made very quickly—a matter of hours." He realized then that among his listeners there was not one who cared how the ship was powered. He said bluntly, "All the people of Earth who are still healthy are invited to go to Venus. One half of the entire planet will be given to us. We must take with us our own animals and our own plant seeds, those that are also healthy. They will provide as many ships as are necessary.
"The ships are somehow built to detect the healthy and the unhealthy. It will be impossible for a person, an animal, or for any seed, to pass within the ship unless it is healthy. There will be no chance for the sickness to take root in the new colony."
They had come to accept death for all, and there was only fear at the thought that some of them might live. They stared stolidly at a point just above Clyde Ellery's head.
"The climate and the atmosphere on Venus are pretty much the same as here," Clyde Ellery continued. "There is more precipitation—more rain, but not too much. The soil is rich, and will not need fertilizers for years. One half of the planet—the half towards Earth—will be ours to cultivate and govern as we please. We may take as many personal possessions with us as we wish, as long as they are free from radioactivity. There—there is—" his voice faltered, then went on—"one other requirement in accepting their help. We cannot take any equipment or literature necessary to the making of weapons of war, including atomic bombs, and the record said that any attempt to make destructive weapons on Venus will bring death to those doing it. Other than that, there will be no interference. The ships will be here within a week."