Kill? Wait—give me the thought again....
Something inside Lundy turned cold and still, holding its breath. He sent the thought again. Death. Cessation. Silence, and the dark.
The tiny glowing figure on the black stone bent over its knees again, and it was sadder than a seabird's cry at sunset.
So will I be soon. So will all of us. Why did this planet take us out of space? The weight, the pressure breaks and crushes us, and we can't get free. In space there was no death, but now we die....
Lundy stood quite still. The blood beat like drums in his temples.
"You mean that all you creatures out of space are dying? That the—the madness will stop of itself?"
Soon. Very soon. There was no death in space! There was no pain! We didn't know about them. Everything here was new, to be tasted and played with. We didn't know....
"Hell!" said Lundy, and looked at the creatures beating at the crack of the stone door. He sat down.
You, too, will die.