"The others are dying," said Mjly, blinking her otic nerves eerily. "We soon will be the only ones left."
It was indeed a senseless thing to do, to die just because there was no means of going on living. But I must admit that I was tempted for a moment. But I hung onto myself, for there was Mjly, and as long as she lived, there was a reason for me to live too.
"It's not a cheerful prospect," I said, "but I suppose death by starvation is the best way out. We will face death as we have lived, cheerfully and fortuitously."
"And why should we die, when there is another world so close?" she asked.
"Are you suggesting interplanetary flight, my dear?" I was amused again, even though there was little enough left to be amused at.
She crinkled her sense of smell in reply, and I realized I was not being amused at the right time. Anchoring herself by magnetic processes, she began to weave the atmosphere delicately with her taste-bud tendrils. Quickly she hollowed the air molecules into a reflective mirror, and brought it to focus on our neighboring world. I levitated myself into a position so that I could look into the mirror.
The near planet was quite satisfactory. It was the one you know as the earth. It was young. It was green. Huge fern-like plants grew abundantly on its surface. It was full of food. And near.
"The trip could be made by levitation," Mjly said.
I hung back. "Animals might live there. We'd be devoured."
"I am not afraid," she said.