Loetta sighed. She turned her head.
Captain Hawes turned his head also. Trailing from the ship, hanging like a chain of daisies, was a whole string of Loettas. One hung onto the wing, while the one below her clasped her ankles.
"Gosh!" Captain Hawes said. "I didn't realize I had been thinking of you all the time."
"Don't worry," said Loetta.
As she spoke a green cloud flashed out of the heavens and calmly began eating her sisters.
Captain Hawes put his ship into a dive toward the earth.
[1] Philosophers have pointed out emphatically—and it is hardly necessary for me to repeat it—that man can know the world only "second hand." Man's consciousness perceives nothing directly, but through the medium of the senses. The translations of our sensory impulses in the brain could easily be—and often are—distorted. Artificial stimuli can affect the senses so that things can be perceived that do not actually exist. Like the blind men and the elephant, man is limited in his perceptions to what he can perceive, and therefore what we know may only be a small parcel of our surroundings. The stripping of Hawes and Duerkes of their senses and the placing of their consciousness in direct contact with the world allowed them to see things ordinary men do not behold—R. R. W.