A moment later a thing of metal and fabric, fitted with drills and delicate thread-like tentacles, and formed like a giant Sadu moth of Mars, darted out from behind a curtain where it had been hiding. It flew up through the air-tube which had been its means of entrance to the room. On the roof it met a black nightmare, and by means of signs traced in the air with an intelligence that was paradoxically human, it directed the monster to Shelby's apartment below.
The first sensation which bore itself in upon Shelby's consciousness when he was regaining his senses was a terrific throbbing pain in his head. He opened his rheum-plastered eyelids and looked about him. He was lying in a bunk within a small dim-lit compartment. Polished duralumin walls gleamed all about. At the center of his prison was a table, and beyond, built into the opposite wall, was another bunk. There was a black blob of something sprawling on the mattress, but he could not see clearly what it was. The illumination globe in the ceiling was not burning, and only a faint glow filtered through the curtained, circular window. A muffled purring vibration told Shelby that he was aboard a speeding space ship.
Aroused evidently by the stirring of its charge, the thing in the opposite berth arose and strode leisurely toward the Earthian. The metal of its harness tinkled, and sharp points of light flashed against its ebony body, like gems sewn into a sable curtain that is being swayed by a vagrant draft of air.
The Earthman recognized the creature immediately as his recent pursuer. It had pressed the light switch now, and the illumination globe glowed softly. Then the thing bent over Shelby, and with a gentleness that was surprising, it rolled him over and examined his bandaged wound briefly.
The young man conquered his revulsion sufficiently to look up into the monster's face. He thought that it was odd that the sight of it did not terrify him. No, really it was not more hideous than the visages of insects he had seen through a microscope. He studied the hard chitinous visors that blinked over the monster's eyes—the hollow where its nose should have been; and he searched for some hint that there was a human personality within that knotted carcass but found none. The lipless mouth and the blankly staring eyes were without any expression that he could interpret.
Two things struck Shelby as being peculiar—the fact that the monster did not seem to breathe, and the icy coldness of its hands.
The thing walked to the door, unlocked it, and left the room. The engineer heard a grating of the key being turned when the door had been shut.
Taking advantage of the opportunity to move about without being observed, he jumped out of bed and hurried to the window. It was then that he noticed that there was a metal band about his right ankle. A long light chain led from it to an eyelet in the wall. Truly he was a prisoner!
A single glance through the porthole confirmed what he had known was true—the black sky and the unwinking stars of space.