Steve and Myra turned around at the sound of the voice and automatically stepped back into the room. It wasn't until a few seconds later that they realized what had happened. Someone here, light years away from Earth, had spoken to them in their own language! They looked at each other with amazement, then looked around for the speaker.
"I'm over here," the voice said, "to your right."
In that dimly-lit part of the room they made out the figure of an old man sitting in a high-backed chair, his hands stretched out on its arms.
"Please come in," he said.
Slowly they went over to him. He was a very old man, his face and hands deeply wrinkled, with white hair brushed neatly away from his intelligent forehead. There was a curious immobility about him that half-frightened them, but his eyes were kindly.
Steve and Myra sat down. There was silence for a minute. Then:
"I am very wise," the old man said abruptly.
Unable to help himself, Steve chuckled. Myra looked at him reprovingly.
"You mustn't laugh at me," said the old man. "I know much. What I say is true. You must remember that. And if you will be patient and humor me, I will tell you where you are, and how you came to be."
"You mean how we came to be here," corrected Steve.