“No use talking at him,” advised Speedy. “You’ve got to touch him, like I told you.”
“I know, I know.” Graypate betrayed a slight impatience. “All in good time. I’ll touch him when I’m ready.” He stood there, gazing at Pander with eyes that were very pale and very sharp. “Oh, well, here goes.” He offered a hand.
Fander placed a tentacle-end in it.
“Jeepers, he’s cold,” commented Graypate, closing his grip. “Colder than a snake.”
“He isn’t a snake,” Speedy contradicted fiercely.
“Ease up, ease up—I didn’t say he is.” Graypate seemed fond of repetitive phrases.
“He doesn’t feel like one, either,” persisted Speedy, who had never felt a snake and did not wish to.
Fander boosted a thought through. “I come from the fourth planet. Do you know what that means?”
“I ain’t ignorant,” snapped Graypate aloud.
“No need to reply vocally. I receive your thoughts exactly as you receive mine. Your responses are much stronger than the boy’s, and I can understand you easily.”