Almost angrily Ray shook the bars. "Can't you talk," he growled. There was an uneasy movement, but no answer. "Speak up, you dumbbells!" He grew impatient under the silent stares.
Impatient with himself for trying to make them talk, as if that would solve anything! Yet, they seemed so intelligent. They were clothed, they had some sort of local government. Surely they must be able to communicate. But they only stared!
He had a fleeting impression as if they were sorry for him.
He wondered suddenly if they were telepathic. He concentrated on the idea, but no inkling came. Only blankness. They were just animals. They had to be.
Abruptly he left the hold and climbed to the upper deck. In the corridor Williams stopped him.
"I hear we're still headed for Earth, Sir." The man's dark face held a worried look.
"Yes." Ray waited, but the other only shuffled his feet in uncomfortable silence, so he turned toward the girl's cabin.
Ellenor would know the answer.
"Are those Mutes telepathic?" he demanded almost savagely of her. The whole idea was unwelcome. In fact, his interest in the Mutes was like a foolish obsession!
"No." She stared at him a long while. "They know how people feel," she said at last. "They know how everything feels—animals, plants, and even the soil."