“Good idea,” echoed the reporter. “I’d like to see what some of these oafs look like.”
“Not likely to be any of them strolling around in the desert at night,” said Robert.
“Can’t tell; I’ll bet they didn’t fail to see the Sphere when we slid over here. We’re likely to have an army down on us tonight.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” said Professor Palmer. “The Martians are obviously a people of much intelligence. I expect they will act just about as our own people would, should some curious machine land upon the Earth. They will probably wait till daylight, then come out and satisfy their curiosity.”
“And ours,” added Robert, remembering his dream.
As they stepped out upon the sand, buttoned into warm coats, a brilliant spectacle was presented to their gaze.
Low in the southeast Phobus hung like a glowing orange. Its now apparently smooth, bright disk was a decided contrast to the dark, threatening, cavernous face which had frightened them but a few hours earlier. All round them the indigo sky was studded with stars of the great brilliance that is reserved for travelers of the deserts. Behind them the comfortable flood of illumination from the Sphere spread its friendly radiance over the sand.
“Look over there!” cried Taggert suddenly, pointing toward the east.
Far away on the horizon’s edge a diffused white glow shone steadily.
“A city,” guessed Robert quickly.