Klon wanted that shadow, wanted that thing that was brighter than anything he had ever seen—and his purpose was to gain it in any way possible. For possession of that light shadow would make him greater than anyone else on the planet. Mightier even than Valok.
Klon knew that his time was growing short; the nation would declare their new leader within a very short while, and he knew that possession of that light shadow was the one thing that would assure him of victory over his rival for leadership.
His gills opened and closed automatically, involuntary muscles working even when his lungs worked on the damp air. He winced a bit from the lightness of the shadow, for never had his eye seen one that was so without blackness.
And then Klon was at the roundness of the thing, the touch of its coolness sending a thrill of dread through his heart. He moved slowly until he was just below the circle of lightness, then climbed upwards with his sucker-discs.
Slowly, carefully, instantly ready for flight to safety, he lifted his head until his eye was pressed against the light shadow. He felt tiny pains running through his eye, back into his head, and down into his body, but he gave it no heed.
For he was seeing something that none other of his race had had the courage to face. He saw things but dimly, and the hideousness of the scene almost made him lose his hold.
For nightmarish creatures moved within the gleaming thing, moving on stiff tentacles, gesturing with others, while above, on a thin neck, fanged mouths opened and closed in sickening motions. And the shadows of their skins were of shades of lightness and darkness that were terrifying to Klon's senses that had never met the like before.
He gasped audibly, swung back from the circle of lightness, shaking with horror at what he had seen.
Inside the gleaming space ship, three men were seated on the collapsible bunks. Kurt Overland, his muscular body unclad except for shorts, was speaking in his even tone.