Mind you, their theory had a rigidly mathematical development and it predicted just such a Galaxy as they describe. So you see, they have all the worlds they wish. They are not land-hungry. Certainly not for our land.”
“Reason would say so, if what you say is true. But creatures may be intelligent and not reasonable. Our forefathers were presumably intelligent, yet they were certainly not reasonable. Was it reasonable to destroy almost all their tremendous civilization in atomic warfare over causes our historians can no longer accurately determine?” The Industrialist brooded over it. “From the dropping of the first atom bomb over those islands—I forget the ancient name—there was only one end in sight, and in plain sight. Yet events were allowed to proceed to that end.”
He looked up, said briskly, “Well, where are we? I wonder if we are not on a fool’s errand after all.”
But the Astronomer was a little in advance and his voice came thickly. “No fool’s errand, sir. Look there.”
VI
Red and Slim had trailed their elders with the experience of youth, aided by the absorption and anxiety of their fathers. Their view of the final object of the search was somewhat obscured by the underbrush behind which they remained.
Red said, “Holy Smokes. Look at that. It’s all shiny silver or something.”
But it was Slim who was really excited. He caught at the other. “I know what this is. It’s a space-ship. That must be why my father came here. He’s one of the biggest astronomers in the world and your father would have to call him if a space-ship landed on his estate.”
“What are you talking about? Dad didn’t even know that thing was there. He only came here because I told him I heard the thunder from here. Besides, there isn’t any such thing as a space-ship.”
“Sure, there is. Look at it. See those round things. They are ports. And you can see the rocket tubes.”
“How do you know so much?”
Slim was flushed. He said, “I read about them. My father has books about them. Old books. From Beforethewars.”
“Huh. Now I know you’re making it up. Books from Beforethewars!”
“My father has to have them. He teaches at the University. It’s his job.”
His voice had risen and Red had to pull at him. “You want them to hear us?” he whispered indignantly.
“Well, it is, too, a space-ship.”
“Look here, Slim, you mean that’s a ship from another world.”
“It’s got to be. Look at my father going round and round it. He wouldn’t be so interested if it was anything else.”
“Other worlds! Where are there other worlds?”
“Everywhere. How about the planets? They’re worlds just like ours, some of them. And other stars probably have planets. There’s probably zillions of planets.”
Red felt outweighed and outnumbered. He muttered, “You’re crazy!”
“All right, then. I’ll show you.”
“Hey! Where are you going?”
“Down there. I’m going to ask my father. I suppose you’ll believe it if he tells you. I suppose you’ll believe a Professor of Astronomy knows what—”
He had scrambled upright.
Red said, “Hey. You don’t want them to see us. We’re not supposed to be here. Do you want them to start asking questions and find out about our animals?”
“I don’t care. You said I was crazy.”
“Snitcher! You promised you wouldn’t tell.”
“I’m not going to tell. But if they find out themselves, it’s your fault, for starting an argument and saying I was crazy.”
“I take it back, then,” grumbled Red.
“Well, all right. You better.”
In a way, Slim was disappointed. He wanted to see the space-ship at closer quarters. Still, he could not break his vow of secrecy even in spirit without at least the excuse of personal insult.
Red said, “It’s awfully small for a space-ship.”
“Sure, because it’s probably a scout-ship.”
“I’ll bet Dad couldn’t even get into the old thing.”
So much Slim realized to be true. It was a weak point in his argument and he made no answer. His interest was absorbed by the adults.
Red rose to his feet; an elaborate attitude of boredom all about him. “Well, I guess we better be going. There’s business to do and I can’t spend all day here looking at some old space-ship or whatever it is. We’ve got to take care of the animals if we’re going to be circus-folks. That’s the first rule with circus-folks. They’ve got to take care of the animals. And,” he finished virtuously, “that’s what I aim to do, anyway.”
Slim said, “What for, Red? They’ve got plenty of meat. Let’s watch.”
“There’s no fun in watching. Besides Dad and your father are going away and I guess it’s about lunch time.”
Red became argumentative. “Look, Slim, we can’t start acting suspicious or they’re going to start investigating. Holy Smokes, don’t you ever read any detective stories? When you’re trying to work a big deal without being caught, it’s practically the main thing to keep on acting just like always. Then they don’t suspect anything. That’s the first law—”
“Oh, all right.”
Slim rose resentfully. At the moment, the circus appeared to him a rather tawdry and shoddy substitute for the glories of astronomy, and he wondered how he had come to fall in with Red’s silly scheme.
Down the slope they went, Slim, as usual, in the rear.
VII
The Industrialist said, “It’s the workmanship that gets me. I never saw such construction.”
“What good is it now?” said the Astronomer, bitterly. “There’s nothing left. There’ll be no second landing. This ship detected life on our planet through accident. Other exploring parties would come no closer than necessary to establish the fact that there were no super-dense worlds existing in our solar system.”
“Well, there’s no quarreling with a crash landing.”
“The ship hardly seems damaged. If only some had survived, the ship might have been repaired.”
“If they had survived, there would be no trade in any case. They’re too different. Too disturbing. In any case—it’s over.”
They entered the house and the Industrialist greeted his wife calmly. “Lunch about ready, dear.”
“I’m afraid not. You see—” She looked hesitantly at the Astronomer.
“Is anything wrong?” asked the Industrialist. “Why not tell me? I’m sure our guest won’t mind a little family discussion.”
“Pray don’t pay any attention whatever to me,” muttered the Astronomer. He moved miserably to the other end of the living room.
The woman said, in low, hurried tones, “Really, dear, cook’s that upset. I’ve been soothing her for hours and honestly, I don’t know why Red should have done it.”
“Done what?” The Industrialist was more amused than otherwise. It had taken the united efforts of himself and his son months to argue his wife into using the name “Red” rather than the perfectly