'Hey,' he said again, sounding startled but now-astonishingly-almost pleased. 'There's a Frenchman talking to me. He's saying-no, just wait a minute, I'll translate for you when he's done.'
'I speak French,' Rosaleen said eagerly-only the first to make the claim; she was quickly followed by all three Pats and both other men.
Jimmy waved impatiently for silence. 'He isn't speaking French. He's speaking Chinese. Shut up so I can hear.'
'Chinese!' Martin muttered angrily, as the two Docs left as wordlessly as they had come in. One of the Pats- Pat thought it was Patrice-complained:
'That is so inconsiderate!' Both of them were echoing Pat's own thoughts. Chinese, for God's sake! Dopey was showing even worse judgment than usual. But there was nothing to do about it but wait until Jimmy Lin was willing to talk to them.
Evidently the Frenchman's message was short. After a moment Jimmy took the helmet off and gazed at them. 'Well,' he said, 'that was interesting. It didn't actually tell much, but- hey!' Martin had grabbed the helmet from him. Jimmy reached to take it back, but Martin fended him off and settled the thing on his own head. 'Now, what's the use of doing that?' Jimmy demanded pettishly. 'You aren't going to understand Chinese, Martin.'
Martin said triumphantly, 'He isn't speaking Chinese! He's speaking Spanish.'
'But that's impossible,' Jimmy protested. 'He was speaking quite excellent PRC Chinese, with a well-educated accent, though there was a trace of the Beijing tones-'
'Be quiet!' Martin thundered. 'I can't hear while you're making all that racket! Also, I know who this man is. I will tell you all about it if you will simply let me listen.'
Looking petulant, Jimmy Lin did as ordered, but the others didn't. Under the dark eye-patches of the helmet Martin was scowling at the noise, but he said nothing more until it was over. Then he took the helmet off and held it in his hand for a moment.
'The man speaking, he is Hugues duValier. He's a navigator with Eurospace; I met him once at Kourou. What he is saying is a communication meant for everybody in the world. It sounds as though they finally got their own Starlab mission off.'
'What did he say?' Dannerman demanded.
Martin shook his head. 'Try it for yourself. Since he is so unexpectedly versatile, I am curious to see if perhaps this time he will speak in some language you can understand.'
'Hey!' Pat cried as Martin handed the helmet to Dannerman. 'What happened to alphabetical order? Who said all the men go first?'
'What happened to women's rights?' Patrice chimed in, and Patsy added:
'Oink, oink, you sexist pigs.'
But Rosaleen said, 'It's faster if we don't argue. Let him go; we'll all get a turn.' And Dannerman placed the helmet on his head.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Dan
Dannerman settled the thing on his head as rapidly as he could; he wanted to see this linguistic marvel, wanted even more to find out just what the Frenchman had to say. The helmet didn't fit particularly well and it was heavy. The goggles-opaque eye-shields, actually-dug into his flesh over the cheekbones, but they did their job. He could see nothing but blackness, could hear the sounds from his companions only faintly through the thickness of the helmet.
Then the blackness dissolved. Dannerman was looking at a man dressed in an astronaut's EVA spacesuit, helmet tucked under one arm, and the man was looking directly back at him. It didn't look like a broadcast. It seemed that the man was standing before him, solid in three dimensions, seeming almost near enough to touch. When the man spoke he sounded as though the conversation was one-on-one. He said:
'Hello, ladies and gentlemen. You may recognize me. I am Colonel Hugues duValier, and I am speaking to you from the astronomical observatory called Starlab. I am not alone here. I am in the company of a person who has a message of great importance for everyone on Earth. I cannot show him to you at this time. However, he is a friend, and he has given me the responsibility-and the privilege-of delivering his message to you.
'You will remember that some time ago these two broadcasts of alien origin were received all over the world.' A screen appeared beside the figure, displaying the two old space messages one after another. 'Some people thought these were some sort of a joke. Others came closer to the truth, imagining that they were warnings of an extraterrestrial invasion. That is both true and false. There is a threat of invasion by evil people, that is true. What is false is that the evil ones are not the ones shown in the messages. The evil ones-the people who are even now planning to attack our planet and do us all great harm-are the ones who sent those first false messages in order to deceive you. These brutal creatures are called by a name which is difficult for me to say; it sounds like the 'Horch.' They possess a very high technology, particularly in weaponry. They have fought many wars, over long ages of time, and in them they have succeeded in destroying many other civilizations in other solar systems. Only a few races have been able to defend themselves against the Horch. Some of them are the people whose pictures the Horch sent to you-pretending they were enemies-but they are in fact the ones who can help you defend yourself against these attackers. Their name is even more difficult to pronounce; my friends here call them 'Beloved Leaders.' You already know what they look like, from the deceitful transmissions the Horch sent. What I will show you now is a picture of a Horch.'
The image of the astronaut flicked out of sight and another being appeared. It didn't look like a picture. To Dannerman the creature looked as though it were actually standing there, no more than a yard or so away from him. It was taller than Dannerman himself, and gazing threateningly at him. It was certainly not from the gallery that had already been displayed, though equally ugly. Stocky body, wearing metallic armor. Long lizard head on a long and supple neck, with a lipless mouth filled with sharp teeth. Instead of arms it had two boneless limbs, like an elephant's trunk, fraying into half a dozen digits at the ends. In one 'hand' it carried an axe, in the other a spiked club. It was, in fact, the very model of the kind of alien invader you would never want to see appearing out of your skies.
The image shrank to a picture inset on the screen and the colonel appeared again, looking grave. 'I have been shown the evidence, which is indisputable, and so I now know what terrible things the Horch can do,' he said somberly. 'They will do such things to us, too, if we let them, and we have no defenses of our own that could withstand them. Still, we have been offered strong allies. With the help of the Beloved Leaders-as these friends are called-we can defend ourselves.
'Without them we are doomed.
'That is all I can say now. In twenty-four hours I will speak to you again, and then I will give you more details about the choices before us. Until then… please. Be warned.'
The picture went to black. The message was over.
Thoughtfully Dannerman removed the helmet. 'He spoke to me in English,' he announced. 'Rosie? Why don't you take a shot and see what he does for you?'
'Thanks a lot, Dan,' Pat said with annoyance.
He shook his head. 'You'll get your turn. Wait till we've all seen it.' He settled himself on the floor and waited, staring into space.
Then Patsy, last to have her turn, took the helmet off and shakily, 'Wow. That was an ugly one, all right.'
Dannerman had been thinking. He said, 'Something strikes me as peculiar. The astronaut spoke to me in English; was it the same for you Pats? Yes, I thought so. Rosaleen?'
'Why, yes. He spoke in Ukrainian. With a few Russian words, actually, but his accent was good. Why do you say that's peculiar? Clearly this is an announcement transmitted to everyone on Earth, like the others; naturally they would want it to be in languages everyone can understand.'
'That's not the peculiar part. Did you see duValier's lips move?'
'His lips?' She looked puzzled, but Jimmy Lin was quicker.
