It was on the fiftieth day after the sphere’s arrival that something finally happened. It started with a small bulge, which gradually expanded until it was a ten-meter miniature connected to the parent sphere by a narrow neck of glistening material. It remained that way for a few hours, during which men in their service pods gathered to watch this monstrous birth.
Suddenly the smaller sphere separated, wobbled, and began to descend toward the Earth.
When Gail and Degruton arrived at the Cape, the smaller sphere was already on the ground amid a ring of apprehensive dignitaries, scientists, and technical people.
“At least they had the sense not to use the military,” Gail muttered as she and her companion were ushered through the crowd to where Douglas Gruinne of the World Space Organization stood with Alexander Duvenov of the Physics Foundation. Duvenov, a small intense man whose genius as an administrator overshadowed his previous career in cosmology, glowered at Degruton, “It’s about time. If that thing starts popping at us, I want to be damn sure Frederick Degruton is in the line of fire!”
Degruton blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“Come on man, it didn’t come from the stars—we have enough detects scattered around the system to spot anything incoming half a light-year out! The monster, that—that—” Duvenov almost spluttered as he gesticulated at the gleaming ball which had touched down so delicately it had not even bent a blade of grass,
Degruton felt Gail’s hand grope for his. The warmth of the contact steadied him. “You figured it out, did you?” “That someone might follow you back across the partitions to Prime?” Gruinne shook his gray, shaggy head. “No, not really. Only when Big Mother popped into existence, did we suspect Shift dispersion might have something to do with it.”
Degruton wanted to feel triumphant, instead felt an intense sadness.
It had happened.
Finally.
He doubted the visitors (presuming there was more than one) intended evil, or if they intended anything at all other than to satisfy their equivalent of curiosity. And he doubted they would be gone soon. Eons more evolved than humanity, they would not be bound by the tyranny of time. For them Earth was a zoo, with mankind the main exhibit. As far as man himself was concerned, the pride which had pointed him toward the stars would inevitably wither to dull acceptance of his subservience in the Universe.
Duvenov and Gruinne had obviously figured out part of the answer. But if they knew the whole story—
There was a concerted gasp from the crowd as the side of the sphere rippled and a being stepped out into the sunlight.
The being was neither beautiful or horrible.
It was simply—different.
Definitely humanoid, a little more than two meters tall, with a graceful body topped by a slender head with large golden eyes, the being walked directly to Degruton. At first the scientist thought it was naked, until he realized the silver-gray skin was a tight, form-fitting covering which left only the face exposed. Dominated by those golden eyes, the face had twin nostril slits, a thin lipless mouth and no chin. There was a faint rough texture to the greenish skin; perhaps all that remained of its dinosaur ancestry.
“You are Degruton.” The voice was contralto, without accent and no inflection.
“Yes,” Degruton replied. Gail’s hand tightened on his.
“You expected us.”
Degruton glanced at the nearby gantry from which his and Gail’s shuttle had departed to rendezvous with the
“I—” He swallowed, “—think so.” “That is good. The circle is complete.”
“I do not—”
“Who created the conditions for what, small one? It is debatable. However we know what you did, and are grateful. Nevertheless there are alternates, and there are alternates within alternates. When we investigated the past history of our planet and determined the near miss of the asteroid, we wondered what the outcome would have been if the asteroid had indeed impacted. So we effected a minor readjustment.”
It was too much.
Frederick Degruton and Gail Sovergarde exploded into hysterical laughter.
