synchronize his approach run with any rotational motion of his target. Thus, the sensation of weight could only mean that the Ganymeans were employing some revolutionary technology to produce an artificial gravity effect. Intriguing.
The pilot spoke again to confirm this conclusion.
'Well, I guess I #146;m having one of my lucky days. We made it.' The slow Southern drawl was a godsend. 'Some of you people have probably noticed the gravity. Don #146;t ask me how they do it but it sure ain #146;t centrifugal. The outer hatch has closed and we #146;re reading a pressure buildup outside, so it looks like they #146;re turning on the air or whatever they use. I #146;ll tell you if you need helmets or not when we #146;ve done some tests. Won #146;t take more #146;n a minute. We still have contact with
The air was breathable #151;almost normal. Hunt had expected as much; the ship #146;s atmosphere would probably resemble that of Minerva, and terrestrial life had flourished there. The figures in the cabin stayed outwardly calm, but here and there fidgeting and last-minute fiddling with pieces of equipment betrayed the rising air of impatience and expectancy.
The honor of placing the first human foot on an alien spacecraft was to be Storrel #146;s. He rose from his seat near the rear of the cabin and waited for the inner door of the lock to swing aside; then he moved through into the chamber and peered through the transparent port of the outer door.
After a short wait he reported his findings to the rest of the party. 'A door is opening in the wall at the edge of the platform we #146;re on. There are guys standing inside it #151;the big guys. They #146;re coming out. . . one, two, three. . . five of them. Now they #146;re coming across . . .' Heads in the cabin turned instinctively toward the wall screen, but it was showing another part of the structure.
'Can #146;t get a scanner on them,' the pilot said, as if reading their thoughts. 'It #146;s a blind spot. You #146;re in command now, sir.' Storrel continued looking out of the port but said nothing further for a while. Then he turned back to face the cabin and took a deep breath.
'Okay, this is it. No change from plan; play it as briefed. Open her up, pilot.'
The outer door of the bus slid into its recess and a short metal stairway unfolded onto the platform. Storrel moved forward to stand framed in the entrance for a second, then disappeared slowly outside. The UNSA officer who was to be second, already waiting at the inner door, followed him while, farther back in the cabin, Hunt took his place in the slowly shuffling line.
Hunt #146;s impression as he emerged was one of a vastness of space that had not been apparent from inside the bus; it was like walking suddenly out of a side chapel and into the nave of a cathedral.
Not that he found himself surrounded by a large unused area #151;this was, after all, a spacecraft #151;but beyond the tail assembly of the
But these were just sensations that flitted across the background of Hunt #146;s perceptions. Before him, history was being made: the first face-to-face meeting between Man and an intelligent, alien species was taking place. Storrel and the two officers were standing slightly in front of the rest of the party, who had formed into a single rank; just a few feet away, facing Storrel, stood what appeared to be the leader of the Ganymean reception committee and, behind him, his four companions.
Their skins were light gray and appeared somewhat coarse compared to that of humans. All five displayed dense hair covering their heads and hanging to their shoulders though there was no hint of any facial growth. On three of them, including the leader, the hair was jet black; one of the others had gray, almost white, hair while the fifth #146;s was a very dark coppery hue, enhancing the subtle reddish tint of his complexion.
Their clothes were a mixture of colors and shared nothing in common except a basic style, which was that of a simple, loosefitting, shirtlike garment worn with plain trousers gathered into some kind of band at the ankle; there was certainly no suggestion of any sort of uniform. All were wearing glossy, thick-soled boots, again in various colors, and some had ornate belts around their waists. In addition, each sported a thin, gold headband supporting what looked like a disk-shaped jewel in the center of his forehead and wore a flat, silver box, at a distance not unlike a cigarette case, on a metallic wrist bracelet. There was nothing to distinguish the leader visually.
For a few momentous seconds the two groups faced each other in silence. In the doorway behind the Earthmen, the copilot of the bus was recording the scene for posterity, using a hand camera. Then the Ganymean leader moved forward a pace and made the same head-inclining gesture they had seen earlier on the screen in
Slowly and haltingly, the Ganymean leader spoke. 'I am Mel-thur. Good af-ter-noon.'
That simple statement would go down among history #146;s immortal moments. Later it became a standard joke, shared equally by Earthmen and Ganymeans alike. The voice was deep and gravelly, nothing like that of the interpreter who had spoken previously via the egg; in the latter case, the diction, and even the accent, had been flawless. Evidently this was not the interpreter; it made the fact that he had taken the trouble to offer an opening greeting in the native tongue of his guests an even nicer gesture.
Melthur went on to deliver a brief recitation in his own language while the visitors listened respectfully. Then it was Storrel #146;s turn. All the way over from
'Fellow travelers and neighbors, greetings from the people of Planet Earth. We come in peace and in a spirit of friendship to all beings. May this meeting prove to be the beginning of a long and lasting coexistence between our races, and from it may there grow a mutual understanding and an accord that will benefit both our kinds. Henceforth let Ganymeans and Earthmen together continue to expand that common frontier of knowledge that has brought them both away from their worlds and into this universal realm that belongs to all worlds.'
The Ganymeans in their turn showed respect by remaining motionless and silent for a few seconds after Storrel had finished. Then, the formalities over, the leader beckoned to them to follow and turned back toward the door through which he and his companions had appeared. Two of the other Ganymeans followed him to lead the party of Earthmen, and the remaining pair fell in behind.
They proceeded along a broad, white-walled corridor onto which many doors opened from both sides. Every place was brilliantly lit by a uniform diffuse glow that seemed to emanate from every part of the ceiling and from many of the panels that made up the walls. The floor was soft and yielding beneath their feet and made no sound. The air was cold.
Along the way, groups and small lines of Ganymeans had gathered to watch the procession. Most of them were as tall as those who had met the bus, but several were much smaller and looked more delicate in build and complexion; they appeared to be children at various stages of growth. The variations in clothing on the bystanders was even more pronounced than before, but everyone was wearing the same type of jeweled headband and wrist unit. Hunt began to suspect that these served more than purely decorative purposes. Many of the clothes showed signs of wear and general deterioration, contributing to the overall atmosphere of weariness and demoralization that he sensed on every side. The walls and doors bore scars that had been left by countless scrapings of passing objects; away from the walls the floors had been worn thin by feet that had passed to and fro for longer than he could imagine; and the sagging postures of some of the figures, several of them being supported by companions, told their own story.
The corridor was quite short and brought them to a second, slightly wider one that ran transversely; this second corridor curved away from them to left and right and seemed to be part of a continuous circular thoroughfare that encompassed the core of the vessel. Immediately in front of them, in the curving wall that formed
