seem there is a good deal more you can tell me, Doxa—if you will.”
“It will be a pleasure, wondrous stranger—but first I would make a request. Might others of my fellows, men and women, undergo the marvelous language experience that they, too, might converse? My own particular friends?”
Abna smiled an acknowledgement, thereupon Doxa reverted to his own language and singled out half a dozen men and women from the assembly. Each in turn underwent the rigors of the Educator and emerged wide-eyed and knowledgeable.
“That’s all?” Abna asked, looking at the three men and three women; then at Doxa.
“That is enough,” Doxa said ambiguously. “Were I to include any more they would know as much as I do, and that would not be sensible. My friends and I, having now the power to converse with you, have also the control of our fellows.”
Abna nodded slowly. “Because you have the knowledge? I understand.”
“We have needed something like this,” Doxa said slowly. “Something that would give to one of us—or a picked body of us—a little extra knowledge, thereby making it right that we should be rulers. Up to now nobody has ruled, and the outcome has been something approaching chaos.”
“Which you can remedy?” the Amazon inquired.
“Exactly. But come with me, friends, and consider yourselves entirely welcome. Your machine will be perfectly safe.”
Although Abna was reasonably sure of the fact, he did not neglect to leave the controls completely locked: then he watched as the crowd of little men and women filed out through the airlock.
“Any idea what we’re getting into?” the Amazon asked.
“Not the slightest—but if we can’t deal with an army of pygmies if they get tough, we must be slipping. Let’s go.”
With that Abna followed the crowd through the glare of the magnesium sunlight. He took one fleeting glimpse of it sailing, at the zenith in the cobalt sky. Then he began to follow the chattering, laughing crowd across the metallic plain in the direction of the crudely built buildings. Almost in the center of them stood a massive, tall needle of silver with a ledge near its top. Perhaps it was an observation post, some kind of totem pole, or even a pagan god. It was difficult to say.
“I think you’re right about this stuff being silver,” Viona said, coming up. “It’s incredible, but true.”
“Might take that pillar away with us against a rainy day,” Abna chuckled; then he caught the Amazon’s cold, disapproving glance.
“For a man many times a multimillionaire that’s a crazy remark,” she commented. “That exhilaration radiation must be working overtime on you.”
“It is,” Abna admitted. “I see no particular reason to resist it, either. I feel most remarkably cheerful, and it’s obvious that these child-people feel likewise. If this planet were not so far from Earth it would make an excellent health resort.”
The Amazon closed the distance between herself and Abna and then she lowered her voice a little.
“Did you make anything of Doxa’s remark that these people—and himself—are descendants of the Asronians?”
“I made nothing of it at all. Maybe we will later.”
And Abna did not attempt to concentrate any further. Nor for that matter did the Amazon. The curious exhilaration that the planet produced made anything concentrative too much effort. It was so much easier to succumb and let things be.
Finally, somewhat dazzled by the brilliance of the metal plain, the party reached the outermost of the odd-looking buildings, and here Doxa called a halt. He shouted a few words to the crowd, with the result that they all dispersed quickly to different buildings—then, with his six colleagues on either side of him, he faced the travelers.
“I would suggest that we dine and confer at the same time,” he said. “This is my home, to which you are fully welcome.”
His choice of words in the language that had been ‘wished’ on him was somewhat peculiar but the meaning was clear. And his pomp and ceremony was also almost amusing. Abna and the Amazon nodded gravely and stepped into the low-roofed dwelling, with Viona and Mexone close behind them.
Within, the habitation was surprisingly roomy, though the roof was low. There was a small amount of fairly earthly looking furniture, and the walls were crudely decorated. The surprising thing was that the edifice was built of timber—very roughly and amateurishly built, too—and not of the all-prevailing silver. Two windows gave adequate illumination, considering the tremendous power of the external sunlight.
“Be seated,” Doxa invited, with a flourish—and after some maneuvering of the odd chairs, the quartet managed to fix themselves up. Doxa waited until they were seated, then he gave a sign that promptly caused his six followers to sit cross-legged on the wooden floor. The resemblance to children playing some kind of game at a party could not be avoided.
“Now you shall have food, my friends,” Doxa decided, and going to the door of his dwelling he gave an all-powerful cry in his own language. This done, he returned and sat cross-legged at the head of his retinue.
“I appoint myself as leader, therefore I shall do the talking,” he said, with a cherubic smile. “We, the Asronians, have never had a leader before. Leadership comes by knowing something more than the next man, by being singled out for a certain purpose. I have been thus singled out; therefore, I shall be leader.”
At the close of this speech he looked around on his followers as though expecting dissent, but none came. Satisfied, he folded his arms and endeavored to look dignified. The effect was somewhat seriocomic.
“Speak, travelers from a distant world. What do you wish to know?”
“You speak of yourselves as ‘descendants’,” Abna said slowly. “What happened to your predecessors?”
“Originally,” Doxa said, “there was the most powerful race of scientists in the Universe on this planet. If that sounds ego—ego—” He hesitated over the word, then took a deep breath. “If that sounds egotistical, it is not meant to. They were geniuses, every man and woman of them. But too clever for their own good.”
Doxa paused and froze into silence as two women appeared with food on trays. Strangely enough, it was meat, though there had as yet been no sign of animals around. There were implements to eat it with, and a kind of wine. The trays were set down on the floor and the women departed.
“I trust our food is correct for your type of physique,” Doxa remarked anxiously, and waited while Abna tested it.
“Yes—excellent,” Abna smiled. “Our thanks to you, Doxa, though we are wondering where the meat came from.”
“A small animal much prevalent in the underground,” Doxa explained. “Our main staple meat diet. The animals multiply very rapidly, except when the giant beasts arouse themselves and enjoy an orgy of destruction.”
Since the four had not the least idea what Doxa was talking about, they let the matter drop and tackled the food. And very palatable it proved to be.
“You were saying,” the Amazon remarked, “that
