STRANGER FROM SPACE-3
631 Words
BY THE TIME THEY REACHED the source of the light, they were quite demoralized. The musicians had not accompanied them, preferring to carry the message to Yasak in the Stone City that his prospective bride had gone off on a mad journey. The bearers were powdered grey with dust, striped with blood where the dry grass-stems had cut them. They were exhausted and panting. Koroby was walking beside them, for they had abandoned the litter finally. Her blue drapery was ripped and rumpled; her carefully-arranged braids had fallen loose; dust on her face had hid its youthful color, aging her.
The expedition emerged from the jungle on a sandy stretch of barren land. A thousand feet away a gigantic metal object lay on the sand, crumpled as though it had dropped from a great distance. It had been globular before the crash, and was pierced with holes like windows. What could it possibly be? A house? But whoever heard of a metal house? Why, who could forge such a thing! Yasak’s house in the City had iron doors, and they were considered one of the most wonderful things of the age. It would take a giant to make such a ponderous thing as this.
A house, fallen from the sky? The green lights poured out of its crumpled part, and a strange bubbling and hissing filled the air.
Koroby stopped short, clasping her hands and involuntarily uttering a squeal of joyful excitement, for between her and the blaze, his eyes on the destruction, stood a man.....
He was very tall, and his shoulders were very wide. Oh, but he looked like a man, and stood like one—even though his hands were folded behind his back and he was probably dejected. A man in a house from the sky—
Koroby hastily grasped a corner of her gown, moistened it with saliva, and scrubbed her face. She rearranged her hair, and stepped forward.
“Don’t go there—it’s magic—he’ll cast a spell—!” one of the bearers whispered urgently, reaching after her, but Koroby pushed him away. The litter-carriers watched the girl go, unconsciously huddling together as if feeling the need for combined strength. They withdrew into the jungle’s shadows, and waited there anxiously, ready at any moment to run away.
But Koroby, with supreme confidence, walked toward the stranger, her lovely body graceful as a cat’s, her face radiant. The man did not hear her. She halted behind him, waited silent, expectant, excited—but he did not turn. The green fire sputtered upward. At last the girl stepped to the man’s side and gently touched him again. He turned, and her heart faltered: she swayed with bliss.
He was probably a god. Not even handsome Yasak looked like this. Here was a face so finely-chiseled, so perfectly proportioned, that it was almost frightening, unhuman, mechanical. It was unlined and without expression, somehow unreal. Mysterious, compelling.
He was clothed very peculiarly. A wonderfully-made metallic garment enclosed his whole body—legs and all, unlike the Venus-men’s tunics. Even his feet were covered. Perhaps it was armor—though the Venus-men usually wore only breastplate and greaves. And a helmet hid all of the man’s head except his face. Around his waist was a belt with many incomprehensible objects dangling from it. If he was so well armored, why was he not carrying a sword—a dagger at least! Of what use were those things on his belt—for instance, that notched L-shaped thing? It would not even make a decent club!
The stranger did not speak, merely gazed deeply into Koroby’s eyes. And she, returning the gaze, wondered if he was peering into her very soul. The words of a folk-ballad came to her:
“—He’ll smile and touch my cheek,
And maybe more;
And though we’ll neither speak,
We’ll know the score—”
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- Writer
