UNWELCOMED VISITOR

All the way over, all through the loneliness of the long trip, he had consoled himself with the thought of the reception he would get. How they would crowd around him, how they would gape and cheer! All the most prominent and most important Earthlings would rush to see him, to touch their own appendages to his tentacles, to receive his report of interplanetary good will. His arrival would certainly be the most celebrated occasion in all the history of Earth.... He was coming in for a landing, and it was no time for day-dreaming. He brought the ship down slowly, in the middle of a large square, as carefully as if he were settling down among his own people. He gave them a chance to get out from under him before making contact with the ground. When the ship finally rested firmly on the strange planet, he gave a sigh of relief, and for a few long seconds sat there motionless. And then he began to move toward the door. The increased gravity did not affect him as badly as he had thought it would. For the dense atmosphere, with its high oxygen content, he had of course been prepared. He injected another dose of respiratory enzyme into his bloodstream just to make sure, and then swung open the door. The inrush of air caused only a momentary dizziness. Then he climbed over the side and stared about in surprise. No one was paying any attention to him. Their indifference was so enormous that it struck him like a blow. Individuals of both sexes—he could easily distinguish them by the difference in their clothing—were going about their own business as if he simply were not there. A small animal running about on all fours had its forepart to the ground. It trotted from one place to another, making a slight noise with an organ that he felt sure was used for the intake of oxygen. When it came to him, it sniffed slightly, without any especial interest, and then ran off to more important business. No other creature paid him even that much attention. Can it be, he asked himself incredulously, that they don't see me? Perhaps their organs of vision make use of different wave lengths. Perhaps to them I and the ship are not pink and gray respectively, but a perfect black which fails to register. I must speak to them, I must make myself known. They may be startled, but I must take the chance. He rolled over to an individual who towered over him a full spard, and said gravely, "Greetings! I, Xhanph, bring you greetings from the inhabitants of the planet, Gfun. I come with a message of friendship —" There could be no doubt that the other heard him. And saw him too. He looked straight at Xhanph, muttered something, probably about a pink monster, which Xhanph could guess at but not really interpret, and moved on impatiently. Xhanph stared after him with an incredulity that grew by the moment. They didn't understand his language, that he realized. But surely they didn't have to understand in order to be interested. The very sight of his ship, a mere glimpse of him, the first visitor from interplanetary space, should have been enough to bring them flocking around. How could they possibly greet him with such disinterest, with such faces which even to a stranger seemed cold and chilling? When you have traveled as far as he had traveled, you don't give up easily. Another, a shorter individual, was coming toward him, and he began again, "Greetings! I, Xhanph—" This time the individual didn't even stop, but muttered something which must surely have been of the nature of an oath. And hurried on Xhanph tried five more times before he gave up. If there had been the slightest indication of interest, he would have kept on. But there wasn't. The only feeling he could detect was one of impatience at being annoyed. And he saw that there was nothing else to do but go back to his ship. For a while he sat there, brooding. One possible solution struck him, although it didn't seem at all probable. These people were not representative of their kind. Perhaps this entire area he had taken for a city was nothing more than a retreat for the mentally disabled, for those who had found the strain of living too much and had sunk back into a kind of stupor. Perhaps elsewhere the people were more normal. At the thought, he brightened for a moment. Yes, that must be it. Convincing himself against his own better judgment, he lifted the ship into the air again and set it down a few dozen grolls away. But there was no difference. Here, too, the faces looked at him blankly, and people hurried away impatiently when he tried to stop them. He knew now that it was useless to pick up the ship still another time and set it down elsewhere. If there was some rational explanation for such irrational behavior, it could be found here just as well as anywhere else. And explanation there must be. But he would have to look for it. It would not come to him if he simply sat there in the ship and waited for it. He got out and locked the ship so that if someone finally did show curiosity, no harm would come to it. Then he began to roll around the city.