“It’s making me almost sick,” confided a man at Reynolds’ elbow. “You’re sure what you say is true, Doctor?”

“Cross my heart,” Reynolds said. The two men who had left to fetch the suits returned. Reynolds wasted another minute lecturing them.

“Stop enjoying yourself so much,” Kelly whispered when they were at last under way.

Before they reached the first of the tight passages where crawling was necessary, three men had dropped away, dashing back toward the tug. Working from a hasty map given him by the aliens, he was leading the party toward a section of the ship where he had never before. The walk was less difficult than usual. In most places a man could walk comfortably and the ceilings were high enough to accommodate the aliens themselves. Reynolds ignored the occasional shouted exclamation from the men behind. He steered a silent course toward his destination.

The room , hen they reached it, was huge, big as a basketball gymnasium, the ceiling lost in the deep shadows above. Turning, Reynolds counted the aliens present: fifteen … twenty … thirty … forty … forty-five … forty-six. That had to be about all. He wondered if this was the full crew.

Then he counted his own people: twenty-two. Better than he had expected-only six lost en route, victims of the smell.

He spoke directly to the alien who stood in front of the others.

“Greetings,” he said. The alien wasn’t Vergnan, but it could have been Jonathon.

From behind, he heard, “They’re just like giraffes.”

“And they even seem intelligent,” said another.

“Exceedingly so. Their eyes.”

“And friendly too.”

“Hello, Reynolds,” the alien said. “Are these the ones?”

“Jonathon?” asked Reynolds.

“Yes. “

“These are the ones.”

“They are your leaders-they wish to question my people. “

“They do.”

“May I serve as our spokesman in order to save time?”

“Of course,” Reynolds said. He turned and faced his party, looking from face to face, hoping to spot a single glimmer of intelligence, no matter how minute. But he found nothing. “Gentlemen?” he said. “You heard?”

“His name is Jonathon?” said one.

“It is a convenient expression. Do you have a real question?”

“Yes,” the man said. He continued speaking to Reynolds. “Where is your homeworld located?”

Jonathon ignored the man’s rudeness and promptly named a star.

“Where is that?” the man asked, speaking directly to the alien now.

Reynolds told him it lay some thirty light-years from Earth. As a star, it was very much like the sun, though somewhat larger.

“Exactly how many miles in a light-year?” a man wanted to know.

Reynolds tried to explain. The man claimed he understood, though Reynolds remained skeptical.

It was time for another question.

“Why have you come to our world?”

“Our mission is purely one of exploration and discovery,” Jonathon said.

“Have you discovered any other intelligent races besides our own?”

“Yes. Several.”

This answer elicited a murmur of surprise from the men. Reynolds wondered who they were, how they had been chosen for this mission. Not what they were, but who. What made them tick. He knew what they were: politicians, NASA bureaucrats, a sprinkling of real scientists. But who?

“Are any of these people aggressive?” asked a man, almost certainly a politician. “Do they pose a threat to your-or [to us?”]

“No,” Jonathon said. “None.”

Reynolds was barely hearing the questions and answers now.

His attention was focused upon Jonathon’s eyes. He had stopped blinking now. The last two questions-the ones dealing with intelligent life forms-he had told the truth. Reynolds thought he was beginning to understand. He had underestimated these creatures. Plainly, they had encountered other races during their travels before coming to Earth. They were experienced. Jonathon was lying-yes-but unlike before, he was lying well, only when the truth would not suffice.

“How long do you intend to remain in orbit about our moon?”

“Until the moment you and your friends leave our craft. Then we shall depart.”

This set up an immediate clamor among the men. Waving his arms furiously, Reynolds attempted to silence them. The man who had been unfamiliar with the term “light-year” shouted out an invitation for Jonathon to visit Earth.

This did what Reynolds himself could not do. The others fell silent in order to hear Jonathon’s reply.

“It is impossible,” Jonathon said. “Our established schedule requires us to depart immediately.”

“Is it this man’s fault?” demanded a voice. “He should have asked you himself long before now.”

“No, ” Jonathon said. “I could not have come-or any of my people-because we were uncertain of your peaceful intentions. Not until we came to know Reynolds well did we fully comprehend the benevolence of your race.” The alien blinked rapidly now.

He stopped during the technical questions. The politicians and bureaucrats stepped back to speak among themselves and the scientists came forward. Reynolds was amazed at the intelligence of their questions. To this extent at least, the expedition had not been wholly a farce.

Then the questions were over and all the men came forward to listen to Jonathon’s last words.

“We will soon return to our homeworld and when we do we shall tell the leaders of our race of the greatness and glory of the human race. In passing here, we have come to know your star and through it you people who live beneath its soothing rays. I consider your visit here a personal honor to me as an individual. I am sure my brothers share my pride and only regret an inability to utter their gratitude.”

Then Jonathon ceased blinking and looked hard at Reynolds. “Will you be going too?”

“No,” Reynolds said. “I’d like to talk to you alone if I can.”

“Certainly,” Jonathon said.

Several of the men in the party protested to Kelly or O’Hara, but there was nothing they could do. One by one they left the chamber to wait in the corridor. Kelly was the last to leave. “Don’t be a fool,” she cautioned.

“I won’t,” he said.

When the men had gone, Jonathon took Reynolds away from the central room. It was only a brief walk to the old room where they had always met before. As if practicing a routine, Jonathon promptly marched to the farthest wall and stood there waiting. Reynolds smiled. “Thank you,” he said.

“You are welcome.”

“For lying to them. I was afraid they would offend you with their stupidity. I thought you would show your contempt by lying badly, offending them in return. I underestimated you. You handled them very well.”

“But you have something you wish to ask of me?”

“Yes,” Reynolds said. “I want you to take me away with you.”

As always, Jonathon remained expressionless. Still, for a long time, it said nothing. Then, “Why do you wish this? We shall never return here.”

“I don’t care. I told you before: I am not typical of my race. I can never be happy here.”

“But are you typical of my race? Would you not be unhappy with us?’

“I don’t know. But I’d like to try.”

“It is impossible,” Jonathon said.

“But-but-why?”

“Because we have neither the time nor the abilities to care for you. Our mission is a most desperate one. Already, during our absence, our homeworld may have gone mad. We must hurry. Our time is growing brief. And you will not be of any help to us. I am sorry, but you know that is true.”

“I can talk to the stars.”

“No,” Jonathon said. “You cannot.”

“But I did.”

“Vergnan did. Without him, you could not.”

“Your answer is final? There’s no one else I can ask? The captain?”

“I am the captain.”

Reynolds nodded. He had carried his suitcases and crates all this way and now he would have to haul them home again. Home? No, not home. Only the moon. “Could you find out if they left a tug for me?” he asked.