THE STARS ARE OURS

Suddenly he could not stand the uncertainty any longer. He wanted to get away-to escape from the thought that perhaps it was going to start all over again-the insecurity- the constant guard duty against a hostile force.

According to the merchief Those Others were now across the sea-but would they remain there? Wouldn't this fertile, deserted land where they had once ruled draw them back again? And they would not accept new settlers kindly.

If the Terrans only knew more about them! Those Others had blasted their world. Dard remembered the callous cruelty of that barn in the valley. Raids, looting, the blasted city, the robot-controlled guns to shoot anything passing out of the air, the warnings of the merpeople.

He plodded across the sand to the inner valley, beading for the cliff house. Rogan had set up the projector the night before, and they had put the first of the discovered tapes in it. If something about the rulers of this world could be learned from those-this was the time to do it!

"Where're you bound for, kid?" Kimber fell into step.

"The cliffs." Dard was being pushed by the feeling that time was not his to waste, that he must know-now!

The pilot asked no more questions but followed Dard into the rock cell where Rogan had installed his machine. The boy checked the preparation made the night before. He turned off the light-the screen on the wall was a glowing square of blue-white and then the projector began to hum.

"This one of those rolls from the carrier?"

But Dard did not answer. For now the screen was in use. He began to watch...

"Turn it off! Turn that off!"

His frenzied fingers found the proper button. They were surrounded by honest light, clean red-yellow walls.

Kimber's face was in his hands, the harshness of his breathing filled the room. Dard, shaken, sick, dared not move. He gripped the edge of the shelf which supported the projector, gripped so tightly that the flesh under his nails turned dead white. He tried to concentrate upon that phenomenon-not on what he had just seen.

"What- what did you see?" he moistened his lips and asked dully. He had to know. Maybe it was only his own reaction. But-but it couldn't be! The very thought that only he had seen that led to panic-to a terror beyond bearing.

"I don't know... " Kimber's answer dragged out of him word by painful word. "It wasn't meant-ever meant for man-our kind of man-to see-"

Dard raised his head, made himself stare at that innocuous screen, to assure himself that there was nothing there now.

"It did something to me-inside," he half whispered.

"It was meant to, I think. But-Great Lord-what sort of minds-feelings-did they have! Not human-totally alien. We have no common meeting point-we never shall have-with that!"

"And it was all just color, twisting, turning color," Dard began.

Kimber's hand dosed about his wrist with crushing intensity.

"I was right," Dard did not feel the pain of that grip, "they used color as a means of communication. But- but-"

"What they had to say with it! Yes, not for us-never for us. Keep your mind off it, Dard. Five minutes more of that and you might not have been human-ever again!"

"We couldn't establish contact with them-with- "

"Minds that could conceive that? No, we can't. So that was what brought you here-you wanted to see if Harmon was right in his neutral policy? Now you know-with that we have no common ground. And we'll have to make the others understand. If we do meet Those Others-the result will undoubtedly be war."

"Fifty- three of us-maybe a whole nation of them left." Dard was still sick and shaken-sensing a deep inner violation.

First there had been the tyranny of Pax, which had been man-made and so understandable, in all its narrow cruelty, because it had been the work of human beings. And now this-which man dared not-touch!

Kimber had regained control of himself. There was even a trace of the familiar impish grin on his face as he said:

"When the fighting is the toughest, that's when our breed digs in toes. And we needn't borrow trouble. Get Kordov and Harmon in here. If we are going to discuss the offer of the mermen we want them to know what to expect from overseas."

But- to Dard's dismay-the projection of Those Others' tapes aroused in Harmon no more than a vague uneasiness -though it shook Kordov. And, as they insisted on the rest of the men viewing it, they discovered that it varied in its effects upon different individuals. Rogan, sensitive to communication devices, almost fainted after a few moments' strict attention. Santee admitted that he did not like it but couldn't say why. But, in the end, the weight of evidence was that they could not hope to deal with Those Others.

"I'm still sayin'," Harmon insisted, "that we shouldn't get pulled into anything them sea people has started. You say them pictures make Those Others regular devils. Well, they're still across the sea. We shouldn't go lookin' for trouble-then maybe we don't find none!"