remarked at the end of the fourth day, "I think a lot more of you than I did a week ago, Rog. I'm just waiting for you to show the cloven hoof."
"I wonder why everyone's determined I've got one?" Rog inquired.
"Not everyone," said June.
Rog put his arm round her shoulders. "No, honey," he said. "You're not. But everyone else."
"I think I know why it is," said Alice. "Because you are ruthless, Rog. One can feel that. You're cold. You don't emote. You're not sympathetic. You -- "
"Alice." said June warmly, "you're talking utter rubbish. Rog's not like that at all. You don't know what you're talking about."
"Maybe I don't," Alice admitted, but without conviction.
On the fifth day they saw the ship.
It was natural enough that they should see without being seen, though there was a close watch aboard the ship and none in New Paris. For Lemon was hidden in the valley, the ship was never closer than ten miles and New Paris, long deserted, overgrown, was entirely green and brown, like the surrounding territory. On the other hand the great silver ship showed up in the sky like the finger of destiny it was.
Dick saw it first, when he was washing at the well. The most self-conscious individual of either sex on Mundis, Dick dashed into the square, naked, shouting and pointing. Everyone in New Paris saw it. Even at that distance they could see, those of them who were old enough to remember, that it was another Mundis.
They were excited and pleased. No one was overjoyed; everyone there had been born on Mundis and regarded the planet as his own. They wanted to develop it themselves, and to that extent the arrival of another ship was not entirely welcome. From the first, there were mixed feelings about it.
But it was certainly an event, the arrival of another ship.
The more imaginative among them realized at once some of the things it would mean. . . .
Competition. The Mundans might be two groups, might have had their disagreements and split, but whenever this ship appeared it was obvious that it was one for all on Mundis. Whenever contact was made with the second ship it would be Mundan against Terran, in friendly rivalry perhaps, but rivalry.
New people. Lemon was still so small that there was no question of anyone ever meeting anyone he didn't know, and know well. No young Mundan had ever met anyone, young or old, he had not known since childhood -- the childhood of one or both of them. The nearest one could come to meeting someone new had been Rog's recognition of June, after knowing her all her life.
New experience. Different things must have happened to the people on the second ship, whoever they were and wherever they had come from. They would act differently, and the knowledge and experience and reality of everyone on Mundis would be different, enlarged and complicated, for their presence.
The ship moved towards the north, and had clearly seen nothing of Lemon or New Paris. Someone -- Fred Mitchell -- dashed towards the vacant huts at the other end of the village, with the obvious intention of firing one and attracting the attention of someone on the ship.
"Stop, Fred!" Rog shouted. "Come back here!"
"I'm just going to -- "
"I know what you're just going to. Don't do it. Come here."
Fred came back reluctantly, looking over his shoulder at the receding ship.
"Look, Rog," he said protestingly, "even if they're combing Mundis looking for us they may never come in sight of us again. They may think we never got here, or died off or something."
"Perhaps," said Rog. He looked around, saw a mound that would give him an extra two feet of height and jumped on it. Everyone gathered about him.
"Maybe it was a mistake not to let that ship know we're here," he said. "But I think we all ought to think about it a bit first. Take everyone's views before we answer for everybody. The people in Lemon count too, you know. Now, Fred, do you still want to show them we're here?"
"Some people are too damn cautious," said Fred, but he
"I wonder why everyone's determined I've got one?" Rog inquired.
"Not everyone," said June.
Rog put his arm round her shoulders. "No, honey," he said. "You're not. But everyone else."
"I think I know why it is," said Alice. "Because you are ruthless, Rog. One can feel that. You're cold. You don't emote. You're not sympathetic. You -- "
"Alice." said June warmly, "you're talking utter rubbish. Rog's not like that at all. You don't know what you're talking about."
"Maybe I don't," Alice admitted, but without conviction.
On the fifth day they saw the ship.
It was natural enough that they should see without being seen, though there was a close watch aboard the ship and none in New Paris. For Lemon was hidden in the valley, the ship was never closer than ten miles and New Paris, long deserted, overgrown, was entirely green and brown, like the surrounding territory. On the other hand the great silver ship showed up in the sky like the finger of destiny it was.
Dick saw it first, when he was washing at the well. The most self-conscious individual of either sex on Mundis, Dick dashed into the square, naked, shouting and pointing. Everyone in New Paris saw it. Even at that distance they could see, those of them who were old enough to remember, that it was another Mundis.
They were excited and pleased. No one was overjoyed; everyone there had been born on Mundis and regarded the planet as his own. They wanted to develop it themselves, and to that extent the arrival of another ship was not entirely welcome. From the first, there were mixed feelings about it.
But it was certainly an event, the arrival of another ship.
The more imaginative among them realized at once some of the things it would mean. . . .
Competition. The Mundans might be two groups, might have had their disagreements and split, but whenever this ship appeared it was obvious that it was one for all on Mundis. Whenever contact was made with the second ship it would be Mundan against Terran, in friendly rivalry perhaps, but rivalry.
New people. Lemon was still so small that there was no question of anyone ever meeting anyone he didn't know, and know well. No young Mundan had ever met anyone, young or old, he had not known since childhood -- the childhood of one or both of them. The nearest one could come to meeting someone new had been Rog's recognition of June, after knowing her all her life.
New experience. Different things must have happened to the people on the second ship, whoever they were and wherever they had come from. They would act differently, and the knowledge and experience and reality of everyone on Mundis would be different, enlarged and complicated, for their presence.
The ship moved towards the north, and had clearly seen nothing of Lemon or New Paris. Someone -- Fred Mitchell -- dashed towards the vacant huts at the other end of the village, with the obvious intention of firing one and attracting the attention of someone on the ship.
"Stop, Fred!" Rog shouted. "Come back here!"
"I'm just going to -- "
"I know what you're just going to. Don't do it. Come here."
Fred came back reluctantly, looking over his shoulder at the receding ship.
"Look, Rog," he said protestingly, "even if they're combing Mundis looking for us they may never come in sight of us again. They may think we never got here, or died off or something."
"Perhaps," said Rog. He looked around, saw a mound that would give him an extra two feet of height and jumped on it. Everyone gathered about him.
"Maybe it was a mistake not to let that ship know we're here," he said. "But I think we all ought to think about it a bit first. Take everyone's views before we answer for everybody. The people in Lemon count too, you know. Now, Fred, do you still want to show them we're here?"
"Some people are too damn cautious," said Fred, but he
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