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Updated: June 19, 2025
It was near midnight, Venerian time, when they turned in. The following day they planned to start for the Kaxorian construction camp. They had learned from Tonlos that there were but five of the giant planes completed now, but there were fifteen more under construction, to make up the fleet of twenty that was to attack Earth. These fifteen others would be ready in a week or less.
Finally it came to rest upon the surface, hundreds of feet deep in a lush, dank, tropical jungle, and Brandon plugged into the Venerian room. "Kenor? We've got a lot of use for you, if you can come down here for a while. Thanks a lot." He turned to the Martians. "Luckily, we've got a couple of infra-red transformers aboard, so we won't have to build one.
"Why, Morey, look here I didn't think they had developed astronomy to any degree, because of the constant clouds, but look at this. He has a nice little map of the solar system, with Mercury, Venus, Earth, the Moon, Mars, and all the rest on it. He has drawn in several of the satellites of Jupiter and of Saturn too." The Venerian pointed to Mars and looked inquisitively at them.
His three companions, equally depressed and without a workable idea, remained silent. Abruptly Arcot stood up. "I'm going to speak with the Commander-in-Field here. Then we can start back for Sonor and maybe we had better head for home. It looks as though there is little we can do here." Briefly he spoke to the young Venerian officer, and told him what he had learned about the ship.
The building seemed to be made of a dense, gray stone, much like granite, which was depressing in its perfectly unrelieved front. There were no bright spots of color as there were on all Earthly and Venerian structures. Even the lines were grimly utilitarian; there seemed to be no decoration. Through the great bronze door they walked, and across a small vestibule.
Even to-day there are few Terrestrials or Solarians for that matter who can look at a Nevian, eye to eye, without feeling a creeping of the skin and experiencing a "gone" sensation in the pit of the stomach. The horny, wrinkled, drought-resisting Martian, whom we all know and rather like, is a hideous being indeed. The bat-eyed, colorless, hairless, practically skinless Venerian is worse.
Also we need about two tons of water of any kind the ship's tanks need recharging. I'd like about a ton of the drinking water." Arcot had to translate the Terrestrian measures into the corresponding Venerian terms, of course, but still the officer seemed puzzled. Such a large amount of water would create a real problem in transportation.
"Even if it was some stout lads from Mars and Venus that did all the work we'll take the reward especially since Alcantro and Fedanzo couldn't feel even such a high-voltage salute as that one was, and I can't picture you kissing a Venerian even if you could get to him. Whenever you get lost again, be sure to let us know, now that you've got our address.
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