like a lone sentinel, the house stood apart at the edge of the village, a white cube with no windows. the door stood open, a dark hole against the white brick. the house was silent. the village beyond was silent.
"they must have seen us land," compton said, a little wildly. "you can't set down a rocket ship a hundred yards from somebody and not have them notice. they must have seen us!"
"unless no one lives here," parker amended. "this may be a ghost city."
"he's right," hinckley agreed. "there might not be anyone living here, or anyplace on the planet for that matter. we've found very little life in these alien star-systems, and it's varied from primitive to ancient. perhaps this society became old and died before any of us were born."
the three earthmen stood at the base of the spaceship, their spacesuit headpieces thrown back so they could breathe in the cool thin air. they stood there peering into the deathly stillness.
"i hope there are people living here," parker said. "it's been more than a month now—"
"well," hinckley said, "let's find out." he waved them forward.
they were fifty feet from the house when a woman appeared in the doorway with a silver vase. she was dressed in a grey flowing robe that covered her from neck to ankles.
"a young woman," hinckley breathed, staring. "a woman just like any on earth!"
his voice was loud in the silence, but the woman took no notice. she stooped and began filling the vase with sand. the two men with hinckley shifted anxiously, settling the sand beneath their boots. behind them the great spaceship pointed its nose at the sky.
parker was staring intently at the girl. "i'm going to like this place," he said slowly.
they walked forward, crunching sand. but the girl took no notice of their approach. she was kneeling beside the house, scooping tiny handfuls of sand into the silver vase. when they were within five feet of her, hinckley cleared his throat. she did not look up. he coughed.
"maybe she's deaf," parker suggested vaguely. his eyes wandered appraisingly over her youthful body; he licked dry lips.
hinckley moved forward and stood before the girl. her small white hands dug into the sand, scooping around his boots as though not aware of them.
"and blind, too?" compton wanted to know. "and without the sense of touch?" there was a strange quality to his voice, as though some primitive part of his unconsciousness was telling him to run.
hinckley bent to tap the girl lightly upon the shoulder. "pardon me, miss. we're visitors from earth," he told her.
but she paid no attention to the sound of his voice, and he stepped back, puzzled.
"now what?" compton wanted to know. he looked around him nervously, at the house, the speckled sand, the rocket squatting behind them. "i hope all the natives aren't like this."
"i do," parker said, licking his lips thoughtfully and keeping his gaze on the girl. "i'd just as soon have them all like this. it might be interesting."
compton flushed. "what i meant—"
"he knows what you meant," hinckley said harshly. "and there won't be any of that going on here. you caused enough trouble on the other planets, and it's not going to happen again, not while i'm in charge of this expedition. we didn't come all the way out here just so you could satisfy your romantic inclinations."
"and how about my off hours, captain," parker said, emphasizing the word as though it were obscene; "then may i fraternize?"
"you have no off hours," hinckley said sternly.
"here comes another one," compton warned in a whisper.
a man, dressed in robes similar to the woman's, came from the door of the house and walked into the yard. after helping the woman to rise, he picked up the vase, and the two of them went back inside the house. he hadn't even looked at the earthmen.
after awhile, parker said, "do you suppose they're both mirages?"
"maybe that's it," compton said. "maybe it's all a mirage, the woman, the vase, the man, the house, maybe even the planet itself." his voice had risen in his excitement.
"take it easy," hinckley advised.
"let's get back to the ship before the whole planet evaporates," compton said.
"go back if you like," hinckley said. "i'm going to investigate this. how about you, parker?"
"okay with me. always wanted to see what makes a mirage tick." he glanced contemptuously at compton.
"okay," compton said, gripping his rifle, "we'll all make fools of ourselves."
"c'mon, then."
hinckley led the way into the house, hesitating only briefly at the doorway. inside, a blue light flickered as the man bent over a flaming trough and poured sand into it from the silver vase. the flames leaped high, filling the room with a sweet fragrance. the man emptied the vase, rose and took it to one corner of the room. he sat down on the couch by the woman. he did not look at the earthlings.
"he doesn't see us either," compton said hoarsely. he cried, "hey, you! you! listen! we're earthmen. visitors from space."
his voice was explosive in the silence. the man didn't look up. the earthmen became aware of music seeping from the walls, music strange and hauntingly beautiful, played on incredible invisible instruments.
"i don't like this," compton said. "i don't like it at all. why are they ignoring us? why?"
"maybe they can't help it," hinckley suggested. "perhaps they actually can't see us or hear us. it's fantastic, but it's possible."
"i wonder," parker mused. and before anyone could stop him, he struck the man across the face with a doubled fist.
"parker!" hinckley cried. "you fool!"
"that's a matter of opinion," parker said steadily, rubbing his knuckles. "i found out what i wanted to."
the man had fallen beneath the blow, but recovered seconds later. there was a large red welt on his forehead, but neither he nor the woman took any notice of it.
"it's incredible," compton said.
"evidently we can affect them physically, even if not mentally," hinckley said. "you do something like that again, parker, and i'll shoot you. i've got the authority to do it, you know, and sometimes the urge."
"i know," parker said, "but you haven't got the guts. besides, i'll behave myself." he looked intently at the young woman. "i just wanted to make certain they're real, that's all."
"let's get out of here," compton suggested. "there must be some way we can get a message through to these people. perhaps someone in the village—"
hinckley nodded and motioned them from the house. compton went eagerly, but parker lingered. the air outside seemed cooler now, and its freshness seemed strange after the pleasant fragrance inside the house.
"go back to the ship," hinckley told parker. "compton and i'll go into the village."
"i like it right here," parker said.
"we might need someone at the ship," hinckley said. "that's an order." his hand caressed his rifle, as though daring parker to refuse.
parker grinned contemptuously. "anything you say, captain. if you need any help, just yell." he turned away and walked toward the rocket.
"someday i'm going to kill him," hinckley promised. he turned to compton. "c'mon, let's see what the village looks like."