The stupor of the two Nocturnals was so paralyzing for them that they did not defend themselves, or try to escape, if they were even conscious of the danger facing them. Lifted up by a leap to the height of the colossal stature of the “gorillas,” neither Vitto nor Soca had any difficulty in bringing down his reversed hatchet on the right spot. The two iron hammers struck the two naked skulls. Opening their arms and dropping their captives, the Nocturnals tottered—but they were tough; they did not fall. Instinct kept them upright; fear gave them the determination to flee. They took one large stride backwards, turned away, tried to run...
But Vitto and Soca were on them again; the second hammer-blows were completely efficacious. One of the monsters fell to its knees and then prone; the other fell sideways like a dead weight.
At that moment, Fageat and Margot arrived, who, in the capacity of a rear-guard, were ready to use their pistols to stop any offensive return of a more or less numerous group of Nocturnals at a distance. In all probability, however, none of the others had been aware of the unimaginable drama that was unfolding behind them, for not a single one came back. Already, the dark host, fleeing rapidly, was confused in the darkness with the black shadows of the rocky wooded hills toward which they were running.
With the engineer as his second, Saint-Clair ordered:
“Help Soca and Vitto to tie up the Nocturnals securely. I’ll see to the Diurnals.”
Before that, however, he raised the powerful whistle with which he was equipped to his lips and launched a strident blast into the night. In the distance, two dark forms stood up in the small dunes: Véronique d’Olbans and Gno Mitang.
Released by the arms of their abductors, the two phosphorescent Rheans—the “Diurnals,” or “bat-men,” according to the general and distinctive appellation that the Terrans had tacitly agreed to give them—were still stretched out on the ground, motionless. Leaning over one of them, Saint-Clair saw its eyes: very large almond-shaped eyes, heavily wrinkled toward the temples, opening between the brow-ridge and the cheeks in the same plane, devoid of eyebrows, lids or lashes. They were very large—immense by comparison with the dimensions of the whole face—and each composed of a pale pink globular sclerotic, a blue cornea and a pupil that was no more than a golden dot. The blue of the cornea—the color of the eye, in sum—was infinitely pale in hue, clear and transparent. Like a large drop of pure water, beyond which there was nothing but the atmosphere, the air, the sky… a pale sky…
If ever the epithet “unfathomable” could be applied to eyes, the Nyctalope thought, it’s to these eyes...
For those Rhean eyes, which could not close since they had no eyelids, which were alive, since the pale blue corneas with their golden pupils were moving upon the pale pink sclerotics to follow the movements of Saint-Clair’s head, were devoid of expression! Nothing! No sentiment: neither surprise, nor fright, nor pain nor pleasure—nothing! They were looking at him as if they could not see anything—but they could see, since they were moving to the right and the left, toward the forehead or the cheeks, according to whether Saint-Clair’s head, moving in order to observe accurately, went one way or the other, was raised or lowered.
“In any case,” he whispered to himself, “they’re lovely eyes!”
He stood up and looked around.
Véronique and Gno Mitang, kneeling beside the second Diurnal, were leaning over and making a close examination.
With the reels of slender and sturdy cord that formed part of each Terran’s equipment, Vitto, Soca, Fageat and Margot were finishing tying up the two Nocturnals, with their legs together and their arms bound to their sides. The latter were docile and resigned, but not unconscious, for they had emerged almost immediately from the daze caused by the second impact, and were breathing and wheezing, but without putting up a fight. Saint-Clair was close enough to one of them to see its face—a face much more similar to that of a large terrestrial gorilla than the faces of the Diurnals were to those of the men or women of Earth. Evidently, the Nocturnal and Diurnal Rheans were two distinct species.
But are these Herculean ape-men like the apes of our world? the Nyctalope wondered—for in the grunts that alternated with the inhalations and exhalations he seemed to distinguish the essential characteristics of a language. Soon, it seemed certain to him that the two Nocturnals were talking to one another—and their eyes were so expressive! Truly “human” eyes!
Thanks to his extraordinary faculty of seeing as clearly in the darkness as in daylight, the Nyctalope cold make out the slightest details of the troubling physiognomy of the Nocturnal lying close to him, whose legs had just been securely tied up by Soca and Margot. Those eyes! With eyebrows, lids and lashes, they really were “human” eyes, in spite of their vivid red color, with dark green pupils and pale green sclerotics: bizarre colors for an eye, by Terrans standards—but human in their expression and gaze.
Strange! Saint-Clair said to himself. For it’s these Nocturnals that appear to be savage animals—brutes—while the Diurnals, with their inexpressive eyes, seem to be civilized beings, thinkers...
He would have let himself drift into a long meditation had the not abruptly become aware of the fact that, now that the two “gorillas” were tied up, while the two phosphorescent Rheans were still lying motionless on the ground, Véronique, Gno Mitang, Fageat, Margot, Vitto and Soca were all standing up, awaiting his decision and his orders.
Immediately, he said:
“There are still some branches trees on the bank; the current of the river hasn’t carried away all those the Nocurnals brought to make a bridge. Go and cut a few branches of the right length to make two stretchers, on to which we’ll load our four captives… or two, if the Diurnals, taken by the hand, understand that we want them to come with us and consent to do so.”
Rapidly, Vitto, Soca, Fageat and Margot went to cut the necessary branches with their hatchets from the uprooted trees dragged by the Nocturnals from the forested hills to the edge of the river encircling the city.
Véronique, Gno and Saint-Clair remained alone for almost a quarter of an hour with the two Diurnal Rheans, now lying side by side, but not budging, even though all four of their limbs were free. Their immense, magnificent, unfathomable and inexpressive eyes were still following, with a gaze that was evidently sighted even though it appeared blind, the slightest movements and displacements of the new beings that had saved them from their abductors.
“Leo, Gno, look!” said Véronique suddenly.
The top of the wall, from one end to the other of that side of the city, was now swarming with phosphorescent Rheans.
“Yes,” said Gno. “The entire population of the city is assembling to observe or contemplate the unexpected spectacle that we’re presenting to them.”
Saint-Clair added:
“I still don’t know whether they understand anything, or what ideas they have. I hope to find out soon from these two, whom we’ll take back to the Olb.-I with us, voluntarily or by force. They have an architecture, so they must have a geometry, writing and probably a language, since they have a mouth, teeth and a tongue like ours. Fundamentally, though, their eyes are disconcerting. The wings under the arms are trivial—but those eyes!”
“That’s true,” said Véronique. “They’re much less human than those of the Nocturnals.”
“The Nocturnals also have a language,” said Gno. “These two were talking to one another just now—there’s no doubt about it.”
“Well, we’ll soon know that and other things,” the Nyctalope concluded.
Then, however, a phenomenon occurred with which the Terrans were already familiar, but which was nevertheless far from their minds at that moment.
Above the dark background of the western horizon, clouds suddenly rose, spreading so rapidly that they ran from one extreme of the sky to the other like a violently-tugged veil; and they were so thick, so opaque, that they completely blocked the light of the two “moons” and the stars, so effectively that in less than a mi
nute, Rhea was plunged into the blackest darkness.
Only the Nyctalope could see that the clouds, rolling up above in enormous agglomerated masses, were racing eastwards at high speed. He assumed that the phenomenon would be of short duration, as the others of the same essence had been. Nevertheless, he was impatient to get back to the Olb.-I, so he ordered:
“Light the electric lamps—we’re leaving.”
Véronique, Gno Mitang and the others obeyed immediately—but there was a further surprise. Several luminous beams hit the faces of the two bound Nocturnals, who immediately howled in pain, closing their eyes, and rolled over in order to press their faces to the ground.
“Aha!” said Saint-Clair, who had seen everything. “The Nocturnals can’t stand light! Are they Nocturnal through and through? Might the evidently artificial phosphorescence of the city’s walls and buildings, the phosphorescence of the garment, and the less vivid phosphorescence of the Diurnals’ faces, be a means of defense against the Nocturnals? A means of diminishing the visual power of the Nocturnals in the Rhean night?”
“That’s interesting!” exclaimed Véronique.
“Yes.” And Saint-Clair went on, with evident impatience: “Let’s go! Avoid directing the beams of the electric lamps at the captives. Fageat, Margot, Vitto and Soca, load the two Nocturnals on to the stretchers; you carry them. Véronique!”
“Leo!”
“An experiment. Gno, illuminate her clearly, so that the Diurnals can see her; the light won’t harm them, and even interests them, to judge by the movements of their heads and eyes. Good. Véronique, lie down on your back on the ground, there, as the Diurnals are lying.”
The young woman obeyed.
“Perfect,” said Saint-Clair. He leaned toward her. “Give me your right hand. There! And now, as if obedient to the pull of my hand, get up.”
That was done.
Gno, Véronique and Saint-Clair saw that the two phosphorescent Rheans had missed nothing of the little pantomime.
When Véronique was upright, Saint-Clair said to her:
“Now lean over and take the right hand of that Rhean—and pull! Is it getting up?”
It was an emotional moment. If the solicited Rhean stood up, it would reveal by that action that it was in possession of a truly “human” intelligence and faculty of obedience.
The Rhean allowed itself to be taken by the hand without resistance, and in response to Véronique’s muscular solicitation, it obeyed! It rose up, with a supple surge of its entire body, to a standing position.
“Now the other, Véronique!” said Saint-Clair, swiftly.
“Yes.”
And without letting go of the first Rhean’s hand, the young woman leaned toward the second and tried to grasp its left hand—and that one raised its own hand and grasping the fingers, illuminate by Gno’s electric torch, that were offered to it. It too stood up.
“That first experiment opens up immense and fortunate prospects,” said Gno Mitang. “The Rheans have an intelligence analogous to ours.”
Pointing to the Rhea standing to the right of the delighted Véronique, Saint-Clair said:
“That one’s a male.” Then he pointed to the other. “That one’s a female.”
There was, in fact, no possible doubt. Each of them molded by the one-piece garment, the two phosphorescent Diurnals presented, in the forms and contours of their bodies, especially at the breast and the hips, differences as distinct as they were evident. Their hair could not be seen, for they were each coiffed in a kind of tight bonnet made of the same material as the body-stocking, which encircled the forehead and cheeks, leaving the ears free, and the neck immediately beneath the chin. Their faces were different too, the female’s being more oval and apparently less bony than the male’s.
“We’re ready, Monsieur,” said a coarse voice.
It was Fageat’s. He and Margot had an improvised stretcher on their shoulders, holding it with both hands. Beside them, Vitto and Soca were carrying the other; the Nocturnals were solidly attached to them.
“Good!” said Saint-Clair.
The clouds were still covering the sky. The night was so dark that without the electric lamps the Terrans would have been unable to see one another—except for the Nyctalope, who could see everything. Beyond the river, which was reflecting the phosphorescence of the high city wall, the latter was like a scene of enchantment. At the very top, there was still the phosphorescent crowd of Rheans, doubtless passionately interested by the spectacle, incomprehensible to them, of the two isolated Rheans and the beams of light that were bobbing around them. To the Terrans, it was obvious that the Rheans could not see in the darkness of the night, while the “gorillas,” or Nocturnal Rheans, nyctalopes like Saint-Clair, could not bear any light brighter than the enigmatic phosphorescence of the city and its inhabitants.
“Gno, my friend,” said Saint-Clair, “I’ll lead the way. Follow me while illuminating Véronique and her companions. Fageat, Margot, Vitto and Soca—forward mach! We’re going back to the Olb.-I.”
The four stretcher-bearers had each attached an electric lamp to one of the buttons of their jackets.
“Will they want to come with me?” Véronique asked.
“I don’t doubt it,” said Saint-Clair. “They seem to me to be simultaneously docile and prodigiously curious. They understand that we don’t mean them any harm, since we’ve saved them and made certain that their aggressors can do them no harm. They’re wondering what we are and where we come from, as we’d be wondering on Earth if… but enough talking. Véronique, make the necessary movements to tell them what you want.”
And, having orientated himself with respect to the position of the distant hills to the left, and the river and the city to the right, the Nyctalope took the first bound of the return journey to the Olb.-I.
Well-illuminated from the side by Gno Mitang, Véronique moved her arms while gripping the Rheans’ hands, sketching out a first step. She perceived no resistance in the warm and slender fingers of her two voluntary captives, but a significant acquiescence. Then she launched herself forwards, toward Saint-Clair, who the beam of Gno’s torch immediately sought out and found, fifty meters ahead. And like her, the Rheans leapt forward. Lighter than Véronique, however and equipped with wings of which she was deprived, and also endowed of a muscular strength that astonished her when she perceived it. The Rheans supported the Terran woman in the air, in a bound much higher and longer than she could have contrived alone.
That appeared to her to be so amusing and s comical that she laughed with pleasure. To her right and left, a cascade of silvery sounds burst forth; like the Terran, the Rheans were laughing!
Chapter VII
A World Without Fire
There were no more clouds gliding in the pure sky, and the eastern horizon was tinted with a rosy mauve when the strange troop of the Terrans, the Diurnal Rheans with Véronique and the Nocturnal Rheans carried on stretchers reached the edge of the forest in a clearing of which the Olb.-I was located.
Within the woods their progress was less free because of the trees, and thus slower; it was almost daylight when the Terrans stopped in front of their vehicle.
The solitude of the clearing had not been violated; everything was intact.
“Put the Nocturnals in the crew quarters with the portholes closed, in the dark,” Saint-Clair ordered, “for their eyes suffer a great deal in any light brighter than the cold and pale Rhean phosphorescence. We’ll deal with them later. The first essential thing is to create a rapport of intelligence and comprehension between the Diurnal Rheans and ourselves. Véronique, I’ll leave it to you to introduce them and accommodate them in the central compartment, our living-room.”
“Yes,” said the young woman, “but I also want to put on my light pajamas right away. I’m stifling in all this equipment. Even at night it’s warm on Rhea. A mild and pleasant warmth, but in which one doesn’t require overmuch clothing. I can understand the simple body-stockings of these Diurnal
s and the near-total nudity of the Nocturnals.”
Saint-Clair, Gno Mitang and the other Terrans, who had overheard, exclaimed:
“Oh yes! To the wardrobes—new clothes! We’ll live in pajamas or short trousers and shirts without sleeves or collars! The experiment of the first day and night was conclusive with regard to the question of costume, at least in the present season—if there’s a seasonal regime on Rhea analogous to that on Earth.”
An hour later—the Nocturnals, still bound, having been sheltered from any light—the seven Terrans ate a rapid but substantial meal in the central compartment, before the two seated, immobile and attentive Diurnals, visibly interested observers. And then—for they were so excited that no one thought of going to sleep, in spite of the long and active night they had spent—the Terrans began the exciting work of entering into a reciprocal intelligence and comprehension with the two Diurnal Rheans.
It was much easier and more rapid than they had dared to hope.
Immediately, several certainties imposed themselves, which the Terrans’ minds took to be conclusively acquired notions.
The Diurnal Rheans were endowed with extremely musical and nuanced voices; their language included all the vowels of human languages, but fewer consonants. In their species, the ear, the nose, the tongue, the conformation of the mouth and the dentition were very similar to those of the human species, except that they had no incisors or canines, but only twenty-four molars in two rows of twelve, similar to the most beautiful ivory. Their eyes had an entirely Rhean, but uniquely Diurnal, originality, like the almost total generality of human eyes. Their bodies, male and female, functioned like the bodies of terrestrial males and females, but with a more summary gastric and digestive apparatus. The hands each had five fingers arranged like human digits, but longer and proportionately more muscular. The feet had six toes, also long, and prehensile, like those of the majority of terrestrial monkeys. The natural suppleness of the Diurnals’ bodies was comparable to that acquired by the best acrobatic dancers of the human species.
The Return of the Nyctalope Page 10
