le. It
lessened the eeriness a lot to know beforehand what a Martian looked
like. He looked like Etl.

* * * * *

Later, something pinged savagely against the flank of our rocket. So
there were trigger-happy individuals here, too. But I remembered how,
on Earth, Etl's cage had been surrounded by machine-guns and cyanogen
tanks, rigged to kill him quickly if it became necessary. That hadn't
been malice, only sensible precaution against the unpredictable. And
wasn't our being surrounded by weapons here only the same thing, from
another viewpoint? Yet it didn't feel pleasant, sensible or not.

There were no more shots for half an hour. But our tension mounted
with the waiting.

Finally Klein said through his helmet phone: "Maybe Etl ought to go
out and scout around now."

Etl was naturally the only one of us who had much chance for success.

"Go only if you really want to, Etl," Miller said. "It could be
dangerous even for you."

But Etl had already put on his oxygen mask. Air hissed into his cage
from the greater pressure outside as he turned a valve. Then he
unlatched the cage-door. He wouldn't be harmed by the brief exposure
to atmosphere of Earth-density while he moved to our rocket's airlock.
Now he was getting around high on his tendrils. Like a true Martian.

He left his specially built pistol behind, according to plan. We had
weapons, but we didn't mean to use them unless everything went dead
wrong.

Etl's tendrils touched the dusty surface of Mars. A minute later, he
disappeared behind some scrub growths. Then, for ten minutes, the
pendant silence was heavy. It was broken by the sound of a shot,
coming back to us thinly through the rarefied air.

"Maybe they got him," Craig said anxiously.

Nobody answered. I thought of an old story I'd read about a boy being
brought up by wolves. His ways were so like an animal's that hunters
had shot him. He had come back to civilization dead. Perhaps there was
no other way.

By sundown, Etl had not returned. So three things seemed possible: He
had been murdered. He had been captured. Or else he had deserted to
his own kind. I began to wonder. What if we were complete fools? What
if there were more than differences of body and background, plus the
dread of newness, between Earthmen and Martians, preventing their
friendship?

What if Martians were basically malevolent?

But speculation was useless now. We were committed to a line