ls were
all tightly beamed; we would know when we came lower.

We dropped down into the airway levels, and still our receivers failed
to pick up a signal of any sort--not even a whisper of static. And
strangely, our radarscopes failed to record even a blip from their
atmosphere ships!

"I guess it's our equipment, Harry," I said. "It just doesn't seem to
function in this atmosphere. We'll have to put Edwards to work on it
when we go back upstairs."

We spotted an airport on the outskirts of a large city. The runways were
laid out with the precision of Earth's finest. I put our ship's nose
eastward on a runway and took it down fast through a lull in the
atmosphere ship traffic.

As we went down I saw tiny buildings spotted on the field which surely
housed electronic equipment, but our receivers remained silent.

I taxied the shuttle up to an unloading ramp before the airport's
terminal building and I killed the drive.

"Harry," I said, "if it weren't that their ships are so outlandishly
stubby and their buildings so outflung, we might well be on Earth!"

"I agree, Captain. Strange, though, that they're not mobbing us. They
couldn't take this delta-winged job for one of their ships!"

It _was_ strange.

I looked up at the observation ramp's occupants--people who except for
their bizarre dress might well be of Earth--and saw no curiosity in the
eyes that sometimes swept across our position.

"Be that as it may, Harry, we certainly should cause a stir in these
pressure suits. Let's go!"

We walked up to a dour-looking individual at a counter at the ramp's
end. Clearing my throat, I said rather inanely, "Hello!"--but what
_does_ one say to an extrasolarian?

I realized then that my voice seemed thunderous, that the only other
sounds came from a distance: the city's noise, the atmosphere ships'
engines on the horizon--

* * * * *

The Centaurian ignored us.

I looked at the atmosphere ships in the clear blue sky, at the
Centaurians on the ramp who appeared to be conversing--and there was no
sound from those planes, no sound from the people!

"It's impossible," Harry said. "The atmosphere's nearly Earth-normal. It
should be--well, damn it, it _is_ as sound-conductive; _we're_ talking,
aren't we?"

I looked up at the Centaurians again. They were looking excitedly
westward. Some turned to companions. Mouths opened and closed to form
words we could not hear. Wide eyes lowered,