The Man on the Meteor by Ray Cummings

Those next three days in Rax-the three days immediately following our return from the Water of Wild Things-were critical. We did, indeed, have but little time for sleep. We were exhausted when we returned-Nona and I. We played with Boy a little; and then, with him beside us lustily practicing his newly learned swimming strokes, we fell into deep slumber.

Atar awakened us. The city, he said, was seething with excitement. Our return was already known. Rumor of danger-nobody knew just what-was on every tongue.

Atar was pale, but composed. "Strange things are impending, Nemo. Very strange. And ominous-frightening. My father bids me bring you to him now."

He said it so ceremoniously, so solemnly, that his tone alarmed me more than the words. I sat him down and he waited impatiently while Nona hastily prepared us food. Then-with Nona and Boy-we swam past Caan's house. Nona and Boy stayed there; I would not again leave them alone. Then Atar and I went on, swimming slowly through the city streets toward the King's palace.

The city was indeed in turmoil. I wondered how the news of our return had spread so swiftly. To do anything secretly of public interest and importance is difficult. And yet how should the Marinoids know already that danger was all about us in the water? How could they know that war with the Maagogs was impending? The city knew it; rumor of it was everywhere.

The streets had almost a holiday aspect. At every intersection groups of swimmers were gathered. Passersby were hurrying to and fro, aimlessly. Women cluttered the balconies. A holiday aspect, did I say? It was not that. The crowds hung poised, talking in low tones; the swimmers gazed often behind them apprehensively; the women on the balconies stared down with solemn, frightened eyes-and hushed their children with over-stern commands. Terror, not joy, was in the water that morning-a nameless terror, born of the Unknown.

I whispered something of the kind to Atar.

"Soon they will know what the danger is," he answered. "Then will come enthusiasm, the desire to fight. The terror will be forgotten. Father's speech to them will fix that."

"Yes," I said. "We must give them that, or we are lost."

As we swam forward through the streets, the people recognized us. Occasionally a few would cheer; but for the most part they stared at us silently. Some followed us; soon there would have been a crowd in line behind us, but Atar dispersed them imperiously.

"Atar! Look there!"

In a doorway a figure was lurking. A man. I recognized him. He had never married; and I remembered that they said no Marinoid girl would take him for mate because of his Maagog origin.

The half-breeds! I have so far mentioned them but casually. With both Marinoid and Maagog blood, they were called Marinogs-a term they resented heartily. I had never given them much thought, had never known nor cared how many of them there might be. But now, as you shall hear, we were soon to deal with them in tragic fashion.

The Marinog in the doorway stood motionless. And as we passed, I felt his inscrutable gaze upon us. Something in it made me shiver, and I turned and looked back to him. He was still staring-his face wholly expressionless.

Atar pulled me on. As we approached the King's palace, the throngs in the streets grew denser. They cheered us more frequently now. But among them, everywhere, I saw Marinogs-whiter, puffy of flesh, with larger eyes. Those were the real half-breeds. But I wondered how many there might prove to be among us with that unseen, unmarked taint of Maagog blood.

The crowds cheered-but the Marinogs were silent. They swam about furtively; or lurked in doorways; or in tangles of the street vegetation here and there. And always I felt their stolid gaze upon Atar and me.

We entered the upper palace doorway, at the threshold of which the dolphin sleigh lay waiting on the platform. In a broad low room, brightly lighted by rows of pods at its ceiling, the King greeted us. He was seated in a shell, on a throne built of smaller shells cemented together.

Save for him, the apartment was empty. He kept his seat, and we reclined on the platform at his feet. Outside we could hear the murmurs of the gathering crowd.

"You must speak to them soon, my father," said Atar.

The King nodded. He was very grave, perturbed inwardly I knew; but outwardly solemn and grim. Then, suddenly discarding his reserve, he talked to me as though I were his son. For generations, he said, this secret mingling of Marinoid and Maagog blood had been a source of concern to the Government at Rax. There were no more than a few hundred known half-breeds in each of the Marinoid cities. The Marinoid women were averse to mating with them. Yet, nevertheless, thousands perhaps of the Marinoids were tainted. There were two reasons for this. First: Some of the Maagog men who had smuggled themselves in, looked enough like Marinoids to pass unrecognized. And secondly: There were immoral Marinoid women in all the cities.