“God!” Rosemary exclaimed, jumping nearly a yard to grip Carter’s sleeve.
The creature made a series of clicks. It was quickly followed by the deep thrum of the Martian instrument, projecting words that were clear and musical, but without any emotive inflection: “NO WORSHIP MACHINE”
“You can understand us?” The captain asked, stepping closer to the creatures.
More clicks. “MACHINE HEARS” Came the intoned reply. “MACHINE REMEMBERS”
“What does it remember?” Lamont blurted out, lifting his recorder to better catch the sound of the organ.
There was a pause. Then: “TOO MUCH”
“Too much,” Lamont repeated philosophically, glancing at his companions.
Rosemary rolled her eyes. “They might be saying that your question needs to be more specific, Monty.”
“Have you used this machine with the others? The smaller ones who look like us?” Lamont asked, undeterred.
“LONG AGO” Came the response.
“When?” Lamont prodded. “What happened?”
“TOO LATE” The organ droned. “TOO FAR FROM SKY”
Francis put a hand on Lamont’s shoulder. “We don’t have time for this,” He said, regret evident in his tone. “We’ll come back.” He raised his voice, directing it toward the three creatures. “We have to go home now. They are waiting for us.”
“ALL GO” Was the reply. Was it a statement or a question? Lamont wondered. The trio exchanged uncertain glances.
“ALL GO” The organ repeated.
Carter’s brow furrowed, and then he spread his hands toward Lamont and Rosemary, perhaps forgetting that the creatures probably could not see him. “Yes,” he said, “We all have to go. So we can come back and do this properly.”
The machine gave an emphatic, inarticulate thrum, as if receiving a command for which it had no English word. Then: “ALL GO”
Then: “NO COME BACK”
Next: A Dangerous Request