The first shock of coldness lasted only for a second; when it passsed he could hear, faint but distinct, a steady, rhythmic throbbing. It was as if he could hear, from far down in the depths of the lake, the beating of a giant heart.
They shook the water from their hair and stared at each other with silent surmise. Neither liked to say what he thought that the lake was alive.
«It would be best,» said Hilvar presently, «if we searched among these ruins and kept away from the lake.»
«Do you think there’s something down there?» asked Alvin, pointing to the enigmatic ripples that were still breaking against his feet. «Could it be dangerous?»
«Nothing that possesses a mind is dangerous,» Hilvar replied. (Is that true? thought Alvin. What of the Invaders?) «I can detect no thoughts of any kind here, but I do not believe we are alone. It is very strange.»
They walked slowly back toward the ruins of the fortress, each carrying in his mind the sound of that steady, muffled pulsing. It seemed to Alvin that mystery was piling upon mystery, and that for all his efforts he was getting further and further from any understanding of the truths he sought.
It did not seem that the ruins could teach them anything, but they searched carefully among the piles of rubble and the great mounds of stone. Here perhaps, lay the graves of buried machines-the machines that had done their work se long ago. They would be useless now, thought Alvin, if the Invaders returned. Why had they never come back? But that. was yet another mystery: he had enough enigmas to deal with -there was no need to seek for any more.
A few yards from the lake they found a small clearing among the rubble. It had been covered with weeds, but they were now blackened and charred by tremendous heat, so that they crumbled to ashes as Alvin and Hilvar approached, smearing their legs with streaks of charcoal. At the center of the clearing stood a metal tripod, firmly anchored to the ground, and supporting a circular ring which was tilted on its axis so that it pointed to a spot halfway up the sky. At first sight it seemed that the ring enclosed nothing; then, as Alvin looked more carefully, he saw that it was filled with a faint haze that tormented the eye by lurking at the edge of the visible spectrum. It was the glow of power, and from this mechanism he did not doubt, had come the explosion of light that had lured them to Shalmirane.
They did not venture any closer, but stood looking at the machine from a safe distance. They were on the right track, thought Alvin; now it only remained to discover who, or what, had set this apparatus here, and what their purpose might be. That tilted ring-it was clearly aimed out into space. Had the flash they had observed been some kind of signal? That was a thought which had breath-taking implications.
«Alvin,» said Hilvar suddenly, his voice quiet but urgent, «we have visitors.»
Alvin spun on his heels and found himself staring at a triangle of lidless eyes. That, at least, was his first impression; then behind the staring eyes he saw the outlines of a small but complex machine. It was hanging in the air a few feet above the ground, and it was like no robot he had ever before seen.
Once the initial surprise had worn off, he felt himself the complete master of the situation. All his life he had given orders to machines, and the fact that this one was unfamiliar was of no importance. For that matter, he had never seen more than a few per cent of the robqts that provided hip daily needs in Diaspar.
«Can you speak?» he asked.
There was silence.
«Is anyone controlling you?»
Still silence.
«Go away. Come here. Rise. Fall.»
None of the conventional control thoughts produced any effect. The machine remained contemptuously inactive. That suggested two possibilities. It was either too unintelligent to understand lion or it was very intelligent indeed, with its own powers of choice and volition. In that case, he must treat it as an equal. Even then he might underestimate it, but it would bear him no resentment, for conceit was not a vice from which robots often suffered.
Hilvar could not help laughing at Alvin’s obvious discomfiture. He was just about to suggest that he should take over the task of communicating, when the words died on his lips The stillness of Shalmirane was shattered by an ominous and utterly unmistakable sound-the gurgling splash of a very large body emerging from water.
It was the second time since he had left Diaspar that Alvin wished he were at home. Then he remembered that this was not the spirit in which to meet adventure, and he began toe walk slowly but deliberately toward the lake.
The creature now emerging from the dark water seemed a monstrous parody, in living matter, of the robot that was still subjecting them to its silent scrutiny. That same equilateral arrangement of eyes could be no coincidence; even the pattern of tentacles and little jointed limbs had been roughly reproduced. Beyond that, however, the resemblance ceased. The robot did not possess-it oviously did not require the fringe of delicate, feathery palps which beat the water with a steady rhythm, the stubby multiple legs on which the beast was humping itself ashore, or the ventilating inlets, if that was what they were, which now wheezed fitfully in the thin air.
Most of the creature’s body remained in the water; only the first ten feet reared itself into what was clearly an alien element. The entire beast was about fifty feet long, and even anyone with no knowledge of biology would have realized that there was something altogether wrong about it. It had as extraordinary air of improvisation and careless design, as if its components had been manufactured without much forethought and thrown roughly together when the need arose.
Despite its size and their initial doubts, neither Alvin nor Hilvar felt the slightest nervousness once they had had a clear look at the dweller in the lake. There was an engaging clumsiness about the creature which made it quite impossible to regard it as a serious menace, even if there was any reason to suppose it might be dangerous. The human race had long ago overcome its childhood terror of the merely alien in appearance. That was a fear which could no longer survive after the first contact with friendly extraterrestrial races.
«Let me deal with this,» said Hilvar quietly. «I’m used to handling animals.»
«But this isn’t an animal,» whispered Alvin in return. «I’m sure it’s intelligent, and owns that robot.»
«The robot may own it. In any case, its mentality must be very strange. I can still detect no sign of thought. Hello what’s happening?»
The monster had not moved from its half-raised position at the water’s edge, which it seemed to be maintaining with considerable effort. But a semitransparent membrane had begun to form at the center of the triangle of eyes-a membrane that pulsed and quivered and presently started to emit audible sounds. They were low-pitched, resonant boomings which created no intelligible words, though it was obvious that the creature was trying to speak to them.
It was painful to watch this desperate attempt at communication. For several minutes the creature struggled in vain; then, quite suddenly, it seemed to realize that it had made a mistake. The throbbing membrane contracted in size, and the sounds it emitted rose several octaves in frequency until they entered the spectrum of normal speech. Recognizable words began to form though they were still interspersed with gibberish. It was as if the creature was remembering a vocabulary it had known long ago but had had no occasion to use for many years.
Hilvar tried to give what assistance be could.
«We can understand you now,» he said speaking slowly and distinctly. «Can we help you? We saw the light you made. It brought us here from Lys.»
At the word «Lys» the creature seemed to droop as if it had suffered some bitter disappointment.
«Lys,» it repeated; it could not manage the «s» very well, so that the word sounded like «Lyd.» «Always from Lys– No one else ever comes. We call the Great ones, but they do not hear.»