His ear tympani vibrated faintly. Noises. Wheels churning in loose gravel. Cries, addressed, he thought, to a draft animal of some sort. Two different voices? They had seen his ship come down, and they had driven here to confront the trespa.s.ser.

Fair enough. He unfolded the long veil, starting at his head, over the teleband, and quickly draped his entire body from head down to talons. (No use alarming them right at the outset!) Then he propped up his portable beam between rocks in the clearing so that it would shine on him.

He listened to the cautious steps on the fine pebbles, closer, closer.

And there they were, two of them, standing just outside the light circle.

By the pinions of Pinar! Featherless bipeds!

One seemed calm, the other fearful and fidgety. The calm one stepped out into the light.

Excellent! thought the visitor. It has stereoscopic eyes, nostrils, mouth, ears. Not the most attractive alien he had ever encountered; yet not the ugliest, either. Somewhere in between.

Khor held up both hands to show they were empty, then bowed slowly.

The calm one repeated the gesture with great dignity.

Khor spoke through the tele-band into the mind of his host. "My name is Khor."

The Greek showed his surprise. "You understand Greek? And you are able to speak into my mind? How is this? Whence came you?"

Khor pointed to the band around his head, visible in outline under his body veil.

"Ah," said Eratosthenes. "A mental language device. Fantastic. But where-" He jerked. Strange thoughts... strange sounds... sights... smells... were forming in his head. He gasped. "You are from a distant world? A star?"

Khor nodded.

The geometer gulped. "Are you a G.o.d? The messenger Hermes perhaps?" (How could he be asking this? He didn't believe in G.o.ds!)

"No. I am a mortal, like yourself. My people are a little more scientifically advanced than yours, that's all."

"Why are you here?"

"I was on a collection expedition. I work for a museum, the same as you. I was searching for certain plants... animals... I was loaded up, and on my way home, when a meteorite hit my ship. I had to land for repairs."

"I see. I think I see. Can I help you?"

"I don't know. I will need certain things. Certain... tapes. Certain oils. Some... alkali. And then perhaps some geodetic information."

"Such as?"

"The circ.u.mference of your world, Terra, considered as a sphere."

The Greek eyed his visitor sharply.

Khor hesitated. "Have I asked a forbidden question? Is something, how do you say it, taboo? Or perhaps you were not aware that Terra is a sphere?"

'''That I had indeed surmised. No, I was simply struck by the coincidence. I have been working on the problem for the past several weeks, and very recently, actually within the last few hours, I have obtained some sort of answer. But why do you need to know?"

"I can use Terra's rotational velocity to help fling the ship into escape orbit, when the time comes to leave. To determine that velocity, I need to know Terra's circ.u.mference."

"I think I can provide a fair estimate."

"Excellent."

Eratosthenes had to stop and think a moment. Khor needed the velocity of the rotating Earth? Well, of course. The Earth rotated. That's why the sun appeared to move around the Earth. But that wasn't all. The Earth must revolve around the sun, from a very great distance, once a year. And that's why the sun appeared to move through the zodiac once a year. Actually, it was the Earth that was moving. The sun stood still. The heliocentric hypothesis wasn't a hypothesis. It was a fact. And if the Earth moved around the sun, so did all the five other planets: Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn. And so the sun was a star, much like millions of other stars. Did all those other stars out there have planets, with strange life forms, thinking, working, loving? His heart beat faster as he thought about it. Whom could he tell? n.o.body. "A visitor from another star told me." Next stop, the madhouse. It made him smile just to think about it.

But back to reality, and the present. "So then, Khor, can I offer you the hospitality of my house? Not a Ptolemaic palace- but yet not a hovel, either. Food of all sorts, wines brought in from all parts of the world. Baths, hot and cold. Servants to a.s.sist you. You could relax while we dine, and you could describe your needs to me."

"Your offer is most attractive. Truly, I have a great need. But I do not wish to cause problems for you. I read in your mind certain names: Ptolemy... Hor-ent-yotf... even the female at your side, Ne-tiy. Who are these people? How can they harm you?"

"Harm me? Perhaps the words are too strong. Ptolemy rules-owns-this land, called Egypt. He is a Greek, a foreigner, and he tries to rule softly, and to give no great offense to the people, aside from taking their money. But Hor-ent-yotf, a high priest of the hawk-G.o.d Horus, likewise rules, in that he reigns over the minds and souls of the people. Ne-tiy is a slave, put in my house by Hor-ent-yotf. She is his property, even as his clothing and his cosmetic box are his property. Do you read my thoughts in this matter, honored stranger?"

"I do, and I reply with thoughts. You propose to do a thing offensive to Ptolemy, and horrifying to Hor-ent-yotf, and because of this thing the priest may kill you. Or perhaps make the female kill you. Is this the situation?"

"It is so."

"I find this quite alarming. Obviously, I do not understand your ways. Please explain."

"It is a very complex matter, O visitor from great distances. Perhaps we can continue over cakes and wine?"

"Fourteen percent CH3CH2OH?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Just thinking out loud. A pleasure, Eratosthenes. Just let me close up the bucket."

10. Repairs

"To each his own custom," thought Eratosthenes. "We Greeks eat while reclining on an eating couch. The Egyptians sit in chairs. But you stand."

"At all times," replied the thoughts of his visitor. "We stand to eat, drink, study, work, even to sleep. Our skeletal structure requires it." His gloved hand clasped the wine cup and brought it to his lips through a slit in his body veil.

The Greek heard a "clack" as the metal goblet struck something hard. "Well then, let us look to your needs. First, strips of adhesive cloth. Tapes, you call them. That we have in abundance. It is the custom of the country to use them as bandages to wrap the bodies of the dead, in preparation for burial." He held up a piece of white cloth. "This is a rather fine linen, woven from the flax plant. Every Egyptian family saves sc.r.a.ps of cloth against the inevitable burials. The pieces are ripped into strips: narrow bandages for the fingers, wider ones for the limbs and torso." He tore off a strip and handed it to Khor, who examined it closely.

"What makes it stick?" asked his visitor.

"They dip it in liquid balsam. It sets up hard in a couple of hours."

"It ought to work," said Khor. "Now, about the oil."

"We have several kinds: olive oil, from the fruits of the olive tree. It's used in cooking and in our lamps. Castor oil... several grades. This is from the castor bean. It has medicinal uses, and is also a fine lubricant. The army uses it in the oil packing for its chariot wheels. And linseed oil... which we boil and then use in paints and varnishes."

"Back up. This castor oil... is there a refined grade?"

"Indeed yes. Settled over charcoal and filtered through fine linen."

"I'd like to try that. And now one more thing. A bit of alkali."