Читать книгу Kingpin Planet - John Russell Fearn - Страница 6
ОглавлениеCHAPTER ONE
THE SILVER PLANET
Abna, the majestic, seven-foot giant of faraway Jupiter, sat brooding. Around him were all the resources of the Ultra’s control room; before him a mass of calculations. There was not a sound, since the Ultra was cruising in the free void, far away in the spawning depths of the Milky Way.
“Strange,” Abna mused, turning back to his figures. “It doesn’t seem a normal thing.”
“What doesn’t?”
He glanced up and smiled. The Golden Amazon had just entered the control room, that never-aging woman of superhuman strength and phenomenal beauty who was Abna’s wife.
“I’ve just been making calculations on this silver planet,” Abna explained. “See what you think of my maths.”
“Wouldn’t be much use,” the Amazon shrugged. “When it comes to mathematics I have to admit you are my superior.… What conclusion have you come to?”
“One very clear one. That the curious magnetism it seems to emit is an illusory one. Viewing the planet, we feel drawn towards it. There is a conviction of happiness about it—as though everything that happened on that world is of the sheerest joy. But it’s wrong, you know. Utterly wrong.”
“How—wrong?”
“It is emanating a series of radiations, most of which I can’t classify, and one of them has the effect of gearing up our nerves to intense exhilaration. Same as drink and drugs do back on Earth in some measure. It isn’t genuine: it’s a physical reaction.”
The Amazon nodded thoughtfully, and then turned to the enormous observation window. Standing there, with the stars visible through the flawless glass behind her, she seemed to Abna like a goddess for a moment. Which, in a sense, she was. The most extraordinary woman ever born on Earth, she was now the leader of the Cosmic Crusaders, a quartet committed to the self-imposed task of bringing scientific knowledge and uplift to distant worlds, a quartet comprised of herself, her husband, her daughter Viona, and Mexone—Viona’s husband. And it was the fact of being a Cosmic Crusader that caused the Amazon to now reflect deeply.
“Are we justified,” she asked presently, “in using our time and energies to explore a world that emits illusory waves? Would we be wasting our time?”
“Depends if the planet’s inhabited,” Abna answered. “Still more, it depends what sort of civilization—if any—is in existence there.”
“You haven’t seen any signs of civilization?”
“Not yet. We’re still too far away.” Abna rose and crossed over to the window. He put an arm about the Amazon’s shoulders and gazed with her into the incomprehensible deeps of space.
“We haven’t been traveling long toward that planet,” Abna added. “No more than two hours.”
The Amazon nodded silently. Her eyes were fixed on the world in question—a dazzlingly bright solitary point, with no trace of a sun near it. Its brilliance was such that Venus, when seen from Earth, would have been but a candle flame by comparison.
“Strange what a tremendous albedo it has,” the Amazon mused, lapsing into the technical term for light-reflection. “Considering that there is no sun near it.”
Abna nodded absently, then he gave a start. Something was coming in sight in the void ahead, a little to the left of the solitary mystery planet. In a matter of seconds the ‘something’ had transformed itself into a stupendous brilliance, growing ever brighter. Before long it had paled even the bright planet.
“What is it?” the Amazon asked in surprise, narrowing her eyes.
Abna gave no immediate answer. Instead he hurried to the nearby wall rack, took down a couple of pairs of blue goggles, and handed one pair to the Amazon. Their eyes thus protected, the two studied the phenomenon.
“Now I get it,” Abna said finally. “There is a sun lighting that planet—and that blinding spot of light is it. Up to now it was eclipsed from our view because of some dark world in between. Now it’s moved aside, we can see the sun clearly.”
Such indeed seemed to be the case. The sun of the mystery bright world was only a small one—but of tremendously intense power. Abna studied it in puzzlement for a while, then crossed to the instrument panel. In a moment he switched on an automatic analyzer. The Amazon, pushing her goggles up on to her forehead, came across and joined him, watching the faintly humming machinery intently.
“Now let’s see.…” Abna looked at a display on the instrument, frowning over the readings.
“High magnesium content,” the Amazon commented. “That accounts for the brilliance.”
“Accounts for the sun, yes—but not for the planet. Magnesium only reveals its brilliance when in the gaseous flame state. Normally it is gray and has hardly any albedo. Must be something else to account for the planet’s brightness.”
Returning her goggles to her eyes, the Amazon went back to the window.
“Obviously,” she said at length, “that sun is nearer to us than the planet—in fact, it has to be, otherwise the planet would be half- or quarter-lighted. And it isn’t. The whole disc is illuminated.”
“And apparently there are no other planets in the system,” Abna added. “That in itself is queer. A one-planet system—or two-, if we count that hulk which was causing the eclipse—is something we haven’t come across yet. Wonder where the others are?”
The Amazon shrugged. “Since we can’t answer that, let’s concentrate on what we’ve got. Any chance of telescopic examination?”
“Certainly; but I think we’d better wait until we’re a bit nearer. We’re 120 million miles away. I’ll put on speed and bring our wondering to an end.”
When presently they had crossed the orbit of the dead planet, which had formerly been eclipsing the sun, the Amazon turned.
“That definitely makes it a two-planet system, Abna. That planet, though, is just a burned-out hulk of rock without any air or water. Wonder what happened to devastate it to that extent?”
Abna did not answer. He was too busy focusing the powerful telescope. At length he got it to his liking, and a blurry image came into view on the scanning screen. A twist of a knob and the view was sharply defined.
“Come and look,” he said briefly, and the Amazon moved to his side.
Silent, they stood surveying the mystery world, the glare of the sun rending the left-hand side misty and indistinct. But they could see enough, such as is was. There seemed to be thousands of tiny squares in the midst of an intolerably bright sea, squares that made neither sense nor reason.
“Any suggestions?” the Amazon asked presently, her eyes beginning to ache with the glare.
“Not yet. Those blobs in an apparently molten sea don’t make any sense—unless they’re mountains or something. Try later when we’re still nearer.”
“If the planet’s molten, it’s no use carrying on,” the Amazon said. “Anyway, we’ll see what happens.”
This they did, in another two hours when they had come measurably nearer the planet. A second telescopic observation was made, and this time it was perfectly clear that the planet was not molten, but covered with some brilliantly gleaming substance. By this time the various squares and queer formations had resolved themselves into buildings—of sorts. Queer sort of buildings, mainly square and very crude. If there were any inhabitants, the distance was still too great for the telescope to pick them up.
“Atmosphere’s all right,” the Amazon said, busy with the analyzer. “About the same as Earth. So also is the gravity. The only thing against our landing on that world is the glare. Think we’ll be able to stand it? Even at this distance we need these blue goggles.”
Abna did not answer the question directly. Instead he said: “The more I study this world the more sure I become that it’s made of some precious metal—eroded and polished to enormous brilliance by the action of wind and weather. And the metal, I think, is silver.”
The Amazon reflected. “Well, it’s possible, I suppose. We can find out when we land—if our eyes will stand it. How long before we touch down?”
“About three hours. We’d better tell Viona and Mexone, then they can be ready.”
The Amazon duly alerted the two, who were deeply sleeping. Presently they came into the control room and without pause, crossed to the observation window, to immediately recoil from it at the terrific glare that smote their eyes.
Viona gasped. “That planet’s just like a huge mirror reflecting the sunlight.”
“Pretty nearly,” Abna agreed, handing over two pairs of goggles. “With a combination of a magnesium-rich sun and a silver world, you’re bound to get plenty of brilliance.”
“Silver?” Mexone repeated in surprise.
“To the best of my belief, yes. I think that planet—the surface anyway—is entirely composed of it—and polished, too, with wind action.”
Viona and Mexone turned back to an examination of the world toward which the Ultra was swiftly speeding. Presently the Amazon also came into the control room, a weapon belt now buckled around her slender waist.
“I don’t know if there’s life, but there’s nothing like being prepared,” she explained, then she crossed to the telescope, focused it swiftly, and stood looking at the reflector-screen.
This time the crude buildings were much clearer, and now the distance had diminished, there were also signs of specks. Sometimes they were in considerable numbers, sometimes isolated. What was immediately apparent was their movement.
“Life!” the Amazon announced. “Beings of some sort. From the way they congregate and the sort of buildings they have, I’d say nomadic tribes.”
Pushing up their goggles, Viona and Mexone swiftly joined her. In silent interest they both took in the view reflected in the screen.
“Whether it’s worth visiting or not I still don’t know,” the Amazon said finally, at which Viona looked up sharply.
“No question of it, surely? Even if we don’t advance these people materially, we’re adding to our store of knowledge, and that’s something. Besides, it’ll save us dying of boredom.”
“I don’t think we’ll ever do that,” Abna commented dryly.
“Conditions, except for the light, are favorable for exploration,” the Amazon said, and outlined what she and Abna had already discovered about the planet.
“And the only other planet in the system is burned out?” Viona asked, puzzled.
“Entirely. Even more of a hulk than our moon is.”
“Wonder why? May be a simple explanation—or a grim one.” Suddenly she swung eagerly to Abna. “Hurry up, dad, and let’s land! I’m sure there’ll be something interesting.”
“You mean you think there will,” Abna corrected. “At the moment you’re experiencing an unusually high elation—but it’s only superficial. Doesn’t mean a thing.”
“Oh?” Viona’s sapphire blue eyes clouded for a moment. “Well, if it’s only phony, it’s certainly got a kick. I feel on top of the world—which sounds rather idiotic way out in the Milky Way,” she concluded, smiling.
“Better arm yourselves,” the Amazon instructed. “There may be trouble. In any case, there’s no sense in being unprepared.”
Viona and Mexone both nodded, and for the next few moments were busy strapping instrument and weapon belts about their waists. Then Viona looked in surprise as the Amazon held out two pairs of goggles.
“From the look of things you’re going to need them,” she explained. “In fact, we all are. The glare reflected from snow is mere twilight compared to this lot.”
Silently the two younger ones slipped the goggles on to their foreheads; then spent the rest of the time just waiting. Abna remained at the control board while the Amazon, her goggles in place, stared down on that incredibly bright world and tried at the same time to fathom her emotions. Had she been a normal woman, she would have realized that she had risen to the point of almost hysterical ecstasy—an abandoned sense in which nothing mattered. Being possessed of a coldly scientific streak, however, she analyzed the condition for what it was and refused to let herself be misled by its promptings. Just the same, she was puzzled.
So presently the Ultra, its velocity lowered to normal flying speed, came into the atmosphere of the planet and thereafter swiftly cleaved downwards toward the brilliant landscape. The Amazon, Viona, and Mexone watched intently, goggles in position, as an agglomeration of the crudely fashioned dwellings came into view.
“Queer sort of planet,” the Amazon commented thoughtfully. “It has a revolution of roughly twenty-two hours: I’ve checked on that, so we’ll get some relief from the glare when the night comes. But as to the landscape, words fail me. Now we’re so near it seems certain that everything except the dwellings is silver.”
“Be worth a bit back home,” Viona mused.
“I wonder,” the Amazon reflected. “Dump this much silver on the markets of the world and the stuff would not be worth a cent. Remember, it is rarity that makes for value.”
With a mighty rushing of air against the invincible outer walls, the machine hurtled downwards and over the first mass of buildings and came to rest. Once it touched ground, it noticeably slithered like a car on a wet roadway. Then with a jerk it halted.
Silence. The power plant was cut off and from outside there were no sounds. The four crowded around the observation window, gazing at the distant remnants of the crude buildings. They were little better than cottages, or even mid-African villages. Certainly they did not suggest a high form of civilization. Behind them, glittering mountains rose up like creations of a wonderland, with a cobalt blue cloudless sky beyond.
“Pretty—but confoundedly bright,” Viona muttered. Then she lifted her goggles and looked with her normal eves. The glare was hurtful but not so penetrating as she had expected.
Seeing her action, the Amazon, Abna, and Mexone followed suit, then glanced at each other in surprise.
“No worse than white pavements at high noon,” the Amazon said at length “Wonder why? In space we couldn’t stand to even look at it.”
The Amazon seemed about to make further comment, then she stopped herself as the first evidences of life on this queer world became evident. In the far distance, coming from the direction of the dwellings, was a running horde of people, advancing with all the excitement and energy of savages on the warpath. Yet, in a sense, they did not appear savage: quite the contrary. There was a certain childlike enthusiasm about their activity as they swept nearer and nearer.
In a very few minutes they had reached the Ultra and begun to assemble around it. More came from the distance, until at last there must have been several hundred. In silence the quartet looked out on them from the higher elevation of the observation window.
“For some reason,” the Amazon said, “I’m reminded of one Gulliver on the island of Lilliput.’”
There was a certain amount of logic in her simile. The people were all small-statured, yet exactly like Earth people in their formation. Their attire was extremely scanty, but in certain cases was embellished with crude armlets and anklets of the all-prevailing silver metal. In actual appearance they were somehow immature—with smooth, laughing faces and hair crudely cut. At the moment they seemed to be having a good deal of amusement prancing around the machine and grinning and gesticulating to one another.
“They are not mature people,” the Amazon said at length, with a trace of disappointment. “They’re behaving exactly like ten-year-old children. I had somehow hoped for clever scientists. I suppose we must stay here?”
“All the more reason why we should, I think,” Viona commented. “Their development is such as to show that they are adult, both the men and the women—but their intelligence doesn’t match it. Seems to me it’s up to us to find out why.”
“Childlike adults on a world of silver,” Abna sighed. “What next, I wonder?” He moved to the airlock switch. “All right, here we go!”
The ponderous airlock swung open very slowly, and the four made to stride forward—but that was as far as they got. Like children suddenly told of a candy horde, the little people came surging into the ship, laughing and chattering amongst themselves, until the control room was full of them. It left the quartet towering up like islands amidst a flood, and for a moment they stood watching curiously, weighing up these beings of a fantastic planet.
Children with adult bodies! There was no getting away from it. They were mature all right, yet their actions and emotions were miles behind their physical development.
They seemed quite suddenly to become aware of the visitors and when they did so they fell back quickly, as though realizing they had in some way perhaps committed an indiscretion. Big-eyed and wondering, they stood waiting—crowding out through the airlock into the brilliantly sunny spaces outside.
“Friends,” Abna said deliberately, pointing to himself and then the others. “We come as friends. Can you understand me?”
Apparently not, from the blank looks that greeted him. And, typically childlike, one or two of the little people giggled to themselves, either at the heavy timbre of Abna’s voice, or else his enormous height.
“Kids!” the Amazon sighed regretfully. “I think we ought to be on our way, Abna. We’re not school teachers.”
“We haven’t finished yet,” Abna responded. “Just because our experiences up to now have brought us into contact with highly developed civilizations, it’s no reason for ignoring one that’s exactly the opposite.… Anyway, the language difficulty is no problem. Viona, switch on the Educator.”
Viona reached out a slim hand and obliged. The eyes of the little people immediately turned to one of the countless machines ranged against the wall—and in particular to one that resembled a gigantic helmet with a chair fixed beneath it.
“Exchange information?” the Amazon questioned. “Force our language upon them?”
“Exactly.” Abna nodded briefly; then suddenly he lunged out and caught one of the little men by the arm. It was simple to force him, obviously not a little frightened, to the chair beneath the instrument. Clamps dropped in place and prevented him from escaping.
“No harm intended,” Abna smiled at him, and though he knew his words were unintelligible, they seemed nevertheless to have an effect, for the little man relaxed and waited.
“Right,” Abna nodded, and again Viona reached to the control panel and applied the power. There was no sound save a faint humming, but all the time it persisted the quartet knew that every detail of their own basic language was being engraved indelibly on the little man’s brain—a fact quite obvious from the astounded expression on his face. He was no longer frightened, but bewildered.
Abna signaled, and the hum of power ceased. The little man sat limply in his chair, not unconscious but with all the fight and energy knocked out of him.
“You are not hurt, my friend?” Abna asked quietly; and the big blue eyes turned to him.
“No—not hurt.” The words were used awkwardly, and plainly for the first time. “I am wondering what miracle it is that enables you to do this to me—to transfer your language into my brain without the need of learning.”
“That is but one of the many miracles of which we are capable, my friend. As you will have gathered, we are from another world, and we come peacefully to exchange information with you.”
The little man nodded slowly and then looked at his gaping colleagues. Men and women alike were watching in dazed silence.
“From what world do you come?” the little man asked.
“Far away, my friend—many light-years. It is not important. Your world attracted us, so we came to it. We would like to know more about it.”
“There is not much to tell. This planet is called Tuca, and we are the descendants of the Asronians, a race of great scientists who unfortunately were a trifle too brilliant for their own good.”
Abna frowned with sudden interest. Holding out his hand, he helped the little man from his chair to a standing position, and seemingly conscious that he alone had been singled out for the great moment, the little man stood erect and proud.
“My name is Doxa,” he said, and inclined his head of thick woolly black hair in a slight obeisance.
“Abna, the Golden Amazon, Viona, and Mexone,” Abna said, indicating his own quartet. “Now we understand each other better. It would seem there is a good deal more you can tell me, Doxa—if you will.”
“It will be a pleasure, wondrous stranger—but first I would make a request. Might others of my fellows, men and women, undergo the marvelous language experience that they, too, might converse? My own particular friends?”
Abna smiled an acknowledgement, thereupon Doxa reverted to his own language and singled out half a dozen men and women from the assembly. Each in turn underwent the rigors of the Educator and emerged wide-eyed and knowledgeable.
“That’s all?” Abna asked, looking at the three men and three women; then at Doxa.
“That is enough,” Doxa said ambiguously. “Were I to include any more they would know as much as I do, and that would not be sensible. My friends and I, having now the power to converse with you, have also the control of our fellows.”
Abna nodded slowly. “Because you have the knowledge? I understand.”
“We have needed something like this,” Doxa said slowly. “Something that would give to one of us—or a picked body of us—a little extra knowledge, thereby making it right that we should be rulers. Up to now nobody has ruled, and the outcome has been something approaching chaos.”
“Which you can remedy?” the Amazon inquired.
“Exactly. But come with me, friends, and consider yourselves entirely welcome. Your machine will be perfectly safe.”
Although Abna was reasonably sure of the fact, he did not neglect to leave the controls completely locked: then he watched as the crowd of little men and women filed out through the airlock.
“Any idea what we’re getting into?” the Amazon asked.
“Not the slightest—but if we can’t deal with an army of pygmies if they get tough, we must be slipping. Let’s go.”
With that Abna followed the crowd through the glare of the magnesium sunlight. He took one fleeting glimpse of it sailing, at the zenith in the cobalt sky. Then he began to follow the chattering, laughing crowd across the metallic plain in the direction of the crudely built buildings. Almost in the center of them stood a massive, tall needle of silver with a ledge near its top. Perhaps it was an observation post, some kind of totem pole, or even a pagan god. It was difficult to say.
“I think you’re right about this stuff being silver,” Viona said, coming up. “It’s incredible, but true.”
“Might take that pillar away with us against a rainy day,” Abna chuckled; then he caught the Amazon’s cold, disapproving glance.
“For a man many times a multimillionaire that’s a crazy remark,” she commented. “That exhilaration radiation must be working overtime on you.”
“It is,” Abna admitted. “I see no particular reason to resist it, either. I feel most remarkably cheerful, and it’s obvious that these child-people feel likewise. If this planet were not so far from Earth it would make an excellent health resort.”
The Amazon closed the distance between herself and Abna and then she lowered her voice a little.
“Did you make anything of Doxa’s remark that these people—and himself—are descendants of the Asronians?”
“I made nothing of it at all. Maybe we will later.”
And Abna did not attempt to concentrate any further. Nor for that matter did the Amazon. The curious exhilaration that the planet produced made anything concentrative too much effort. It was so much easier to succumb and let things be.
Finally, somewhat dazzled by the brilliance of the metal plain, the party reached the outermost of the odd-looking buildings, and here Doxa called a halt. He shouted a few words to the crowd, with the result that they all dispersed quickly to different buildings—then, with his six colleagues on either side of him, he faced the travelers.
“I would suggest that we dine and confer at the same time,” he said. “This is my home, to which you are fully welcome.”
His choice of words in the language that had been ‘wished’ on him was somewhat peculiar but the meaning was clear. And his pomp and ceremony was also almost amusing. Abna and the Amazon nodded gravely and stepped into the low-roofed dwelling, with Viona and Mexone close behind them.
Within, the habitation was surprisingly roomy, though the roof was low. There was a small amount of fairly earthly looking furniture, and the walls were crudely decorated. The surprising thing was that the edifice was built of timber—very roughly and amateurishly built, too—and not of the all-prevailing silver. Two windows gave adequate illumination, considering the tremendous power of the external sunlight.
“Be seated,” Doxa invited, with a flourish—and after some maneuvering of the odd chairs, the quartet managed to fix themselves up. Doxa waited until they were seated, then he gave a sign that promptly caused his six followers to sit cross-legged on the wooden floor. The resemblance to children playing some kind of game at a party could not be avoided.
“Now you shall have food, my friends,” Doxa decided, and going to the door of his dwelling he gave an all-powerful cry in his own language. This done, he returned and sat cross-legged at the head of his retinue.
“I appoint myself as leader, therefore I shall do the talking,” he said, with a cherubic smile. “We, the Asronians, have never had a leader before. Leadership comes by knowing something more than the next man, by being singled out for a certain purpose. I have been thus singled out; therefore, I shall be leader.”
At the close of this speech he looked around on his followers as though expecting dissent, but none came. Satisfied, he folded his arms and endeavored to look dignified. The effect was somewhat seriocomic.
“Speak, travelers from a distant world. What do you wish to know?”
“You speak of yourselves as ‘descendants’,” Abna said slowly. “What happened to your predecessors?”
“Originally,” Doxa said, “there was the most powerful race of scientists in the Universe on this planet. If that sounds ego—ego—” He hesitated over the word, then took a deep breath. “If that sounds egotistical, it is not meant to. They were geniuses, every man and woman of them. But too clever for their own good.”
Doxa paused and froze into silence as two women appeared with food on trays. Strangely enough, it was meat, though there had as yet been no sign of animals around. There were implements to eat it with, and a kind of wine. The trays were set down on the floor and the women departed.
“I trust our food is correct for your type of physique,” Doxa remarked anxiously, and waited while Abna tested it.
“Yes—excellent,” Abna smiled. “Our thanks to you, Doxa, though we are wondering where the meat came from.”
“A small animal much prevalent in the underground,” Doxa explained. “Our main staple meat diet. The animals multiply very rapidly, except when the giant beasts arouse themselves and enjoy an orgy of destruction.”
Since the four had not the least idea what Doxa was talking about, they let the matter drop and tackled the food. And very palatable it proved to be.
“You were saying,” the Amazon remarked, “that your ancestors were geniuses.”
“Ah, yes. Not so very long ago, either—certainly within the memory of the oldest of us here—the race flourished. This world and the neighbor world of Antara were thickly populated, and housed many wonderful scientific machines.”
“And then?” Abna prompted, as there was a long silence.
“Then something happened. On both Antara and here there was a devastating explosion, followed by devouring fire, which generated overwhelming heat. Antara was totally destroyed and is now nothing but a burned-out hulk. On this world the great cities and machines of metal were melted level with the ground, which accounts for our metallic crust. Out of the holocaust only a few survived. They were numb with shock, and no longer possessed of tremendous genius. A few of them babbled of an experiment to change the probability of electronic waves, but that fact did not mean anything to anybody.…” Doxa shrugged.
“The survivors soon died off, leaving behind the children who grew to maturity. Us!” he concluded, and gave his broad, infantile smile.
“Change the probability of electronic waves,” the Amazon repeated thoughtfully. “And did they succeed in doing this?”
“I believe not. Something went wrong, which accounted for the terrifying fire and wholesale destruction.…” Doxa became thoughtful for a moment and seemed to be making an effort to think and speak maturely. “It was, so to speak, an experiment by a race which had achieved absolute perfection. Absolute perfection had caused boredom, the lack of anything fresh to conquer. Being dissatisfied with this state of affairs, the idea of changing electronic probability was conceived—with diabolic results. The race just vanished.”
“And you made no endeavor to emulate the mighty feats of your ancestors?” Abna inquired. “You prefer to live as children, without a single responsibility?”
Doxa giggled. “We do, yes. We have constructed our dwellings, which, though crude, are serviceable in a climate that never alters. We have food and drink enough, so why should we saddle ourselves with responsibility and knowledge? Then there is always the feeling of elation, the feeling of perfect health, the absolute sureness that all is well.”
Obviously, Doxa had not tumbled to the fact that there was a curious radiation about the planet that caused this high-springing of the emotions. Even more obviously, he had never attempted to keep the feeling under control.
“And finally,” Doxa finished, “there is always the transport of the gods. If they smile upon us, there comes a time when we are lifted away to Paradise, never even tasting the anguish of death.”
His giggling ceased as he spoke and a curious expression came to his face. At the same moment the quartet looked up sharply, all of them sensing a mysterious tension in the atmosphere. They could not quite pinpoint what it was—even less where it came from, but one thing they did know.
Doxa was becoming transparent! Even as he sat there his solid little form misted, became ghostly, and then he was gone. His colleagues looked for a moment at the spot where he had been—their faces frozen into complete immobility, then with one accord they all scrambled from their squatting positions and bowed in deep obeisance to the blank spot where Doxa had been seated.
