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"What?" I asked, wondering.
The cave was like a bottle of blackness. I could see nothing of my
companion, not even his head and shoulders which must have been thrust
rather sharply forward.
"The Nobles," said the prospector. "I thought perhaps you had seen a
Noble."
The presentiment of movement had become a distant murmur, and my hand
against the cave wall could detect a soft, smooth trembling.
"No, I didn't see a Noble," I answered. "In fact, I've never seen a
Noble."
"Nor I," said J. J. Abrogado.
There was silence again. It lasted for long minutes. There was nothing
in my universe but the solidity of cave wall and floor; and in the
background the growing murmur of the nightrunners.
"I've seen a man who saw a Noble, though," I said at last. "What was
left of him they brought into the base hospital at Marsport on a rubber
blanket, and placed in a tub. Nothing was missing, but he was peeled."
I might just as well have said 'shelled' or 'husked', as if something
had tried to turn him inside out.
The murmur was now the sound of a rising tide.
The man I had seen in the tub had been one of the few "missing men" who
had been found. The others had never been seen again. They had been
archeologists, exploring isolated Martian ruins or prospectors, seeking
precious metals....
As if aware of my thoughts, Abrogado said: "Most of the missing were
prospectors. I'm a prospector."
Instantly I regretted having contributed anything about Nobles to the
conversation. I remembered all the stories I had ever heard about
Martian prospectors gone mad. And here was one seemingly obsessed
with the fear of falling into the two-fingered hands of the strange
creatures from outer space.
My eyes were as accustomed now to the blackness as they would ever be,
and still I could see virtually nothing of my companion except for a
slight lessening of the darkness mirrored in his eyes occasionally. But
that lessening gave me two items of information: He was about my height
and he was looking directly at me.
"The Nobles," said Abrogado in his toneless voice. "Man knows almost
nothing of them, as they can stop their hearts at will, and so are
never captured alive.
"We can only be sure that they are stately, regal creatures, fifteen
feet high who walk always with grace and dignity. Proud, sensitive,
steeped in tradition that is the impression one gains of them. But
it's hard to understand how such remote, godlike beings whose lives
should be devoted to beauty remain continually preoccupied with death.
"But then, standards vary, and what Earthman can say what is truly
beautiful, what is truly ugly? Perhaps the Nobles evoke strange
and somber rhythms from human diaphragms, play great symphonies of
attenuated delight upon the nerves of living creatures."
Whatever else Abrogado had to say was submerged in a great flood of
sound. Outside, a hundred thousand ostrich-like creatures were racing
madly through the night, their thick legs drumming against the desert
sands. The cave was filled with the echoing thunder of their passing.
If it hadn't been for them I would have flung myself out of the cave
to avoid sharing for another moment the company of the mad prospector.
But nothing could stand before the impact of that terrible explosive
migration, which had mystified zoologists for so many years.
Actually, I was being needlessly alarmed. After all, I was armed.
What did I have to fear from a moonstruck old man? Nevertheless, I
had an uneasy picture of him standing near, waiting for the turmoil
to subside, his face gaunt and shadowed by a heavy beard. For once I
wished I had the Noble's ability to see in the dark.
Minutes passed while the drumming drained slowly away.
"I'm glad that's over," said Abrogado. "I have some questions to ask
you. I have been isolated in the desert for many months. You are the
first human I have seen for a long while."
"Go ahead," I said, absently.
I was wondering just how the missing prospectors had been trapped. I
pictured Nobles crouching in a cave, waiting for one of the poor devils
to enter. But that wasn't likely. Their bodies were formed of large
cartilage-like sections which were too rigid to permit them to crouch
or kneel. Physiologically, they had but two choices: to draw themselves
up to their full height of fifteen feet, or to lie flat upon the
ground.
In reply to Abrogado's questions, I chatted lightly about the new shops
and homes, and the population figures as shown in the latest census of