Astounding Science Fiction (British edition) — page 91: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

COMMENCEMENT NIGHT 89 Someone was coming. Ted heard them now, too. The islanders! And they were sing- ing. A soft, happy song, filled with humor and expectation that was often sung before a celebration. It served to remind Ted of a question. “By the way, I suppose not even their music is theirs?” Without looking away from the on- coming crowd, Eren Tu admitted that an early visitor had carelessly under- estimated the islander’s hearing abil- ity, and had allowed his craft’s com- munication set to play too loudly. “That song they’re doing now is based on a melody popular twenty years ago in my star system. It’s a distinct im- provement on the original, though.” They were closer now, and Ted could see that in keeping with their song, they had bedecked themselves with gay garlands of flowers. Even the vanguard of scampering children wore blossoms of jasmine in their hair. He began to recognize individual members of the party: “Old” Emo, with the coral scars about his rugged shoulders. Nea, the girl he had watched when he came on duty. The small blond lad who had given the first warning of the meteorite. Crippled Tumo, the young spear maker. And over three hundred others in a long singing, laughing file that wound down and out of sight into the darkness of the valley. Quite a turnout for a couple of hours before dawn. Why? Doc Finley and the techs on duty in the View Room must be having fits, Ted imagined. Probably think the islanders have. come to greet me. Surreptitiously he checked the screen on the two-way. Still dark. He hoped someone would have guts and presence of mind enough to sneak a cameraman out and up into the hill- top nearby. If the world had proof of Eren Tu’s visit— But then what? A soul-corroding frustration at being left out, unwanted? The first of the children came up to them now. They formed a ragged ring about the two men; shy, giggling, or wide-eyed, according to their natures. Ted’s gaze sought out the little blond youngster who had starred in the la- goon episode. “Hello, son,”’ he smiled. “‘T’m Ted. I’ve forgotten your name.” “Lute. What’s the matter in your head?’ “Huh?” Ted’s hand went to his hair. “In? Or on?’’ The child made a disapproving sound. “You sit wrong.” Leaving Ted to chew this over, he turned to watch his elders arrive. A tall Latinish man, one of the original “children,” Ted recalled, greeted Eren Tu cordially. “Your happiness is mine,’’ Eren Tu observed, taking in the growing crowd with his eyes. ““This is the important happening that was foretold?” “Yes.” The dark islander walked abruptly over to Ted. “We will be- come good friends,” he said. It was not a question, nor a command. Simply a statement. He looked earnestly across at Eren Tu. “He sits in the wrong place, doesn’t he.” Ted’s head began to ache. “That’s the second time it’s been mentioned. Explain, please.’ He pressed his temples. “Ted Jepson,” called the man from the stars excitedly. “‘They tell me your men from below will be coming out of the hilltop.” “That’s right,” added the tall islander. “‘I have seen only a little of it, and I could not tell when it would take place, but Lute and Nea and others of the young ones say it will be very soon. It will be after you have taken up that object’’—he pointed at the two-way—“‘and speak into it.” “But he can’t do that,” protested conniiclooolks.conn