A VOYAGE TO ARCTURUS (Sci-Fi Classic). David Lindsay

saw me, and made a wry grimace, like one who wishes to turn his humiliation into humour. The spectacle so astounded me that I could not even grasp what had happened.

      “‘I am Muremaker,’ he cried in a scraping voice which shocked my ears. ‘All my life I have sorbed others—now I am sorbed. Nuclamp and I fell out over a woman. Now Nuclamp holds me up like this. While the strength of his will lasts I shall remain suspended; but when he gets tired—and it can’t be long now—I drop into those depths.’

      “Had it been another man, I would have tried to save him, but this ogre-like being was too well known to me as one who passed his whole existence in tormenting, murdering, and absorbing others, for the sake of his own delight. I hurried away, and did not pause again that day.

      “In Poolingdred I met Joiwind. We walked and talked together for a month, and by that time we found that we loved each other too well to part.”

      Panawe stopped speaking.

      “That is a fascinating story,” remarked Maskull. “Now I begin to know my way around better. But one thing puzzles me.”

      “What’s that?”

      “How it happens that men here are ignorant of tools and arts, and have no civilisation, and yet contrive to be social in their habits and wise in their thoughts.”

      “Do you imagine, then, that love and wisdom spring from tools? But I see how it arises. In your world you have fewer sense organs, and to make up for the deficiency you have been obliged to call in the assistance of stones and metals. That’s by no means a sign of superiority.”

      “No, I suppose not,” said Maskull, “but I see I have a great deal to unlearn.”

      They talked together a little longer, and then gradually fell asleep. Joiwind opened her eyes, smiled, and slumbered again.