3
I kept still.
* * * * *
My little daughter had been playing in the room before she had unwillingly gone to bed. She had left a red rubber ball upon my desk.
"Look at the ball," the voices whispered. "We will give you an idea of the time-space in which we live."
I looked. Suddenly the little ball twitched, vanished and reappeared. I gazed in wonder. It had been red. Now it was white. I picked it up and a white powder rubbed off upon my fingertips.
"See." The lights whispered. "We have turned it inside out--"
The whispering continued.
* * * * *
"We are bringing you a gift. Our last gift, probably, because we are weary of your world and the affairs of men. Pygmies! Now, stand back from your desk--"
It was such a command that I fairly leaped out of my chair and drew away from the desk. Still leaning upon it I stared in wonder at the shadow which was forming itself upon the cleared space by the side of my typewriter. At first it was merely a dark square. Then it was a shadowy cube, growing denser all the time until it became a dim shape. The shape grew brighter. There was a tiny spitting sound, like two hot wires being touched together. There was a smell in the room, not unpleasant but not pleasant either--a completely alien smell. A wave of cold air struck me, and passed by, leaving me shivering. Our furnace came on with a start.
Then the lights were gone and I was looking in wonder at a leaden box, about a foot square. It had a hinged lid, and around the middle of it the figure of a snake was excellently carved. It held its tail in its mouth, locking the box securely. Its eyes were two great moonstones that appeared to look up at me with half-blind amusement--winking at the wisdom they had forgotten and the fear that I was feeling.
I touched the box and drew my hand away in pain. It was colder than cold. Desolate, burning cold.
It was two hours before the box became warm enough--or cool enough--to touch. Then, after several experime