It would be a fair world. It has oceans and
continents and strings of foam-girt islands. But its sea is strange and
dark and restless. Gigantic tides surge in its depths, drawn by the
planetary colossus about which it swings. Its animal life--."
"Cut," said Cochrane dryly. "What do you really think? Could it be
another inhabitable world for people to move to?"
Jamison looked annoyed at having been cut off.
"Probably," he said more prosaically. "The tides would be monstrous,
though."
"Might be used for power," said Cochrane. "We'll see ..."
Then Jones spoke with elaborate casualness:
"Here's something to look at. On the ground."
Cochrane moved to see. The dusk had deepened still more. The smooth,
green-covered ground had become a dark olive. Where bare hillsides gave
upon the sky, there were dark masses flowing slowly forward. The edges
of the hills turned black, and the blackness moved down their nearer
slopes. It was not an even front of darkness. There were patches which
preceded the others. They did not stay distinct. They merged with the
masses which followed them, and other patches separated in their places.
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