Invaders from Nowhere

Chapter I. The Crusading Alans

WILLARD BUTLAND did not yet know about the Alans as he surveyed Antonio's with riotous distaste. The proprietor had called the restaurant that to distinguish it from the seven Manhattan restaurants named Tony's. Butland would have called the place a den of iniquity—or perhaps a sink of iniquity; more picturesque—except for the fact that the word "iniquity" was, to his lay friends and acquaintances in the States, a comic one. This fact distressed Willard Butland. To him, iniquity was not at all a light matter. He often wrestled with his soul on the question, to why resolved: that is was unreasonable to spend his young life carrying the gospel to the heathen of India when so many of his godless fellow-Americans were in obviously greater need of it.

For instance, he thought, coughing from the smoke of the vile weed, there was his cousin Rex Piper across the table. Rex Piper was tall, thin, and dark, whereas Willard Butland was of medium height, plump, and sandy, with adolescent freckles lingering on a stub-nose of the kind one sees on funny-paper characters. Rex Piper would have called Antonio's a joint or dive, though the place with its orderly clientele and handsome modern furnishings did not deserve such contumely.

Rex Piper looked up from his highball and said: "Hi, Kitty!"

A tall, professionally good-looking brunette came over and sat down. She said: "Hello, Rex." She looked at Willard Butland's glass of milk and added: "So I'm not the only milk-drinker. Order me one too, Rex darling."

Piper introduced his cousin to Miss Kitty Blake. He added in a stage-whisper: "Her name's really Ophelia but people make too many jokes about it."

Butland frowned in honest puzzlement."I think Ophelia's a pretty name, and I don't see how anyone could make a joke out of it." He said hopefully to the girl: "You don't drink?"

"No. I'm in the stage-show at the Megapolitan, and I have to keep in shape. But just you wait till my vacation!"

"Oh," said Butland."I thought you might have a higher reason."

The girl looked at him, then at Piper. She said: "Say, what is he?"

"Will's an authority on Sin."

"Really?" said Kitty."That must be interesting. Mr. Butland, what kinds have you tried lately?"

Willard Butland reddened. Piper said: "He doesn't practice Sin; at least he's never been caught at it. He tries to extirpate it. Missionary. We were arguing on the subject of Sin when you came in. You know: If God made everything, and if everything He made was good, how come Sin into God's good world?"

"I told you," said Butland patiently, "God made man capable of choosing between good and evil, so he has a chance to earn his salvation—"

"Good Mohammedan doctrine" said Piper.

"Mohammedan!" said Butland."The only good ideas those bloodthirsty heathens ever had were borrowed from Christianity—"

Then the Alans appeared, and neither the serious missionary nor the cynical chemist nor the blithe chorine thought about Sin for some time.

THE manner of the Alan's arrival was upsetting: one minute they were not there; the next they were, in a solemn black-and-white row on the unoccupied half of the red imitation-leather crescent around the table.

The three newcomers were about the size of people, and had a similar number of most things. They had projecting, upturned noses and hairless tails. They wore shoes on their feet, gloves on their four digit-hands, and large muffs on their ears. The effect was strikingly like that of a trio of Mickey Mice.

One of the things said: "Holl dool youl dool?"

Butland asked the girl: "Do you see them too?"

"I'm afraid so. Maybe we'd better ask Rex."

"He can't help. He's been drinking."

"Drinking!" snorted Piper."One highball, and he calls it drinking—"

The thing repeated: "Holl dool youl dool?"

"Uh—very well, thanks," said Piper."And you?"

The thing hesitated. It unzippered a pocket in what appeared to be its skin, and brought out a small book. It leafed through this, and replied: "Very vell, I thank youl. Is this thee Earth?"

The waiter arrived with Kitty's milk. He set it down with obsequious cordiality. He had started to leave before he took a good look at the visitors. He continued to depart, but slowly, staring back "like one who on a lonely road doth walk in fear and dread..."

"Is this thee Earth?" repeated the thing.

"That's what we call it," said Piper.

"The city of Nil York?"

They nodded helplessly.

The thing studied its book, and said: "We are friends. See!" It opened another pocket in itself and brought out three small objects that looked like magnifying-glasses. It handed them around."These are for youl."

Butland put his glass to his eye. He almost dropped the object. The glass made everything seen through it semitransparent. The partition that separated their table from the next disappeared almost; Butland could see the people at the next table, and through them to the next, and so on until people, walls and furniture merged into a dim blur. Will Butland looked sideways through the glass at Kitty Blake. He quickly looked elsewhere, and worried a little about whether that look would damage his chances of salvation.

THE thing that had done all the talking asked: "Is this thee city with thee temple of Ng?" The last word was pronounced like "sing" without the "si."

Butland asked: "Who or what is Ng?"

Another thing, the smallest of the three, spoke up: "Ng is thee sovereign of thee ulniverse. He made thee egg from vich thee ulniverse was hatched, and himself brolke thee shell. In my humble vay I serve him—"

"Some false god of theirs," said Butland lightly."I'll—ouch!" He bent over and rubbed his shin and looked reproachfully at Rex Piper.

Piper said: "Would you mind telling us who and what you are?"

The giver of the glasses said: "I am Zrap. Ve are Alans."

Kitty Blake said: "I thought Alans were members of a Scythian tribe whose descendants live in the Caucasus Mountains."

"What?" cried Butland."How would you happen to know that?"

She turned on him."So because I dance for a living, you don't think I know anything, Mr. Butland? Thank you, I've got a degree from Radcliffe—"

"Here, here," said Piper."Let's let our friends go on with their story."

Zrap continued: "Ve are from thee planet Ala. Since in thee English language youl make Culbans from Culba and Australians from Australia, ve thought you vould understand if ve made Alans from Ala. Ve are traveling throughl thee serial ulniverses, and ve stopped at this one because ve vere told that Ng is vorshipped here. This—" He indicated the middle-sized Alan "is Vlik, whool represents our government. This—" He indicated the smallest Alan, "is Sfong. He is vot—hoo—wot—what you vould call a missionary." As they talked, the Alans' accents rapidly disappeared.

Butland started off: "We've got enough false g—" before another kick from Piper silenced him.

"Where's this Ala?" asked Kitty.

"Right here," said Zrap.

"I don't see it."

"Of course you do not. It is in one term of the series of universes, just as the Earth is in another. We, the Alans, knol holl—know how to pass from each term to the next. The natives of the different terms are often surprised to see us."

Kitty asked: "Is Zrap your full name, Mr. Zrap?"

"No, it is Zrap Hlef Pfiln Gofalt Rim Byelning Vrulk Hsingong Gzhipnik Srolb Ngulp Bvolndam Ringgup. That is a short name where we come from. Now, if you please, will you lead us to your Senator?"

The people frowned. Piper said: "Our senator? We've got two, Murray and Dahl, but they're not—"

Zrap continued unruffled: "We mean, the head officer of the Earth."

Piper answered: "No such thing. There were one or two guys who thought they'd like to be, but they're dead."

"You mean here is no one head officer of the planet? Then we will see the one who is head of this political unit."

Kitty said: "I'll have to leave; the next floor-show goes on pretty soon."

"No," said Zrap softly."You will not leave, madame." And the Alan looked at the girl. Kitty sat where she was. An expression of horror came over her face.

"Say," said Piper belligerently, "You can't—" The eyes were turned on him and on Butland. Willard Butland felt a fearful terror steal over him: a deadly, choking, nauseating fear that was all the worse for not being fear of any particular thing. After a few agonizing eras it left him.

Piper said feebly: "The government's in Washington."

"Then," purred the Alan, "you will take us to Washington."