Of all Terra's bloodily brawling billions, only
mighty scientist Jon Saxon sensed the Others.
Even as he swung his fists and dodged the tearing
dart guns, his skin crawled weirdly. Who—who—was
so coldly watching this war-torn, hell-bent planet?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Spring 1948.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
"Quiet!" Jon Saxon's voice was a breath in the night as he cautionedthe girl. A warning prickle of danger had run over his skin likegooseflesh. He was a big man, over six feet, with thick brawnyshoulders and arms like a blacksmith. Before the girl could cry out,Saxon swept her into the deep shadow of a doorway. His dark gray eyesprobed the street but he could see no one.
This seventh level thoroughfare of Adirondaka appeared utterlydeserted. Only occasional street lamps revealed glimpses of themagnificent architecture of the post-atom capitol of Earth. Down thecenter of the boulevard the public conveyor swept silently, endlesslywithout a passenger anywhere along its ribbon-like length.
"Where are they?" the girl whispered.
He shook his head. "I can't see them." But his skin continued toprickle its warning. Somewhere in the shadows were men, several ofthem, stalking him soundlessly.
He became aware of an alien quality about the figures ringing in himand the girl, figures he could sense but not see. Still nothing movedin the street. The girl, he realized, was strangely quiescent.
Then, sharp as speech, her thought impinged on Jon Saxon'sconsciousness. "The fools! And after I told Emil not to let them crowdhim!"
Jon Saxon's eyes narrowed. So the girl thought the invisible figureswere G.A.'s men. He had known, of course, from their first meetingthat the girl was a General Atomic spy. But by not so much as a hinthad he let her suspect that her very thoughts betrayed her.
The tingling sensation intensified, warned him that the shadows wereclosing in. The feel of alienism was stronger, as if they were notquite human. His heart pumped faster, the pulse throbbing in his ears.
The moon was rising, he saw, competing indifferently with the streetlights. Its rays streamed down through the ninety-eight levels of thecapitol, down through crystal plastic roadways into the dense blacknessof the pit itself.
Again he became aware of the girl's thought, "Why, there's nothinghere! He's imagining things!" It was accompanied by a wave of relief,and at the same time she whispered,
"What is it Jon? What do you see?"
"Hold it, Ileth!"
His hands gripped her slender shoulders, silenced her. The publicconveyor still swept past without a sound.
Bewilderment grew in him.
The alien entities were close, all about them, apparently withoutsubstance. The tingling sensations were like hot and cold flashesnow, signaling him of something present, something which he couldn'tidentify.
They were not the girl's men, whatever she thought. He would haverecognized them by their feel.
No, these escaped classification. He had never experienced anythinglike them before. His strange sixth sense, the first extra-human sensewhich he had begun to develop inexplicably in his twenty seventh year,could perceive nothing beyond their presence.
He took his hand from Ileth's shoulders, groped for the buttoncontrolling the door against which they crouched.
"Stop!"
The thought rang like a bell in his skull.
Jon Saxon stiffened. "What is it?" he concentrated. "Who are you?"
...