A STRANGE VISITOR

  The country was clearing, and I came to the edge of a large natural open glade, where I stopped short. Astonishment halted me in my tracks. There in the center, or rather almost taking up the entire clearing from one side to the other, reposed a giant construction. It was cylindrical in section, and of the same general design as a torpedo, except that it had two conical ends. It was fully a thousand feet long and perhaps fifty feet in diameter.

  I did not stop to conjecture about the whys and wherefores of this strange thing. After my first surprise I walked up to examine it. It was glossy white, and seemed to have a glasslike finish, and it was opaque. I discovered later that it was constructed of glass, but I would not have believed it then. I walked all around trying to fathom its secret, its purpose. There was not a single opening anywhere. It seemed to have been made of some highly polished stone, and picking up a sharp pebble, I tried to scratch the smooth surface. I pressed with all my might, but the white surface withstood me. I could make no mark upon it and the stone’s tip was blunted. It was then that I perceived that the thing was of a clear transparent material, and the whiteness behind it might be a blind drawn over it!

  Since a stone could not scratch it, I tried the edge of the diamond in my finger ring. It made not the slightest impression. Determined to discover some way of breaking it, I backed away several yards, and picking up a stone, hurled it with all my strength. The stone bounced off like a rubber ball.

  For all of an hour I dallied around the cylinder, trying to discover what it might be, or its purpose in that spot. Half a dozen times I encircled it, running my hands over it as low as possible and as high as I could reach, endeavoring to find some weak place on its wide expanse. With much difficulty, for I was not as slender then as I was once, nor as spry, I climbed to the top of a young tree to see what lay atop. There was nothing but a smooth, unbroken surface. My curiosity was now very much aroused, but I could find no plausible explanation. At last I decided to inquire about it in the village.

  With the chagrin of a baffled man I picked up a rather large rock as I turned to go and flung it with all my strength against the thing, exactly as a peeved boy might have done. I was startled to hear a deep hollow boom. At least the thing was hollow. But the stone left no blemish. In disgust I headed for the village. And then I was frightened by the most inhuman shriek.

  It was beginning to get dark. It was that time of evening when the dusk is settling and nothing seems real in the half-light. This is particularly true of the woods. It came bearing down upon me, a thing of white that in the twilight appeared to tower over me many feet. A ghost! I had no time to think. I saw that it was clothed in flowing draperies that streamed behind it. And in those flying things I saw a face—if it could be called that. It seemed more like a mask of many colors and distorted features. I saw all this, as it descended upon me, screaming. And in the growing darkness I saw a pair of eyes that gleamed like the eyes of a cat!

  It closed down upon me—flesh and blood, strong and wiry! I could get no hold on it. Something fell on my unprotected head, and there came a painful blackness. I recall a hazy awareness of other beings and I was being borne off toward the white cylinder, and through the walls!

  When I regained my senses I was comfortably spread out upon a wide soft couch. A blinding light filled my eyes, and I quickly closed them again. I lay there, wondering what had happened to me. Then like a flood the memory of it all returned! The stolen suit, the strange ruby, the white cylinder, the attack—it all came back to me.

  I opened my eyes again; this time the light did not bother me. I saw that I was in a room—the strangest room I had ever seen. Close at hand, just below my couch, lay a pool filled with water, that lapped gently at the sides. Strange flowers, of forms and colors I had never seen before, grew in pots around the pool. The flooring was of tiles, and the ceiling was of glass. A light seemed to flow from the entire surface of the ceiling, and lit the room with a diffused glow that was like sunlight. The walls of the chamber held my attention.

  They were of mosaic tiling, depicting a pretty piece of scenery. It was as if I were lying in a valley surrounded on all sides by low tree-covered hills with a bit of sky above. On one wall was a meandering river with a pretty waterfall, and above it was the sun, only it was shown as being relatively about as large as an apple and half-covered by clouds. Another wall showed a city of tiny white houses built on a terraced hill. The other walls carried out the hill scene. It was above the city that there was one bit of incongruity that spoiled the entire landscape. It appeared like a second sun, yet almost three times as large as a sun should be, and its color was a pinkish lavender, that contrasted strangely with the greens, browns, blues, and whites of the scene.

  After looking about me, I sat up, and was immediately overcome with a dizziness and a shoulder that pained. I now looked wildly about for a doorway, but nothing seemed to break the continuity of the tiled walls. I tried to get to my feet. Finally I succeeded in standing up. I swayed and reeled; fell into a dead faint a second time.

  When I regained consciousness I was back on the couch. A man was bending over me. Beyond him I saw that a section of the wall had opened, sliding into grooves on either side of the opening.

  “Do not attempt to rise,” I heard him say. “Your collar bone has been fractured, so you must move about as little as possible.”

  I think I cursed, for the blood rushed to my head. A pretty predicament I was in.

  The speaker continued. “I regret exceedingly that you have been put to this discomfort, sir; my servant was overzealous in performing his duty!”

  “His duty!” I exploded. “Do you think it was his duty to attack an innocent …” Here I fumbled for a word.

  “Meddler?” supplied my host.

  I bristled at that and was about to say something caustic, but the surprise I experienced on looking up at my host—or captor—made me forget my anger.

  He was a large fellow, standing a good six inches over six feet, with a body perfectly proportioned. I thought of the statue I had seen in the Vatican of the Apollo Belvedere. His feet were small and his hands were almost as fine as a woman’s. His clothing was cut to show the body to advantage, fitting the legs as tightly as a glove, with a smock cut close to the shoulders and low at the neck, and girdled tightly at the waist.

  Still it was not his form that struck me so forcibly. It was his skin! Picture a statue of fine well-polished silver—silver generations old—radiating an inner luster. The man was truly a silver man. Face, arms, hands, and even hair, fine as silk falling to his shoulders, were silvery. Only the inner flush that glowed under the skin gave proof of red blood behind that strange complexion. And he had lavender eyes!

  I was speechless! My eyes strayed about the strange room, to the man’s stranger garments, and back to those peculiar eyes. At last my tongue came free. “My God!” I cried. “What kind of man are you?” A hundred questions raced through my mind.

  “We come,” said the strange man, “from a most distant planet, of which you on Earth are not aware, a planet quite on the edge of your solar system. We have no name for it but Abrui, which translated means ‘Home.’ However, we are concerned chiefly about the present, and must consider this untoward situation.”

  His words left me oddly chilly. A cold sweat broke all over me. I could not think, but somewhere something was repeating over and over again, “Men from another planet, men from another planet!” I closed my eyes to arrange my thoughts once more. I knew that I was not dreaming, and that this was reality. There was a pain in my shoulder. I turned once more to the man. “But I don’t understand. How did you come here? How?”

  I saw him shrug his shoulders slightly, and I realized he considered me a nincompoop. He answered, “You are aboard an interplanetary vehicle. We call it the Yodverl, which in your language means ‘the Ship of the Void.’”

  “How is it then you speak my language?” I demanded.

  “That, my friend, is because I am not the first to have traveled through space. He who went before was from this, your native planet.”

  I tried to comprehend what he had said, but it was difficult. Having been penned in by a routine of business all my life, it was difficult for me to conceive such possibilities or to follow such a train of thought as this man’s words had opened up for me! I saw he was waiting for me to continue questioning him. “And now that you are here, what are your intentions?” I thought of what a reception New York City would give this man. Lindbergh and Dr. Eckener (who had but recently crossed the Atlantic from Germany in a dirigible) would find their noses out of joint.

  THE SECRET MISSION

  He was smiling at my question, and I had a feeling that he had read my thoughts. “My mission here is a secret one. I am concerned with nothing of this world except one man, to whom I bear a message. We arrived on this planet two nights since, and I hope that by tomorrow night we may be in a position to make our departure—that is, after we have returned you safely to this spot.” He sighed, but not I. I wanted to know what he meant by his last words.

  “You, sir,” he explained, “are luckily the only trespasser who has had the misfortune to discover our retreat here. We landed at night and slipped into this quiet glade without discovery. On reaching your planet we picked out a spot near one of your large cities. We needed some equipment as well as a map, by which we might find our destination. Fortune led us to New York, which we found by means of its great lights. Thence we traveled this far. I went foraging and discovered the old suit in the cabin, which I take to be yours, and I hoped that its owner would not return before we were on our way.

  “When you came to find us it meant but one thing. We had to capture you before you carried your story to the village and brought intruders here. Hence you find yourself within our vehicle. And though we regret it, we must act so as to insure the keeping of our secret during our stay on Earth. You may rest assured, however, that you will be returned to this spot safe and well.”

  I glanced ruefully at my shoulder. “It will be six weeks before that can heal.”

  “On the contrary. We have with us a salve, which has healing power that your medical men would, no doubt, consider miraculous. Your collarbone will be completely well within a week’s time. Allow me to bandage it again and rub it with this salve.”

  As he worked on my shoulder with his cooling unguent, another man entered the chamber. He was like the first, silvery and handsome, but somewhat younger. His knowledge of English was no equal to that of the older man, nor did I take to him as readily as I had to his companion. He addressed my host as Sa Dak, while the younger fellow answered to the name of Tor.

  Later, as I began to notice Sa Dak more particularly, I saw that his face was one of power, while in the eyes was an expression that bespoke some great sorrow. There was no way to determine his age from his features, and one could not see gray hairs among the silver. I judged him as a man in his prime, probably in the late thirties or forties. The other had no fine marks of character in his youthful face, and his lavender eyes expressed no emotions. He seemed to be no more than twenty-five years old.

  After rubbing my shoulder well, Sa Dak asked if it still pained. There was only the discomfort of the tight bandage and an ache that was no more than a slight toothache. I admitted as much, and felt better about the prospect of my imprisonment. Suddenly I remembered that I had told my wife I would stay away several days, and she should not expect me until I showed up. Somehow it never entered my mind to doubt Sa Dak’s word, and I was looking forward with childish curiosity to this strange adventure.

  Just then another creature entered the room. He was bearing a tray on which there were three glasses filled with liquid, and several dishes filled with food. The servant was somewhat smaller than his master, just as finely built, and had an extremely intelligent face; but his skin was different. Whereas his masters looked silvery, he looked golden! Hair, skin, and lips were like virgin gold polished, and glistening with the blood flowing under the skin. And his eyes were red! As red as vermilion, and they looked quite natural in that golden face!

  My host, on perceiving his entrance, said, “Ah, here is the culprit!” and rapidly he spoke to the fellow in a strange tongue. The servant cringed; his tray trembled as he looked in my direction. He managed to distribute his burden among us and waited nearby while we ate and drank. What the liquid was I did not know; the food was also strange but was vegetable-like and very delectable.

  After taking the dishes, the servant waited patiently, just beyond my couch, with fear in his strange eyes. His master paid him no attention, but continued speaking to me.

  “When you appeared in our vicinity, we knew immediately that it would be necessary to make you our captive. My companion and I enjoyed watching your attempt to discover what we were, and when you started away with the thought in your mind of making inquiries, and possibly to arouse the authorities, we sent this poor fellow out to capture you. It was his overzealousness in the duty of capturing you that caused him to wound you. Hence he is now at your mercy. Punish him as you will.” And with a movement of his arm he brought the trembling slave into our circle.

  I was greatly embarrassed. Had my captors suggested earlier that I punish my tormentor, I would gladly have taken an eye for an eye, giving him the same that he had given me, but the situation had taken a different turn. I, who had thought these interplanetary visitors the intruders, was convinced that I was the intruder. I managed somehow to smile, though I was feeling like a bully who was beaten by a smaller fellow. I waved the slave away.

  “You are to be complimented upon possessing a servant who performs his duties so fully,” I said, and I smiled smugly to myself as I thought what a good example of my countrymen I was setting myself up as in so magnanimously forgiving the man who had injured me.

  The silver man turned to the golden one and spoke in their soft language. The slave looked at me with his odd eyes, and in the manner in which all mankind expresses gratitude, he threw himself at my feet and taking my hand in his, he kissed it. More embarrassed than ever, I looked to Sa Dak for relief. He spoke and the slave slowly backed out of the room. It is needless to say that during the rest of the time I spent on the Yodverl he followed me about like a faithful dog, fulfilling my desires before I had time to express them.

  It was now quite dark outside and Sa Dak observed that within a short time we should be moving. I was rather inquisitive as to where our destination lay, but at a motion from Sa Dak the other followed him and they both hurried away through the doorway.

  CURIOSITY UPPERMOST AGAIN

  Cautiously I rose to my feet. This time I knew no dizziness, and I found that my shoulder pained not at all. Walking to the door I peered through and saw that a small chamber lay beyond. At its far side was a second doorway, and I surmised that the two silver men had proceeded through it to their pilot room.

  I glanced about the room. It was furnished very simply, with furniture made from a strange light metal. There was a broad desk in the center, sitting on a square rug of gray, woven from some rough material like camel’s hair. Several chairs were set about, three-legged chairs with seat and back built to conform to the lines of the body. All about the room were set square cases three feet in height. I surmised that they contained books, although the shelves were concealed behind metal. I noted that the walls of the room were like the ceiling and the light came from all sides. There was nothing to relieve the whiteness of the glass.

  The desk held my attention. On it was a tall slender metal vase with one of those strange exotic flowers that I had seen growing in the other room. Beside the vase were several strange oblong boxes of metal about ten inches in length and only one inch in width. Curious, I picked one up. On one side was a small metal tab, which I immediately pulled. One side of the box drew out and to it were attached about two dozen thin sheets of metal, each one as thin as a sheet of writing paper, and on them was a strange form of writing. The letters were oddly shaped, and on examining them closely, I found that instead of having been printed or written, they had been photographed on the sheet. I took this to be a book.

  Besides the several “books” that were on the desk was a square box of metal. Of course, I had no right to be prying but I was curious. I wanted to know all there was to know about these people. It would be something to remember all my days. So without any scruples I opened the box and let a cry of wonder escape me, for there on the same sort of metal sheets was a manuscript, written not in Abruian, but in English!

  To Professor Ezra Rollins:

  Data concerning the results gathered on the arrival of the Rollins rocket upon an unknown planet called by its peoples “Abrui.” With greetings and best wishes to the Professor.

  Dana Gleason

  I looked no further. I closed the box, my mind now in a whirl. Dana Gleason, Dana Gleason. Where had I heard that name? Then it came to me. Years ago, when I was no more than a boy, I had heard the story of Dana Gleason, one of the wealthiest men in the world, of fine aristocratic stock, dating back to the early settlement of the country.

  Dana Gleason had been one of the young society men whose very name brought envy to youthful hearts. Tales of his exploits, his polo ponies, his yachts, his globetrotting were read avidly by the curious public. His marriage into another house of equal rank and fortune appeared on the front pages of the newspapers. Then for two years, at which time his baby was born, Dana Gleason was completely forgotten. Almost immediately upon the arrival of the baby, both father and child disappeared completely. Later it was discovered that the father had spirited the baby away on his yacht. Several weeks later there came a sensational story when young Mrs. Gleason was killed at a railroad crossing in an automobile.

  For months no more news was to be had, but an inquisitive reporter learned that the father had planned, with the aid of nurses and tutors, to bring up his boy with a hatred of women. Five years later the last woman left the yacht, but she had been paid not to give interviews. Next we heard of the yacht (which was almost as large as a small steamship) from various corners of the world—from the north, east, west, and south. Dana Gleason, Jr., was having the finest education that man could acquire. The greatest teachers from every nation were taken aboard the yacht, and one heard of the famous men of the day being invited for cruises. The yacht was said to have a swimming pool, a gymnasium, a chemical laboratory, and an astronomical observatory. It carried its own wireless, and motion pictures of historical events were screened especially for the benefit of the heir. The accounts of his life aboard the yacht read like fairy stories.