From out beyond the second sun he came; a fugitive from
a dead and sterile world ... seeking solace, friends, a
home, on Earth—a planet of even greater terrors.
[Transcriber’s Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories July 1953.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The sensation of which he was most conscious was that of loneliness. Hewas no longer very much afraid, and sometimes he even thought that hisenemies back home were no longer hunting for him. But in the midst ofthese strange creatures he learned that there was one thing worse thanopen hostility, and that was indifference. They had no more interestin him than they had in each other, and even though their indifferenceincreased his own chances for safety, it was a chilling thing none theless.
He knew that though they were like him superficially, they wereintensely different within. He stood at a street corner trying tofathom the difference, while the crowds surged about him, buffeting himfrom side to side. They seemed to have no idea of personal dignity. Hestill understood their language only imperfectly, and spoke it withdifficulty, but he had learned, in a primitive way, to read theirfaces, and during this time of day, at least, their faces told of astrain and fear all their own, of an uncertainty even greater thanhis. They were going home from work, and they were afraid of countlesstrifles—that something unpleasant might happen, that they might notget seats on their conveyances, that bad news might greet them whenthey arrived.
He stared with fascination at a heap of newspapers spread out onthe corner stand. He could guess the purpose of these layers ofwhite sheets covered with black or red symbols, but he could not yetinterpret them, and he had no idea whether any one had seen or reportedhis ship. It was almost certain that some one had observed a shootingstar, but the chances were very much against any observation havingbeen made of the star’s slow, dark drift to earth. At any rate, he hadconcealed his ship among the growth of tall native plants, and someday he would find time to repair the relatively minor damage he hadsustained, and continue his journey.
Meanwhile, he had to make up his mind what to do here. His originalstore of food had been exhausted a week before as these creaturescounted time, and despite the fact that his metabolic requirements werelow, he had long needed to eat again. The food that was exhibited inmany stores was of a kind strange to him, but from the very structureand behavior of individuals who ate it, he knew that it was of theright chemical composition. Examining it cautiously with a smallanalyzer held close to his eye, he noted that at least it containednone of the more dangerous poisons. It would do, if he could obtain it.
But he must obtain it in a manner that these creatures consideredlegal, not as he had obtained his clothes. He recalled how absurdlydifferent his own clothes had been, constructed to fit a creaturewhose morphology was so much unlike theirs. He had taken over a suitfrom a man he had met driving on a dark country road, not too closeto the ship. He had stopped the car and put the man to sleep withoutdifficulty, but there must have been a great outcry after his victimhad awakened to find himself cold and naked in the driver’s seat.
He hadn’t minded, for he had already left the place where the incidenthad occurred. But he wanted no hue and cry raised here. Although underother conditions he would have minded their hostility no more thantheir indifference, he knew that hostility now might very seriouslylimit hi