The White Invaders (Sci-Fi Classic). Ray Cummings
planet?
Whatever their nature, they were enemies. That much we knew.
Night fell upon the crowded turmoil of the little city of Hamilton. The streets were thronged with excited, frightened people. The public park was jammed. The hotels and the restaurants were crowded. Groups of soldiers and police on bicycles with electric torches fastened to their handlebars were passing at intervals. Overhead the airplane, flying low, roared past every twenty minutes or so.
The night promised to be clear. The moon would rise, just beyond the full, a few hours after sunset. It was a warm and breathless night, with less wind than usual. Most of the people crowding the streets and the restaurants were in white linen—themselves suggesting the white and ghostly enemy.
Mr. Dorrance was occupied at the Government House. Jane, Don and I had supper in a restaurant on Queen Street. It was nearly eight o’clock and the crowd in the restaurant was thinning out. We were seated near the street entrance where large plate-glass windows displayed a variety of bakery products and confections. Jane had her back to the street, but Don and I were facing it. Crowds were constantly passing. It was near the end of our meal. I was gazing idly through one of the windows, watching the passing people when suddenly I became aware of a man standing out there gazing in at me. I think I have never had so startling a realization. It was a man in white doeskin trousers and blue blazer jacket, with a jaunty linen cap on his head. An abnormally tall, muscular man. And his smooth-shaven, black-browed face with the reflection from the restaurant window lights upon it, reminded me of the apparition we had seen the night before!
“Don! Don’t look up! Don’t move! Jane, don’t look around!” I whispered, almost frantically.
I must have gone white for Don and Jane gaped at me in astonishment.
“Don’t do that!” I murmured. “Someone outside, watching us!” I tried to smile. “Hot night, isn’t it? Did you get a check, Don?” I looked around vaguely for the waitress, but out of the tail of my eyes I could see the fellow out there still peering in and staring intently at us.
“What is it?” Don whispered.
“Man watching us! See him out there—the right-hand window! Jane, don’t look around!”
“Good Lord!” murmured Don.
“Looks like him, doesn’t it?”
“Good Lord! But I say—”
“What is it?” murmured Jane. “What is it?”
“Waitress!” I called. “Check, please. There’s a man out there, Jane—we’re crazy, but he does look like that ghost we saw on the Fort Beach.”
If the fellow knew that we had spotted him he gave no sign. He was still apparently regarding the bakery display in the window, but watching us nevertheless. I was sure of that.
The waitress gave us our check. “Nine and six,” Don smiled. “Thank you. But didn’t you forget that last coffee?”
The colored girl added the extra sixpence, and left us.
“You think that’s the same—I say, good Lord—”
Don was speechless. Jane had gone white. The fellow moved to the other window, and Jane had a swift look at him. We all recognized him, or thought we did. What necromancy was this? Had one of the apparitions materialized? Was that ghost we saw, this gigantic fellow in doeskins and blazer who looked like a tourist standing out there at the window? Were these ghosts merely human enemies after all?
The idea was at once terrifying, and yet reassuring. This was a man with whom we could cope with normal tactics. My hand went to the pocket of my blazer where I had a little revolver. Both Don and I were armed—permits for the carrying of concealed weapons had been issued to us this same day.
I murmured, “Jane! There are the Blakinsons over there. Go join them. We’ll be back presently.”
“What are you going to do?” Don demanded.
“Go out and tackle him—shall we? Have a talk. Find out who he is.”
“No!” Jane protested.
“Why not? Don’t you worry, Jane. Right here in the public street—and we’re both armed. He’s only a man.”
But was he only a man?
“We’ll have a go at it,” said Don abruptly. He rose from his seat. “Come on, Jane, I’ll take you to the Blakinsons.”
“Hurry it up!” I said. “He’s leaving! We’ll lose him!”
The fellow seemed about to wander on along the street. Don brought Jane over to the Blakinsons’ table which was at the back of the restaurant. We left our check with her and dashed for the street.
“Where is he? Do you see him?” Don demanded.
He had gone. But in a moment we saw him, his white cap towering above the crowd down by the drugstore at the corner.
“Come on, Don! There he is!”
We half ran through the crowd. We caught the fellow as he was diagonally crossing the street. We rushed up, one on each side of him, and seized him by the arms.
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