like this. Indo-China was at war. Korea was an oldstory. Now Greece. It always takes more men to guard against criminalactions than to commit them. When this raid was over Greece would haveto maintain a full-size army in its northern mountains to guard againstits repetition. Which would be a strain on its treasury and might helptoward bankruptcy. This was cold war.
The infantry ended. Horse-drawn vehicles appeared in a seemingly endlessline. Motorized transport would be better, but the Bulgarians were shortof it. Shaggy, stubby animals plodded in the wake of the tanks and theinfantry. There were two-wheeled carts in single file all across thevalley. They went through the village and filed after the soldiers.
"I think," said Coburn in biting anger, "this will be all there is tosee. They'll go in until they're stopped. They'll kidnap Greek civiliansand later work them to death in labor camps. They'll carry off somechildren to raise as spies. But their purpose is probably only to makesuch a threat that the Greeks will go broke guarding against them. Theyknow the Greeks don't want war."
He began to wriggle back from the brushwood screen. He was filled withthe sort of sick rage that comes when you can't actively resentinsolence and arrogance. He hated the people who wanted the world tocollapse, and this was part of their effort to bring it about.
He helped the girl down. "Dillon said to wait," he said. He foundhimself shaking with anger at the men who had ordered the troops tomarch. "He said he was taking pictures. He must have had an advance tipof some sort. If so, he'll have a line of retreat."
Then Coburn frowned. Not quite plausible, come to think of it. ButDillon had certainly known about the raid. He was set to take pictures,and he hadn't been surprised. One would have expected Greek Armyphotographers on hand to take pictures of a raid of which they hadwarning. Probably United Nations observers on the scene, too. Yes. Thereshould be Army men and probably a United Nations team up where Dillonwas.
Coburn explained to the girl. "That'll be it. And they'll have a radio,too. Probably helicopters taking them out also. I'll go up and tell themto be sure and have room for you."
He started for the cliff he'd seen Dillon climb. He paused: "I'd betterhave your name for them to report to Athens."
"I'm Janice Ames," she told him. "The Breen Foundation has me goingaround arranging for lessons for the people up here. Sanitation andnutrition and midwifery, and so on. The Foundation office is inSalonika, though."
He nodded and attacked the cliff.
* * * * *
It hadn't been a difficult climb for Dillon. It wasn't even a long onefor Coburn, but it was much worse than he'd thought. The crevices forhandholds were rare, and footholds were almost non-existent. There weretimes when he felt he was holding on by his fingernails. Dillon seemedto have made it with perfect ease, but Coburn found it exhausting.
Fifty feet up he came to the place where Dillon had vanished. But it wasa preposterously difficult task to get across an undercut to where hecould grasp a stunted tree. It was a strain to scramble up past it. Thenhe found himself on the narrowest of possible ledges, with a sickeningdrop off to one side. But Dillon had made it, so he followed.
He went a hundred yards, and then the ledge came to an end. He saw whereDillon must have climbed. It was possible, but Coburn violently did notwant to try. Still ... He started.
Then something clicked in his throat. There was a rather deep ledge fora space of four or five feet. And there was Dillon. No, not Dillon. JustDillon's clothes. They lay flat and deflated, but laid out in oneassembly beside a starveling twisted bush. It would have been possiblefor a man to stand there to take off his clothes, if he wanted to. But aman who takes off his clothes--and why should Dillon do that?--takesthem off one by one. These garments were fitted together. The coat wasover the shirt, and the trousers fitted to the bottom of the shirt overthe coat, and the boots were at the ends of the trouser legs.
Then Coburn saw something he did not believe. It palpably was not true.He saw a hand sticking out of the end of the sleeve. But it was not ahand, because it had collapsed. It was rather like an unusually thickglove, flesh color.
Then he saw what should have been Dillon's head. And it was in place,too. But it was not Dillon's head. It was not a head at all. It wassomething quite different. There were no eyes. Merely holes. Openings.Like a mask.
Coburn felt a sort of roaring in his ears, and he could not thinkclearly for a moment because of the shrieking impossibility of what hewas looking at. Dillon's necktie had been very neatly untied, and leftin place in his collar. His shirt had been precisely unbuttoned. He hadplainly done it himself. And then--the unbuttoned shirt made itclear--he had come out of his body. Physically, he had emerged and goneon. The thing lying flat that had lapsed at Coburn's feet was Dillon'soutside. His outside only. The inside had come out and gone away. It hadclimbed the cliff over Coburn's head.
The outside of Dillon looked remarkably like something made out offoam-rubber. Coburn touched it, insanely.
He heard his own voice saying flatly: "It's a sort of suit. A suit thatlooks like Dillon. He was in it. Something was! Something is playing thepart of Dillon. Maybe it always was. Maybe there isn't any Dillon."
He felt a sort of hysterical composure. He opened the chest. It waspatently artificial. There were such details on the inside as would beimagined in a container needed to fit something snugly. At the edges ofthe opening there were fastenings like the teeth of a zipper, butsomehow different. Coburn knew that when this was fastened there wouldbe no visible seam.
Whatever wore this suit-that-looked-like-Dillon could feel perfectlyconfident of passing for Dillon, clothed or otherwise. It could passwithout any question for--
Coburn gagged.
_It could pass without question for a human being._
Obviously, whatever was wearing this foam-rubber replica of Dillon wasnot human!
Coburn went back to where he had to climb down the cliffside again. Hemoved like a sleep-walker. He descended the fifty-foot cliff by thecrevices and the single protruding rock-point that had helped him getup. It was much easier going down. In his state of mind it was also moredangerous. He moved in a sort of robot-like composure.
He moved toward the girl, trying to make words come out of his throat,when a small rock came clattering down the cliff. He looked up. Dillonwas in the act of swinging to the first part of the descent. He camedown, very confident and assured. He had two camera-cases slung from hisshoulders. Coburn stared at him, utterly unable to believe what he'dseen ten minutes before.
Dillon reached solid ground and turned. He smiled wryly. His shirt wasbuttoned. His tie was tied.
"I hoped," he said ruefully to Janice Ames, "that the Bulgars wouldtoddle off. But they left a guard in the village. We can't hope to takean easier trail. We'll have to go back the way you came. We'll get yousafe to Salonika, though."
The girl smiled, uneasily but gratefully.
"And," added Dillon, "we'd better get started."
He gallantly helped the girl remount her donkey. At the sight, Coburnwas shaken out of his numbness. He moved fiercely to intervene. ButJanice settled herself in the saddle and Dillon confidently led the way.Coburn grimly walked beside her as she rode. He was convinced that hewouldn't leave her side while Dillon was around. But even as he knewthat desperate certitude, he was filled with confusion and a panickyuncertainty.
When they'd traveled about half a mile, another frightening thoughtoccurred to Coburn. Perhaps Dillon--passing for human--wasn't alone.Perhaps there were thousands like him.
Invaders! Usurpers, pretending to be men. Invaders, obviously, fromspace!
II
They made eight miles. At least one mile of that, added together, wasclimbing straight up. Another mile was straight down. The rest wasboulder-strewn, twisting, donkey-wide, slanting, slippery stone. Butthere was no sign of anyone but themselves. The sky remainedundisturbed. No planes. They saw no sign of the raiding force fromacross the border, and they heard no gunfire.
&n
bsp; Coburn struggled against the stark impossibility of what he had seen.The most horrifying concept regarding invasion from space is that ofcreatures who are able to destroy or subjugate humanity. A part of thatconcept was in Coburn's mind now. Dillon marched on ahead, in every wayconvincingly human. But he wasn't. And to Coburn, his presence as anon-human invader of Earth made the border-crossing by the Bulgariansseem almost benevolent.
They went on. The next hill was long and steep. Then they were at thehill crest. They looked down into a village called Naousa. It was largerthan Ardea, but not much larger. One of the houses burned untended.Figures moved about. There were tanks in sight, and many soldiers in theuniform that looked dark-gray at a distance. The route by which Dillonhad traveled had plainly curved into the line-of-march of the Bulgarianraiding force.
But the moving figures were not soldiers. The soldiers were still. Theylay down on the grass in irregular, sprawling windrows. The tanks werenot in motion. There were two-wheeled carts in sight--reaching backalong the invasion-route--and they were just as stationary as the menand the tanks. The horses had toppled in their shafts. They weremotionless.
The movement was of civilians--men and women alike. They were Greekvillagers, and they moved freely among the unmilitarily recumbenttroops, and even from this distance their occupation was clear. Theywere happily picking the soldiers' pockets. But there was one figurewhich moved from one prone figure to another much too quickly to belooting. Coburn saw sunlight glitter on something in his hand.
* * * * *
Dillon noticed the same thing Coburn did at the same instant. He boundedforward. He ran toward the village and its tumbled soldiers in great,impossible leaps. No man could make such leaps or travel so fast. Heseemed almost to soar toward the village, shouting. Coburn and Janicesaw him reach the village. They saw him rush toward the one man who hadbeen going swiftly from one prone soldier to another. It was too far tosee Dillon's action, but the sunlight glittered again on somethingbright, which this time flew through the air and dropped to the ground.
The villagers grouped about Dillon. There was no sign of a struggle.
"What's happened?" demanded Janice uneasily. "Those are soldiers on theground."
Coburn's fright prevented his caution. He shouted furiously. "He's not aman! You saw it! No man can run so fast! You saw those jumps! He's nothuman! He's--something else!"
Janice jerked her eyes to Coburn in panic. "What did you say?"
Coburn panted: "Dillon's no man! He's a monster from somewhere in space!And he and his kind have killed those soldiers! Murdered them! And thesoldiers are men! You stay here. I'll go down there and--"
"No!" said Janice, "I'm coming too."
He took the donkey's halter and led the animal down to the village, withJanice trembling a little in the saddle. He talked in a tight, taut,hysterical tone. He told what he'd found up on the cliffside. Hedescribed in detail the similitude of a man's body he'd found deflatedbeside a stunted bush.
He did not look at Janice as he talked. He moved doggedly toward thevillage, dragging at the donkey's head. They neared the houses veryslowly, and Coburn considered that he walked into the probability of agroup of other creatures from unthinkable other star systems, disguisedas men. It did not occur to him that his sudden outburst about Dillonsounded desperately insane to Janice.
* * * * *
They reached the first of the fallen soldiers. Janice looked,shuddering. Then she said thinly: "He's breathing!"
He was. He was merely a boy. Twenty or thereabouts. He lay on his back,his eyes closed. His face was upturned like a dead man's. But his breastrose and fell rhythmically. He slept as if he were drugged.
But that was more incredible than if he'd been dead. Regiments of menfallen simultaneously asleep....
Coburn's flow of raging speech stopped short. He stared. He saw otherfallen soldiers. Dozens of them. In coma-like slumber, the soldiers whohad come to loot and murder lay like straws upon the ground. If they hadbeen dead it would have been more believable. At least there are ways tokill men. But this ...
Dillon parted the group of villagers about him and came toward Coburnand Janice. He was frowning in a remarkably human fashion.
"Here's a mess!" he said irritably. "Those Bulgars came marching downout of the pass. The cavalry galloped on ahead and cut the villagers offso they couldn't run away. They started to loot the village. Theyweren't pleasant. Women began to scream, and there were shootings--allin a matter of minutes. And then the looters began to act strangely.They staggered around and sat down and went to sleep!"
He waved his hands in a helpless gesture, but Coburn was not deceived.
"The tanks arrived. And they stopped--and their crews went to sleep!Then the infantry appeared, staggering as it marched. The officershalted to see what was happening ahead, and the entire infantry droppedoff to sleep right where it stood!
"It's bad! If it had happened a mile or so back ... The Greeks must haveplayed a trick on them, but those cavalrymen raised the devil in the fewminutes they were out of hand! They killed some villagers and thenkeeled over. And now the villagers aren't pleased. There was one manwhose son was murdered, and he's been slitting the Bulgars' throats!"
He looked at Coburn, and Coburn said in a grating voice: "I see."
Dillon said distressedly: "One can't let them slit the throats ofsleeping men! I'll have to stay here to keep them from going at itagain. I say, Coburn, will you take one of their staff cars and run ondown somewhere and tell the Greek government what's happened here?Something should be done about it! Soldiers should come to keep orderand take charge of these chaps."
"Yes," said Coburn. "I'll do it. I'll take Janice along, too."
"Splendid!" Dillon nodded as if in relief. "She'd better get out of themess entirely. I fancy there'd have been a full-scale massacre if wehadn't come along. The Greeks have no reason to love these chaps, andtheir intentions were hardly amiable. But one can't let them bemurdered!"
Coburn had his hand on his revolver in his pocket. His finger was on thetrigger. But if Dillon needed him to run an errand, then there obviouslywere no others of his own kind about.
Dillon turned his back. He gave orders in the barbarous dialect of themountains. His voice was authoritative. Men obeyed him and draggeduniformed figures out of a light half-track that was plainly a staffcar. Dillon beckoned, and Coburn moved toward him. The important thingas far as Coburn was concerned was to get Janice to safety. Then toreport the full event.
* * * * *
"I ... I'm not sure ..." began Janice, her voice shaking.
"I'll prove what I said," raged Coburn in a low tone. "I'm not crazy,though I feel like it!"
Dillon beckoned again. Janice slipped off the donkey's back. She lookedpitifully frightened and irresolute.
"I've located the chap who's the mayor of this village, or somethinglike that. Take him along. They might not believe you, but they'll haveto investigate when he turns up."
A white-bearded villager reluctantly climbed into the back of the car.Dillon pleasantly offered to assist Janice into the front seat. Sheclimbed in, deathly white, frightened of Coburn and almost ashamed toadmit that his vehement outburst had made her afraid of Dillon, too.
Dillon came around to Coburn's side of the vehicle. "Privately," he saidwith a confidential air, "I'd advise you to dump this mayor person wherehe can reach authority, and then go away quietly and say nothing of whathappened up here. If the Greeks are using some contrivance that handlesan affair like this, it will be top secret. They won't like civiliansknowing about it."
Coburn's grip on his revolver was savage. It seemed likely, now, thatDillon was the only one of his extraordinary kind about.
"I think I know why you say that," he said harshly.
Dillon smiled. "Oh, come now!" he protested. "I'm quite unofficial!"
He was incredibly convincing at that moment. There was a wry
half-smileon his face. He looked absolutely human; absolutely like the Britishcorrespondent Coburn had met in Salonika. He was too convincing. Coburnknew he would suspect his own sanity unless he made sure.
"You're not only unofficial," said Coburn grimly. His hand came up overthe edge of the staff-car door. It had his revolver in it. It boreinexorably upon the very middle of Dillon's body. "You're not human,either! You're not a man! Your name isn't Dillon! You're--something Ihaven't a word for! But if you try anything fancy I'll see if a bulletthrough your middle will stop you!"
Dillon did not move. He said easily: "You're being absurd, my dearfellow. Put away that pistol."
"You slipped!" said Coburn thickly. "You said the Greeks played a trickon this raiding party. But you played it. At Ardea, when you climbedthat cliff--no man could climb so fast. No man could run as you ran downinto this village. And I saw that body you're wearing when you weren'tin it! I followed you up the cliff when--" Coburn's voice was raginglysarcastic--"when you were taking pictures!"
* * * * *
Dillon's face went impassive. Then he said: "Well?"
"Will you let me scratch your finger?" demanded Coburn almosthysterically. "If it bleeds, I'll apologize and freely admit I'm crazy!But if it doesn't ..."
The thing-that-was-not-Dillon raised its