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The Inhabited




  Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Transcriber's Note:

  This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction January 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.

  _Containing a foe is sound military thinking--unless it's carried out so literally that everybody becomes an innocent Trojan Horse!_]

  The Inhabited

  By

  RICHARD WILSON

  Illustrated by ASHMAN

  * * * * *

  Two slitted green eyes loomed up directly in front of him. He plungedinto them immediately.

  He had just made the voyage, naked through the dimension stratum, andhe scurried into the first available refuge, to hover there, gasping.

  The word "he" does not strictly apply to the creature, for it had nosex, nor are the words "naked," "scurried," "hover" and "gasping"accurate at all. But there are no English words to describe properlywhat it was and how it moved, except in very general terms. There areno Asiatic, African or European words, though perhaps there aremathematical symbols. But, because this is not a technical paper, thesymbols have no place in it.

  He was a sort of spy, a sort of fifth-columnist. He had some of thecharacteristics of a kamikaze pilot, too, because there was no tellingif he'd get back from his mission.

  Hovering in his refuge and gasping for breath, so to speak, he triedto compose his thoughts after the terrifying journey and adjusthimself to his new environment, so he could get to work. His job, asfirst traveler to this new world, the Earth, was to learn if it weresuitable for habitation by his fellow beings back home. Their worldwas about ended and they had to move or die.

  He was being discomfited, however, in his initial adjustment. Hisfirst stop in the new world--unfortunately, not only for his dignity,but for his equilibrium--had been in the mind of a cat.

  * * * * *

  It was his own fault, really. He and the others had decided that hisfirst in a series of temporary habitations should be in one of thelower order of animals. It was a matter of precaution--the mind wouldbe easy to control, if it came to a contest. Also, there would be lesschance of running into a mind-screen and being trapped or destroyed.

  The cat had no mind-screen, of course; some might even have arguedthat she didn't have a mind, especially the human couple she livedwith. But whatever she did have was actively at work, feeling thesolid tree-branch under her claws and the leaves against which hertail switched and seeing the half-grown chickens below.

  The chickens were scratching in the forbidden vegetable garden. Thecat, the runt of her litter and thus named Midge, often had beenchased out of the garden herself, but it was no sense of justice whichnow set her little gray behind to wriggling in preparation for herleap. It was mischief, pure and simple, which motivated her.

  Midge leaped, and the visitor, who had made the journey betweendimensions without losing consciousness, blacked out.

  When he revived, he was being rocketed along in an up-and-down and atthe same time side-ward series of motions which got him all giddy.With an effort he oriented himself so that the cat's vision becamehis, and he watched in distaste as the chickens scurried, scrawnywings lifted and beaks achirp, this way and that to escape themonstrous cat.

  The cat never touched the chickens; she was content to chase them.When she had divided the flock in half, six in the pea patch and sixunder the porch, she lay down in the shade of the front steps andreflectively licked a paw.

  The spy got the impression of reflection, but he was baffledly unableto figure out what the cat was reflecting on. Midge in turn licked apaw, rolled in the dust, arched her back against the warm stone of thesteps and snapped cautiously at a low-flying wasp. She was a contentedcat. The impression of contentment came through very well.

  The dimension traveler got only one other impression at themoment--one of languor.

  The cat, after a prodigious pink yawn, went to sleep. The traveler,although he had never known the experience of voluntaryunconsciousness, was tempted to do the same. But he fought against theinfluence of his host and, robbed of vision with the closing of thecat's eyes, he meditated.

  He had been on Earth less than ten minutes, but his meditationconsisted of saying to himself in his own way that if he was evergoing to get anything done, he'd better escape from this cat's mind.

  He accomplished that a few minutes later, when there was a crunchingof gravel in the driveway and a battered Plymouth stopped and a manstepped out. Midge opened her eyes, crept up behind a row of stonesbordering the path to the driveway and jumped delicately out at theman, who tried unsuccessfully to gather her into his arms.

  Through the cat's eyes from behind the porch steps, where Midge hadfled, the traveler took stock of the human being it was about toinhabit:

  Five-feet-elevenish, thirtyish, blond-brown-haired,blue-summer-suited.

  And no mind-screen.

  The traveler traveled and in an instant he was looking down from hisnew height at the gray undersized cat. Then the screen door of theporch opened and a female human being appeared.

  * * * * *

  With the male human impressions now his, the traveler experienced someinteresting sensations. There was a body-to-body togethernessapparently called "gimmea hug" and a face-to-face-touching ceremony,"kiss."

  "Hmm," thought the traveler, in his own way. "Hmm."

  The greeting ceremony was followed by one that had this catechism:

  "Suppareddi?"

  "Onnatable."

  Then came the "eating."

  This eating, something he had never done, was all right, he decided.He wondered if cats ate, too. Yes, Midge was under the gas stove,chewing delicately at a different kind of preparation.

  There was a great deal of eating. The traveler knew from theinspection of the mind he was inhabiting that the man was enormouslyhungry and tired almost to exhaustion.

  "The damn job had to go out today," was what had happened. "We workedtill almost eight o'clock. I think I'll take a nap after supper whileyou do the dishes."

  The traveler understood perfectly, for he was a very sympathetic type.That was one reason they had chosen him for the transdimensionalexploration. They had figured the best applicant for the job would beone with an intellect highly attuned to the vibrations of theseothers, known dimly through the warp-view, one extremely sensitive andwith a great capacity for appreciation. Shrewd, too, of course.

  The traveler tried to exercise control. Just a trace of it at first.He attempted to dissuade the man from having his nap. But his effortwas ignored.

  The man went to sleep as soon as he lay down on the couch in theliving room. Once again, as the eyes closed, the traveler wasimprisoned. He hadn't realized it until now, but he evidently couldn'ttransfer from one mind to another except through the eyes, once he wasinside. He had planned to explore the woman's mind, but now he wastrapped, at least temporarily.

  Oh, well. He composed himself as best he could to await the awakening.This sleeping business was a waste of time.

  There were footsteps and a whistling noise outside. The inhabited manheard the sounds and woke up, irritated. He opened his eyes a slit ashis wife told the neighbor that Charlie was taking a nap, worn outfrom a hard day at the office, and the visitor, darting free,transferred again.

  But he miscalculated and there he was in the mind of the neighbor.Irritated with himself, the traveler was about to jump to the
mind ofthe woman when he was caught up in the excitement that was consuminghis new host.

  "Sorry," said the neighbor. "The new batch of records I ordered cametoday and I thought Charlie'd like to hear them. Tell him to come overtomorrow night, if he wants to hear the solidest combo since Muggsy'sRoseland days."

  The wife said all right, George, she'd tell him. But the traveler wasexperiencing the excited memories of a dixieland jazz band in his newhost's mind, and he knew he'd be hearing these fantastically wonderfulnew sounds at first hand as soon as George got back to his turntable.

  They could hardly wait, George and his inhabitant both.

  * * * * *

  His inhabitant had come from a dimension-world of vast, contemplativesilences. There was no talk, no speech vibrations, no noise whichcould not be shut out by the turning of a mental switch. Communicationwas from mind to mind, not from mouth to ear. It was a world ofpeaceful silence, where everything had