Consider an alien infiltrating our
world—impossible to catch because
he might inhabit any person—even
you! You'd likely start screaming—
GET OUT OF MY BODY!
By Tom W. Harris
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
February 1958
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
"I have come to discuss a very grave problem," said thetalking-attendant.
"Then let's get down to details," said Chester Forge. "It's urgent yousaid."
Interviews with Ravians always made Chester nervous. They wouldn't usethe psi-control voice sets, and there was something uncanny in talkingto a human, a talking-attendant, when you knew it wasn't the manspeaking at all, but the alien intelligence he was temporarily host to.
It was even more unsettling when the Ravian was a high official,as at present. Their minds were even more coldly intellectual, dryand logical than the usual Ravian tourist's. And they could make alot of trouble. Chester's job as tour-chief here at Knoxville—morespecifically, Port Knoxville, where the ships came in—was to keep thetourists happy as possible. No, not happy. Happiness is an emotion.Satisfied maybe.
"There are scant useful details I can give you," said Monnn, theRavian, through the lips of the talking-attendant. "There was astowaway on the sightseeing ship that came in this morning—one of ourpeople. He is a fugitive. He has left the ship and is here on earthsomewhere, perhaps in Knoxville. He must be captured."
Chester Forge was jolted, but he had found you got on better withRavians if you never showed feelings. He made his voice calm.
"A fugitive, hmmm? What was his crime?"
"The question is immaterial," said Monnn. "So typical of your people.But I suppose you will function better if not bothered by curiosity.Minnn, the stowaway, told a lie."
"A lie?"
"The worst of crimes. Minnn was a politician, campaigning for office,and he lied in making a promise he could not execute."
By Joe, thought Chester, now I've heard them all. Well, the rule is younever, never question the tastes of an alien. The Martians have a madpassion for hop-toads, the Zarlos like to have things hurt them, theFrin talk all the time and the Rorn don't talk at all, and—
"We'll get him for you," said Chester more firmly than he felt.
"We feel you may fail," said the Ravian. "We ask permission to send ourown searchers, no quota on numbers, open-area travel permission."
Chester went white. "I'm afraid we can't grant that. I promise we'llget him for you."
"Why can you not grant that?"
"Well—population. There aren't enough volunteers to host any more thanthe present quota, and of course you can't get around without hosts."
"How human," said Monnn through the attendant. "You are afraid of us.Yet you know we have no desire at all for this planet, and that we knowyou know this.
"Why do you lie? On our planet you would be treated as Minnn willbe—your personality dismembered, the useful parts assigned to another,the imperfect disposed of."
"Be that as it may," said Chester, a chill in his spine. "We will findthis fugitive ourselves."
"Of course. And if you do not, within two of your days, we must cometo search ourselves. One more thing—Minnn may turn killer. And now Ishall retire—manipulating this organism is most fatiguing."
The talking-attendant stood blank-faced for a moment as the Ravianwithdrew to