quickly, by the afternoon of the
second day: I am referring, of course, to Earth days, which are
slightly less than half the length of an enaren of Universe time.

A number of my friends had come to meet me, visit with me during my
brief stay on Earth; and, having finished my business with such
dispatch, I decided to spend that evening with them, and leave the
following morning. It was very late when my friends departed, and I
strolled out with them to their mono-car, returning the salute of the
_Ertak's_ lone sentry, who was pacing his post before the huge
circular exit of the ship.

Bidding my friends farewell, I stood there for a moment under the
heavens, brilliant with blue, cold stars, and watched the car sweep
swiftly and soundlessly away towards the towering mass of the city.
Then, with a little sigh, I turned back to the ship.

The _Ertak_ lay lightly upon the earth, her polished sides gleaming in
the light of the crescent moon. In the side toward me, the circular
entrance gaped like a sleepy mouth; the sentry, knowing the eyes of
his commander were upon him, strode back and forth with brisk,
military precision. Slowly, still thinking of my friends, I made my
way toward the ship.

I had taken but a few steps when the sentry's challenge rang out
sharply, "Halt! Who goes there?"

I glanced up in surprise. Shiro, the man on guard, had seen me leave,
and he could have had no difficulty in recognizing me. But--the
challenge had not been meant for me.

* * * * *

Between myself and the _Ertak_ there stood a strange figure. An
instant before, I would have sworn that there was no human in sight,
save myself and the sentry; now this man stood not twenty feet away,
swaying as though ill or terribly weary, barely able to lift his head
and turn it toward the sentry.

"Friend," he gasped; "friend!" and I think he would have fallen to the
ground if I had not clapped an arm around his shoulders and supported
him.

"Just ... a moment," whispered the stranger. "I'm a bit faint.... I'll
be all right...."

I stared down at the man, unable to reply. This was a nightmare; no
less. I could feel the sentry staring, too.

The man was dressed in a style so ancient that I could not remember
the period: Twenty-first Century, at least; perhaps earlier. And while
he spoke English, which is a language of Earth, he spoke it with a
harsh and unpleasant accent that made his words difficult, almost