Haverford knew from his radio contracts he
was the last man alive on Earth. His death was
certain—for the enemy numbered trillions, a—
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
August 1958
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The room was sealed as tightly as possible. Haverford had checked itfor cracks, made sure the windows were caulked, and now kept constantguard. He was alone. He could never tell when the alien invaders wouldbreak through.
I must be nearly the last, he thought. It was strange, this feelingof being alone on Earth. But it was probably true.
The aliens had come six days before. Haverford remembered picking uptheir ultimatum on his ham set:—
EARTHMEN, THE LANTHAII ARE COMING. BEWARE!
That was all it had been—an ominous warning, rather than a threat oran order. The way the message had been worded left little doubt thatthey were conquerors—conquerors from space.
Haverford had been amused, at first. A solitary recluse, he had littledealings with his fellow men, at least not in person. The costly hamset that occupied nearly a third of his one-room flat was his solecontact. Through radio he kept in regular touch with "friends" inYokohama and Buenos Aires, Texas and Oregon, while actually leaving theconfines of his own room at increasingly rare intervals.
He had, naturally, picked up the Lanthaii messages on his set. Therewasn't an amateur operator in the world that hadn't detected them. Thatwas when he began to feel it wasn't a joke.
Reports came in. Dazo Osaki, the Japanese contact, reported hearing thestrange message; Lionel Bentham in Sussex picked it up also, as didMiguel Bartirone in Buenos Aires. EARTHMEN, THE LANTHAII ARE COMING.BEWARE! Someone—there was no doubt of it—was beaming the message atthe entire Earth from outside.
And then the Lanthaii had come.
Haverford, pacing his room nervously, remembered the day oftheir landing. He had been talking to Bentham, the Englishman, aslow-speaking, phlegmatic sort.
"—so I mean to write to my man in Parliament, y'know, and ask him toplump for the legislation. It'll be a great boon for ham operatorsif—Lord! What's that! What's that?"
Haverford had stared at the transmitter in shocked surprise asBentham's voice was replaced with the screeching of static, thensome other sounds he did not understand, followed by a quick, sharp,repulsive clicking, and—
Silence.
"Bentham! Bentham!"
Silence.
That had been the beginning. The Lanthaii had landed, all right. Thealien invaders were sweeping the world.
Haverford got the details from a news broadcast. They had come insilvery ships, hundreds of them. Thousands.
"You should have seen it," Bartirone told him, speaking in his accentedEnglish. "All over Buenos Aires, in midday—suddenly, the sky wasblotted out. Ships. Silvery ships. They seemed small. They started toland."
"Have you seen the invaders yourself?"
"No. Not yet. They haven't come this far west in the city yet. But—"
The Argentinan's voice stopped. Haverford listened numbly, knowingdespite himself exactly what had happened. The invaders had come.
He rose, looked around his room. He had enough food in the freezerand on the shelves to last for months. Haverford was a frugal man; bybuying in quantity, he saved precious cash that was used for augmentingthe radio set.
He decided to hide in his home—to seal it from the outside world, towait. Pe