I'd left the door open and I was sitting in a draft. So I had to--that compulsion--go close the door. _Then_ I sat down to think. Anyway I _thought_ I sat down to think. But, suddenly, my thoughts were not my own. I wasn't producing them; I was receiving them. "Barth! Oh, Land of Barth. Do you read us, oh Barthland? Do you read us?" I didn't hear that, you understand. It wasn't a voice. It was all thoughts inside my head. But to me they came in terms of words. I took it calmly. Surprisingly, I was no longer upset--which, as I think it over, was probably more an achievement of internal engineering than personal stability. "Yeah," I said, "I read you. So who in hell--" a poor choice of expression--"are you? What are you doing here? Answer me that." I didn't have to say it, the thought would have been enough. I knew that. But it made me feel better to speak out. "We are Barthians, of course. We are your people. We live here." "Well, you're trespassing on private property! Get out, you hear me? Get out!" "Now, now, noble Fatherland. Please, do not become upset and unreasonable. We honor you greatly as our home and country. Surely we who were born and raised here have our rights. True, our forefathers who made the great voyage through space settled first here in a frightful wilderness some four generations back. But we are neither pioneers nor immigrants. We are citizens born." "Invaders! Squatters!" "Citizens of Barthland." "Invaded! Good Lord, of all the people in the world, why me? Nothing like this ever happened to anyone. Why did I have to be picked to be a territory--the first man to have queer things living in me?" "Oh, please, gracious Fatherland! Permit us to correct you. In the day of our fathers, conditions were, we can assure you, chaotic. Many horrible things lived here. Wild beasts and plant growths of the most vicious types were everywhere." "There were----?" "What you would call microbes. Bacteria. Fungi. Viruses. Terrible devouring wild creatures everywhere. You were a howling wilderness. Of course, we have cleaned those things up now. Today you are civilized--a fine, healthy individual of your species--and our revered Fatherland. Surely you have noted the vast improvement in your condition!" "Yes, but----" "And we pledge our lives to you, oh Barthland. As patriotic citizens we will defend you to the death. We promise you will never be successfully invaded." Yeah. Well, that was nice. But already I felt as crowded as a subway train with the power cut out at rush hour. But there was no room for doubt either. I'd had it. I still did have it; had no chance at all of getting rid of it. They went on then and told me their story. I won't try to repeat it all verbatim. I couldn't now, since my memory--but that's something else. Anyway, I finally got the picture. But I didn't get it all the same evening. Oh, no. At ten I had to knock it off to go to bed, get my sleep, keep up my health. They were insistent.