 Adventures in time and space, told in future tense. Of the infinitude of stars and planets in the solar system and other systems in the universe, it is almost mathematically certain that there exist other forms of life on other worlds. Someday in the future, in a thousand years, or in the next ten minutes, daring travelers through space will make contact with the inhabitants of another world. But the question is, will we contact them first or will they contact us? Graphics of Springfield. I would like to see you, Mr. Broderick. Check. Si. A kind of a guy. A great big guy with big shining head and thick glasses, like the bottoms of Coca-Cola bottles. And he looks like a professor or something. What I mean is, does he look like a client or a bill collector? He didn't say. Okay, Iron Man, send him in. Check. Mr. Graphius, Mr. Broderick will see you. Mr. Broderick, in the flesh. Okay, Iron Man, step outside. Check. If you need me, I'll be outside. Well, I have to excuse Mr. Dolan. He's a very useful man if he happened to want a house moved or somebody's head unscrewed from their shoulders. His reflexes aren't too good. He's what you might call under-organized. I suspect it is much. All right, Mr. Graphius, let's get down to business. Precisely. I would like your assistance in helping me locate something here in New York City. Just what are you trying to locate, Mr. Graphius? The Martian Embassy. Would you say that again very slowly? I came to New York to locate the Martian Embassy. Martian? Like in Buck Rogers? Precisely. Agents of the government of the planet of Mars. Dolan! What's the trouble, boss? I'm out. He's a crackpot. Of course, if you wish me to leave, I will leave. But before I go, you might examine this. You'll find it quite authentic. Holy mackerel. A five-century note. Let me see that. Sit down, Mr. Graphius. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. Dolan, get Mr. Graphius a light. Check. Okay, Mr. Graphius. Your remarks about our speckled friends the Martians I shall ignore. This being the year 1955, I assume you were joking. On the contrary, I'm completely serious. As it happens, I'm interested only in Martians at the moment. I see. Okay, shoot. It occurred to me in the course of my studies that we Earth people cannot possibly be the only intelligent form of life in the universe. Out of the infinitude of stars and planets, there must definitely, mathematically, be others. Since Mars is older geologically and since it is also an atmospheric planet, its evolutionary history could easily be similar to ours. You follow me? So far, I can't say now. But if this is true, then they must have been watching us, observing us for hundreds, possibly thousands of years. What for? Blackmail? Shut up, Dolan. They know then that we are not far from achieving space travel. Atomic rocket ships that can travel to other planets. They also know we're a militaristic war like race. We might conceivably set out to conquer and occupy Mars one day. In which case they'd try to get the jump on it? Precisely, Mr. Broderick. And how would they do that? For a civilization as old as theirs, space travel would be a simple enough matter. Flying saucers? I've read about it. Relax, iron man. Go on, Mr. Grafius. If you were planning to attack an unknown nation, what would be your first move, Mr. Broderick? Intelligence. Find out what the odds are. You have a very logical mind, sir. You would send agents to scout the nerve centers of earthly civilization and advancement, not in Kansas City or Equatorial Africa, my dear sir, but here in New York City, the most technically advanced spot on earth. Uh-huh. And you want me to help you prove this theory of yours? Precisely. Expense does not interest me. Well, this may take a very long, long time, Mr. Grafius. After all, nobody's ever seen a Martian. I assure you there will be very ordinary appearing people. Likely they live together in downtown New York, close to the newspapers and publishers, the news cables, communication centers, and the financial center of Wall Street. Most certainly they live in a private house with no servants to pry into their affairs. The ordinary people who live in a private house in downtown New York. I might just as well look up Martians in the classified section of the phone book. There is one other lead which might help you. What's that? They would be almost certain to subscribe to every conceivable type of newspaper, scientific journal, foreign language publication. Uh-huh. Well, that might be something. Okay, Mr. Grafius. It's a deal. Excellent. I shall contact you tomorrow. Oh, well, before you leave. Yes? Just as a matter of interest. Why are you so interested in meeting up with these Martians? Mr. Broderick, I wish to avert the catastrophe of a successful Martian invasion of the earth. Naturally, I cannot go to the police or the military. I'd be laughed out of existence. So I'm doing this privately. You seem to know all the answers, Mr. Grafius. Not all of them, Mr. Broderick. Not quite all the answers. Not quite yet. The address takes everything from Pick magazine to the Manchester Guardian. Listen to this. Pick, Look, Scientific America, the Daily News, the Daily Worker, the Police Gazette, the Journal of Engineering, Scientific Quarterly, American Psychiatric Journal. Let me see that. Oh, Dolan. Dolan, sometimes I wonder. What's the address on this? Nine West, 124th Street. Which happens to be the Harlem branch of the public library. Oh. Now listen, noodle brain. Check all the renting agents. Find out every private house in downtown New York. And then cross-check with the magazine subscription departments of the scientific magazines. You got that? Check. I wonder. Boss, what's the sense of all this? We know there ain't no Martian Embassy in New York. This crackpot is paying us $100 a day, and we gotta keep them happy. Understand? Yeah. Also, I've got a hunch that Mr. Graffius isn't looking for any Martian embassies. He's looking for something quite different. I'll start making with a telephone. Which house is it, Dolan? Right down there, number 108. Did you find out anything? Not a thing. I've been watching the place for a week now. Nobody comes out, nobody goes in. I asked around, nobody knows nothing. You ain't been blabbing around the neighborhood that we're looking for the Martian Embassy, have you? Boss, I'm stupid. But A ain't that stupid. Who'd you talk to? I struck up what you might call a casual acquaintance with those two girls standing with the baby carriages up the street. The cute one is real cute. Now look, Dolan, don't try to do anything intelligent. Just keep walking up and down. See? Check. I'm going back to the office to meet Graffius. See you later, boss. At foot. How did you know I was a detective? Your socks are bagging at the arches. Well, stick around, beautiful. I'll be back in a few minutes and we can make some beautiful music together. Listen to Romeo, Helen. The name is Dolan, honey. Iron Man Dolan. Your line is getting rusty, Iron Man. What do you want to pull him on with him for? He reminds me of my husband. He's a big, good-matured, sloppy. Helen, Helen, look! Dolan found a house down in Greenwich Village, privately rented. Number 108 Conklin Street. Nobody seems to know anything about who lives there, except that they subscribe to every paper and scientific journal put out. And also they have a peculiar antenna on the roof. You don't suppose your Mr. Dolan will try to get inside the house? No, he knows better. Mr. Broderick, I assure you, if that place is the Martian Embassy... Dolan can take care of himself. Still, I wish you had informed me before. That's probably him reporting back now. Excuse me. Hello. Yeah, speaking. Dolan? Yeah, he works. What? Oh, no. No, I can't think of any. Yeah, sure, okay. Yeah, I'll be right down. Okay, Lieutenant. Yeah, yeah, right away. Something of the matter? Dolan is dead, Mr. Grapheus. What? He found him splattered all over the sidewalk in front of Number 108 Conklin Street. Oh, how did this happen? There were some witnesses. They said a building corner's dropped on him. The corner's? But how? It fell off the building next to Number 108, right on top of him. Come on, we can get a cab. I have to identify the body. He's your boy, Broderick. Not very pretty. That's a thousand-pound hunk of concrete. Where did it come from? Dropped off the roof of Number 106. Anybody see it? Yes, a couple of maids pushing baby carriages. One was so shaken, we had to send it to the hospital. The other one is hysterical, but she can talk. Can't seem to get any sense out of it, though. Do you mind if I talk to her? Out of it all. I'll be back in a minute, Grapheus. I'll read here. She's standing right over there with a patrolman on the beat. Oh, Hanson. Yes, sir? This guy wants a few questions with a girl. Please, I told you what I saw. How many times I've got to tell you. Yes, the dead man was a personal friend of mine. Would you tell me what happened, please? Helen and I were standing in front of Raphman's candy store up on the corner. We both had the babies out. I worked for Mrs. Gillian on Washington Square North. This... He said hello and joked a little. Then he walked down the street, just like he's been doing all week. Hadn't taken more than a few steps, but... What... Please, miss. It's very important. They tell him, but they don't believe me. What do you tell him? How it happened. Tell me. It's too awful. Please. Well... Well, first he... Well, I just... Then the stone fell on it. What do you mean, he squashed? They don't believe me, but Helen saw it too. She saw what? First... That's the story, Broderick. Please. Mr. Broderick, if I may make a suggestion at this point, perhaps it would be better if we dropped the entire matter. What's eating you? First, you come at me with a chain of nonsense that you're staking real cash on, and now when we hit a solid trail, you want to call off the dogs? Well, maybe you operate that way, but Broderick doesn't. May I ask then? What do you intend doing? As soon as the cops clear out in this place, quiet's down. I'm going to pay a personal call on the Martian Embassy. Whatever number 108 is. Drill you like a... Fair young man. Excuse me, ma'am. Is the lady of the house at home? I'm the lady of the house. Well, my name is Broderick. I represent the Manhattan Child Adoption Center. We're soliciting funds and clothing for stranded and unadopted children, and I wondered if... Oh, won't you come inside? Well, we don't usually... Oh, nonsense. I'm old enough to be your grandmother. Besides my son, Lauren, is working at home. Your son? He's a bibliographer. He writes summaries of articles and books from scientific journals and publications for libraries and universities. I see. Well, sit down, Mr. Broderick. We get so few calls, and I do like to visit. Well, thank you. What was it you wanted to talk to us about? Oh, well, I... I wondered if you were your son. There's nobody else living here. No, just Lauren and I. I'll have to ask him about the contribution, but I'm sure he'd like to. Good. Thank you very much. I'll send the representative to collect. Oh, please stay a moment. I was just about to have tea. Let me pour you a cup. Well, no, thanks, really. Now, young man, I insist. Well, thank you. I was getting awfully tired of having tea by myself every afternoon. You know, I'm not very much of a tea drinker, but this seems to have a strange taste. It's my own recipe. The secret is in the brewing. That's sweet. It's almost metallic. It takes a few sips to get used to, like olives. Uh-huh. Well, I think I better be running along. Oh, but you haven't finished your tea, Mr. Broderick. I better be going. I'm late. Oh, you're not being very polite. Do finish your tea. No, really. I feel funny. Oh, I'll call Lauren. No, no, I'm leaving. You're kind of dizzy. Oh, I'm sure Lauren can help you. I'll call him. No, no, no. But I must, besides you, aren't well. See? Lauren! Lauren, Lauren, hurry! Got us out of my way! No, you must stay! You've drugged my tea! Let go of my arm! Lauren! Let go! The other one said Broderick, he was here. I drugged his tea. He got away. Fool, idiot! Go after him. Use the pressure ray. Risk another murder on our doorstep. Are you insane? He suspects. We'll have to take our chances. We'll have to think of some other way. How did they find us? I don't know how, but I'm certain someone else sent them. Who? I don't know. I'm afraid to let myself think. It might be... them. Please, I... Get away from me. Miss, please. Let go of me. I'll help. Please. Help, officer. You don't understand. What's the trouble here? This drunkard is insulting people. I saw him come out of that house there. 108. That's the one. He bumped into a gentleman, and then he pulled at my arm. All right, miss. I'll take care of it. Come along, mister. I'm going to give you a break and take you back to the wife and kids. No, no, you can't. I'm sick. Sick, is it? What's the matter? Drugged. Hey, drugged me. Who drugged you? Number 108. Martians. Who? Martians. Number 108. It's a Martian embassy. Well, I've seen him with pink elephants, rabbits, and mice, but you're the first one who's got marks. That's true, I tell you. Uh-huh. Come along. Listen, listen. Don't take me back there. Don't kill me. I gotta make you understand. Here, here. I'll help you up the steps. Please, my name is Broderick. I'm a private dick. We'll find out about this. Here, don't fight me. Stop it, sir. Please, listen. I'll give you anything. I'll give you a thousand dollars. Please, listen. For God's sake, listen. Listen. Yes, officer. What? Broderick. Do you know this lush granny? Well, that's my son, Broderick. No, no. My son. He's in pretty bad shape. Get him to bed. Oh, dear. He was doing so well at the alcoholic society. He must have gotten off again. Looks like he's ready to pass out. Lauren, Lauren. What is it, Mother? Your brother, Broderick, has been drinking again. How's... Look out. He's passed out. I'll take care of him, officer. We've handled this sort of thing before. Can you manage okay? We'll be fine. Thank you. You've been very kind, officer. Well, nothing at all, Granny. I know how it is with these alkiers. Well, I'll be seeing you. Oh, Mr. Broderick is regaining. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Mr. Broderick is regaining consciousness, Mother. What happened? I can't get up. Do not struggle, Mr. Broderick. It'll be impossible for you to rise from that chair. The pressure from this ray will keep you there. Ray? What? Who are you? You've already guessed, Mr. Broderick. I mean, this really is the... Marshaan Embassy, yes. You have the honor to be the first prisoner of the imperial government of Mars. First prisoner? Yes. After the invasion, of course, she will all be our prisoners. Hey, look. What sort of a business is this? No business, Mr. Broderick, as your people will soon find out. Our preparations for invasion are nearly completed now. As soon as we give the signal, our armed forces will launch a surprise attack. And then the earth will be ours. You're crazy. Not half as mad as you, Mr. Broderick, to come muddling so foolishly into our affairs. That was a fatal mistake. Sir, Dolan's death. There was no accident then. Assuredly not. We found it necessary to use a pressure ray on your friend. The block of concrete was an afterthought. We thought it might help to avert suspicion. All right. What happens now? If you cooperate, you can look forward to a quick, painless death like your friend, Mr. Dolan. If not... This pressure ray has many delicate adjustments. It can move a pin, and crush a boulder. Let me demonstrate. You see, Mr. Broderick, as if an invisible vice for crushing you. What are you, what? The name of your client. We are interested in knowing who is so anxious to locate the Martian Embassy. The names of my clients are confidential. Well, turn it off, mother. Mr. Broderick has seen the wisdom of speech. His name is... Grafius. Grafius? Yeah. An unusual name for an earth man. Describe him. Well, I don't know if I really can. Mother... Oh! Describe him. He's tall. He's got a big forehead, and about 60. He wears thick glasses. He's bald. Lauren, it sounds like one of them. Yes, it does. Contact the planet. Tell them we suspect that our plan's unknown. Ask for an acceleration of invasion day. For what about me? I am sorry, Mr. Broderick, but I am afraid you know too much now. In exactly five seconds, you will feel the full impact of the ray which faces you. I would suggest that you relax and meet your fate calmly. Now, wait a minute. You will feel no pain, just a wall of force engulfing you. Oh, listen, I... Five. No, you can't do this. It isn't human. I know, but we are not human beings. Yeah, but... No! Oh, they're in heaven. It doesn't work. Something's happened. The magnetic field is dead. Get it working. We've got to get rid of this one. Now, listen. Listen, you go. Be quiet. I can't understand what's gone wrong with the ray. Why would it suddenly stop like that? Perhaps I can explain... What? Graphless. It's you. Yes. Lauren. Stand back from the pressure ray, please. It will not function anyway. I have decontrolled your field. Lauren, it's one of them. They've found us. Did you think we wouldn't? I trust you've not harmed my friend, Mr. Broderick. He's been very useful to me. Brother, am I very glad to see you. Talk about the Marines landing in the nick of time. You're free to move now, Mr. Broderick. I don't know how you got in here, Graphius, but stick around. These babies are really Martians, just like you said. They're planning to invade the earth and take over. There will be no marsh and invasions. You keep these characters covered. I'll get the police. There will be no need for the police. I intend to handle them myself. But the police will... Do not call the police. Why not? You fool of an earthling. Don't you realize with whom you are dealing, the invasion of earth by Mars will be like Charles Plague compared... Holy mackerel. They just flattened out. Like your friend, Mr. Doolin. I detest the use of violence where the intellect can rule. But unfortunately, the Martians are a threat to us. It must be destroyed. I believe you now. Another five seconds they'd have finished me. I'm glad you didn't waste any time. There is little time to waste. The Martian invasion was to have taken place next week. Yeah, I... Hey. They never said that. How do you know? You would not comprehend. Wait a minute. There are some things here I do understand. The second I go, that pressure rate didn't work. Now you're using it like it was a toy. How did you get in here anyway? Who are you? Another one of those Martians? No, Mr. Broderick. I happen to be a Venusian. What? A representative of the planet Venus. Venus? That's impossible. But it's all. The Martians are rarely an inferior race. We've adduced them much farther advanced. As much as we are over you, Mr. Broderick. The Martians would simply have conquered and enslaved your people. We've illusions felt compelled to exterminate you completely. That's impossible. Oh, no. Now that we have disposed of the Martian threat, what is there to stop us? Our invasion begins tomorrow at noon. By nightfall the earth will be ours. You're bothering them. Either I'm completely cuckoo or... Oh, well, this is really unbelievable. You needn't edge toward the door, Mr. Broderick. You're thinking of running for help, aren't you now? I can read your thoughts quite clearly. Suppose you're going to knock me off like our Martian friends. Oh, contrary. Go ahead. Leave? Why not? Why don't you try it, Mr. Broderick? Because the minute I turn my back, I'll let me have it. Suppose you try it and see. I have no interest in stopping you. Go ahead. All right. Buster, you ask for it! It will do you no good. No good! You will see! Hey, hey, where do you think you're running from? The officer, officer. Listen to me. Oh, it's you, the one with the Martian. Yeah, that's right. Now listen, that story is true. They're inside that house, inside number 108. He killed them. Who killed them? Matthew. He's the leader of the Venetian invasion. Venetian invasion? That's right. Tomorrow at noon, they're going to take over the earth. Now listen, go in that house. Martians? Now Venetian, eh? Okay, that's enough for me. Come along. Good. Good. We haven't got much time. Hey, wait. Where are you taking me? Bellevue Psychiatric Ward, my friend. Bellevue, no! Come along. No! Why don't you listen to me? Why are you such a fool? Let go of me! You're so fed for... No! I tell you, there's going to be an invasion. The Venetians are going to invade us. Don't you understand? You've got to believe me. You've got to believe me. All right. Why won't they believe me? I've just heard another adventure into the unknown world of the future. The world of... The story of Riesling, the strange blind singer of the spaceways. He traveled the space lines from Mars to Venus to the moons of Jupiter. No captain could refuse to carry Riesling and his battered guitar. He sang of all the wonders of the galaxy. But his greatest song was of the sight he would never see. The Green Hills of Earth. The Embassy. A story by Donald A. Walheim as adapted for radio by George Leffords. Joseph Julian was heard as Broderick. Barry Kroger as Grapheus. Your narrator was Norman Rose. Music by Albert Berman, engineer Don Abbott. Dimension X is produced by Van Woodward and directed by Edward King. Tomorrow, here, High Adventure. Now it's Truth or Consequences on NBC.