Robert Heinlein - Red Planet

"I'd like to see them try!"

"Me, too."

"I don't want them to try; I want to settle the matter first. We're going over to the Resident's office and offer to pay for the food you kids appropriated and, Jim, I'll offer to pay for me damage Willis did to Headmaster Howe's precious door. Then-"

"But, Dad, we oughn't to pay for that. Howe shouldn't have locked him up."

"I agree with the kid," said Mr. Sutton. 'The food, now, that's another matter. The boys took it; we pay for it."

"You're both right," agreed Mr. Marlowe, "but it's worth it to knock the props out of these ridiculous charges. Then I'm going to swear out a warrant against Howe for attempting to steal, or enslave, Willis. What would you say it was. Pat? Steal, or enslave?"

"Call it 'steal'; you'll not be raising side issues, then."

"All right. Then I shall insist that he consult the planet office before taking any action. I think that will stop his clock for the time being."

"Dad," put in Jim, "you aren't going to tell the Resident that we've found out about the migration frame-up, are you? He would just turn around and call Beecher."

"Not just yet, though he's bound to know at the town meeting. He won't be able to call Beecher then; Deimos sets in two hours." Mr. Marlowe glanced at his watch. "See you later, boys. We've got things to do."

Doctor MacRae looked up as they came in. "Maggie, bar the door!" he called out. "We've got two dangerous criminals."

"Howdy, Doc."

"Come in and rest yourselves. Tell me all about it."

It was fully an hour later that MacRae said, "Well, Frank, I suppose I had better look you over. Then I'll have a look at you, Jim."

"There's nothing wrong with me. Doc."

"How would like a clout in the head? Start some more coffee while I take care of Frank." The room was well stocked with the latest diagnostic equipment, but MacRae did not bother with it. He tilted Frank's head back, told him to say aaaah!, thumped his chest, and listened to his heart. "You'll live," he decided. "Any kid who can hitchhike from Syrtis to Charax will live a long time."

"'Hitchhike'?" asked Frank.

"Beat your way. It's an expression that was used way back when women wore skirts. Your turn, Jim." He took even less time to dispose of Jim. Then the three friends settled back to visit.

"I want to know more about this night you spent in the cabbage head," Doc announced. "Willis I can understand, since any Martian creature can tuck his tail in and live indefinitely without air. But by rights you two laddie bucks should have smothered. The plant closed up entirely?"

"Oh, yes," Jim assured him, then related the event in more detail. When he got to the point about the flashlight MacRae

stopped him.

"That's it, that's it. You didn't mention that before. The flashlight saved your lives, son."

"Huh? How?"

"Photosynthesis. You shine light on green leaf and it can no more help taking in carbon dioxide and giving off oxygen than you can help breathing." The doctor stared at the ceiling, his lips moving while he figured. "Must have been pretty stuffy, just the same; you were short on green leaf surface. What kind of a torch was it?"

"A G.E. 'Midnight Sun.' It was stuffy, terribly."

"A 'Midnight Sun' has enough candle power to do the trick. Hereafter I'll carry one if I'm going further than twenty feet from my front stoop. It's a good dodge."

"Something that still puzzles me," said Jim, "is how I could see a movie that covered every bit of the time I've had Willis, minute by minute, without missing anything, and have it turn out to be only three or four hours."

"That," Doc said slowly, "is not nearly so mysterious as the other matter, the matter of why you were shown this."

"Huh?"

"I've wondered about that, too," put in Frank. "After all, Willis is a pretty insignificant creature-take it easy, Jim! What was the point in running over his biography for Jim? What do you think. Doc?"

"The only hypothesis I've got on that point is so wildly fantastic that I'll keep it to myself, thank you. But on the point of time, Jim-can you think of any way to photograph a person's memories?"

"Uh, no."

"I'll go further and state flatly that it is impossible. Yet you described seeing what Willis remembered. That suggest anything to you?"

"No," admitted Jim, "it's got me stumped. But I did see it."

"Sure, you did-because seeing takes place in the brain and not in the eye. I can close my eyes and 'see' the Great Pyramid shimmering in the desert heat. I can see the donkeys and hear the porters yelling at the tourists. See 'em? Shucks, I can smell 'em-but it's just my memory.

Jim looked thoughtful but Frank looked incredulous. "Say, Doc, what are you talking about? You never saw the Great Pyramid; it was blown up in World War III." Frank was, of course, correct as to his historical facts; the eastern allies should never have used the Pyramid of Cheops as a place to stockpile atom bombs.

Doctor MacRae looked annoyed. "Can't you permit a man a figure of speech? You tend to your own business. Now back to what I was saying, Jim. When only one hypothesis covers the facts, you've got to accept it. You saw what the old Martian wanted you to see. Call it hypnosis."

"ButBut-" Jim was wildly indignant; it felt like an attack on his very inner being. "But I did see it, I tell you. I was there."

"I'll string along with Doc," Frank told him. "You were still seeing things on the trip back."

"How would you like a punch in the nose? The old boy did so make the trip back with us; if you had kept your eyes open, you would have seen him."

"Easy, there," cautioned Doc, "if you lugs want to fight, go outside. Has it occurred to you that both of you might be right?"

"What? How could we be?" objected Frank.

"I don't like to put words to it, but I can tell you this: I've lived long enough to know that man does not live by bread alone and that the cadaver I perform an autopsy on is not the man himself. The most wildly impossible philosophy of ail is materialism. We'll leave it at that."

Frank was about to object again when the lock signalled visitors; the boys' patents were back. "Come in, come in, gentlemen," the doctor roared. "You're just in time. We were having a go at solipsism. Pull up a pulpit and take part. Coffee?"

"Solipsism, is it?" said Mr. Sutton. "Francis, pay no mind to the old heathen. You listen to what Father deary tells you."

"He'll pay no mind to me anyhow," MacRae answered.

"That's the healthy thing about kids. How did you make out with the Lord High Executioner?"

Mr. Marlowe chuckled. "Kruger was fit to be tied."

The called meeting of the colonists took place that evening in the town hall, central building of the star-shaped group. Mr. Marlowe and Mr. Sutton, having sponsored the meeting, arrived early. They found the meeting-room doors closed and Kruger's two proctors posted outside. Mr. Marlowe ignored the fact (hat they had been attempting to arrest Frank and Jim only a few hours ago; he offered them a civil good evening and said, "Let's get the place opened up. People will be arriving any minute now."

The proctors did not move. The senior of diem, a man named Dumont, announced, "There'll be no meeting tonight."

"What? Why not?"

"Mr. Kruger's orders."

"Did he say why?"

"No."

"This meeting," Mr. Marlowe told him, "has been properly called and will be held. Stand aside."

"Now, Mr. Marlowe, don't make things tough for yourself. I've got my orders and-"

Mr. Sutton crowded forward. "Let me handle him, Jamie." He hitched at his belt. Behind me men, Frank glanced at Jim with a grin and hitched at his belt. All four of them were armed, as were the proctors; the two fathers had decided not to depend on Kruger's self-restraint while waiting for instructions from Syrtis Minor about the warrant.