Robert Heinlein - Red Planet

Nor was he.

They hurried after Gekko and reached him at the air lock. No one stopped Gekko; no one stopped them. The repeated indoctrination concerning Martians swept a path before them. Outside Gekko turned to them. "Where is the other one, who would do harm to the little one?"

Frank explained that Beecher was some distance away and not available. "You will show us," announced Gekko and picked them both up. Another Martian relieved him of Frank.

Jim felt himself cradled in the soft palm flaps, even as Willis was still cradled in Jim's arms. Willis extended his eyes, looked around and remarked, "Fine ride, huh?" Jim was not sure.

The Martians ambled through town at an easy eight miles an hour, over the bridge, and to the planet offices. The pressure lock there was higher and larger than that at the school; the entire party went inside. The ceiling of the building's foyer was quite high enough for even the tallest Martian. Once they were inside Gekko set Jim down, as did the Martian carrying Frank.

There had been the same scurrying surprise as at the school. MacRae came out and looked the situation over without excitement. "What's all this jamboree?" he asked.

"They want to talk to Beecher," Frank explained.

MacRae raised his eyebrows, then spoke in clear Martian. One of them answered him; they conversed back and forth.

"Okay, I'll get him," agreed MacRae, then repeated it in Martian. He went into the offices. He returned in a few minutes, pushing Beecher in front of him, and followed by Rawlings and Marlowe. "Some people to see you," MacRae said and gave Beecher a shove that carried him out onto the floor of the foyer.

"This is the one?" inquired the Martian spokesman.

"This is verily the one."

Beecher looked up at them. "What do you want me for?" he said in Basic. The Martians moved so that they were on all sides of him. "Now you get away from me!" he said. They moved in slowly, tightening the circle. Beecher attempted to break out of it; a great hand flap was placed in his way. They closed in further. Beecher darted this way and that, then he was concealed completely from the spectators by a screen of palm flaps. "Let me out!" he was heard to shout. "I didn't do anything. You've got no right to-" His voice stopped in a scream.

The circle relaxed and broke up. There was no one inside it, not even a spot of blood on the floor.

The Martians headed for the door. Gekko stopped and said to Jim, "Would you return with us, my friend?"

"No-oh, no," said Jim. "I have to stay here," then remembered to translate.

"And the little one?"

"Willis stays with me. That's right, isn't it, Willis?"

"Sure, Jim boy."

"Then tell Gekko so." Willis complied. Gekko said farewell sadly to the boys and to Willis and went on out the lock.

MacRae and Rawlings were in whispered, worried conference at the spot where Beecher had last been seen; Captain Marlowe was looking sleepy and confused and listening to them. Frank said, "Let's get out of here, Jim."

"Right."

The Martians were still outside. Gekko saw them as they came out, spoke to one of his kind, then said, "Where is the learned one who speaks our speech? We would talk with him."

"I guess they want Doc," said Frank.

"Is that what he meant?"

"I think so. We'll call him." They went back inside and dug MacRae out of a cluster of excited humans. "Doc," said Frank, "they want to talk with you-the Martians."

"Eh?" said MacRae. "Why me?"

"I don't know."

The doctor turned to Marlowe. "How about it. Skipper? Do you want to sit in on this?"

Mr. Marlowe rubbed his forehead. "No, I'm too confused to try to handle the language. You take it."

"Okay." MacRae went for his suit and mask, let me boys help dress him, and then did not deny them when they tagged along. However, once outside, they held back and watched from a distance.

MacRae walked down to me group standing on the ramp and addressed them. Voices boomed back at him. He entered the group and the boys could see him talking, answering, gesticulating with his hands. The conference continued quite a long time.

Finally MacRae dropped his arms to his sides and looked tired. Martian voices boomed in what was plainly farewell, then the whole party set out at a rapid, leisurely pace for the bridge and their own city. MacRae plodded back up the ramp.

In the lock Jim demanded, "What was it all about. Doc?"

"Eh? Hold your peace, son."

Inside MacRae took Marlowe's arm and led him toward the office they had pre-empted. "You, too, Rawlings. The rest of you get about your business." Nevertheless the boys tagged along and MacRae let them come in. "You might as well hear it; you're in it up to your ears. Mind that door, Jim. Don't let anyone open it."

"Now what is it?" asked Jim's father. "What are you looking so grim about?"

"They want us to leave."

"Leave?"

"Get off Mars, go away, go back to Earth."

'^What? Why do they suggest that?"

"It's not a suggestion; it's an order, an ultimatum. They aren't even anxious to give us time enough to get ships here from Earth. They want us to leave, every man jack, woman, and child; they want us to leave right away-and they aren't fooling!"

Willis

FOUR DAYS LATER Doctor MacRae stumbled into the same office. Marlowe still looked tired, but this time it was MacRae who looked exhausted. "Get these other people out of here. Skipper."

Marlowe dismissed them and closed the door. "Well?"

"You got my message?"

"Yes."

"Is the Proclamation of Autonomy written? Did the folks go for it?"

"Yes, it's written-we cribbed a good deal from the American Declaration of Independence I'm afraid, but we wrote one."

"I'm not interested in the rhetoric of the thing! How about it?"

"It's ratified. Easily enough here. We had quite a few startled queries from the Project camps, but it was accepted. I guess we owe Beecher a vote of thanks on that; he made independence seem like a fine idea."

"We owe Beecher nothing! He nearly got us all killed."

"Just how do you mean that?"

"I'll tell you-but I want to know about the Declaration. I had to make some promises. It's gone off?"

"Radioed to Chicago last night. No answer yet. But let me

ask the questions: were you successful?"

"Yes." MacRae rubbed his eyes wearily. "We can stay. 'It was a great fight. Maw, but I won.' They'll let us stay."

Marlowe got up and started to set up a wire recorder. "Do you want to talk it into the record and save having to go over it again?"

MacRae waved it away. "No. Whatever formal report I make will have to be very carefully edited. I'll try to tell you about it first." He paused and looked thoughtful. "Jamie, how long has it been since men first landed on Mars? More than fifty Earth years, isn't it? I believe I have teamed more about Martians in the past few hours than was learned in all that time. And yet I don't know anything about them. We kept trying to think of them as human, trying to force them into our molds. But they aren't human; they aren't anything like us at all."

He added, "They had interplanetary flight millions of years back... had it and gave it up."

"What?" said Marlowe.

"It doesn't matter. It's not important. It's just one of the things I happened to find out while I was talking with the old one, the same old one with whom Jim talked. By the way, Jim was seeing things; he's not a Martian at all."

"Wait a minute-what is he, then?"

"Oh, I guess he's a native of Mars all right, but he isn't what you and I mean by a Martian. At least he didn't look like one to me."

"What did he look like? Describe him."

MacRae looked puzzled. "Uh, I can't. Maybe Jim and I each saw what he wanted us to see. Never mind. Willis has to go back to the Martians and rather soon."