Philip Dick - Martian Time-Slip

“It sounds fine to me,” Arnie said.

“And you will not fail the boy.”

“Oh, heck, no,” Arnie promised. “I’ll make all the arrangements with the UN right away--it’s complicated, but I got lawyers who can handle stuff like that without even half trying.”

“Good,” Helio said, nodding. “It would be foul to let the boy down. If you could for a moment experience his terrible anxiety about his future life in that place--“

“Yeah, it sounds awful,” Arnie agreed.

“What a shame it would be,” Helio said, eyeing him, “if you yourself did ever have to endure that.”

“Where is Manfred right now?”

“He is walking about the streets of Lewistown,” Helio said. “Taking in the sights.”

“Cripes, is it safe?”

“I think so,” Helio said. “He is much excited by the people and stores and activity; it is all new to him.”

“You sure have helped that kid,” Arnie said.

The door chimes sounded, and Helio went to answer. When Arnie looked up, there stood Jack Bohlen and Doreen Anderton, both of them with fixed, high-strung expressions.

“Oh, hi,” Arnie said, preoccupied. “Come on in; I was about to call you, Jack. Listen, I got a job for you.”

Jack Bohlen said, “Why did you buy my contract from Mr. Yee?”

“Because I need you,” Arnie said. “I’ll tell you why right now. I’m going on a pilgrimage with Manfred and I want somebody to circle around overhead so we don’t get lost and die of thirst. We got to walk across the desert to the F.D.R. Mountains; isn’t that right, Helio?”

“Yes, Mister,” Helio said.

“I want to get started right away,” Arnie explained. “I figure it’s about a five-day hike. We’ll take a portable communications rig with us so we can notify you when we need something like food or water. At night you can land the ‘copter and pitch a tent for us to sleep in. Make sure you get medical supplies on board in case either Manfred or I get bit by a desert animal; I hear there’s Martian snakes and rats running around wild out there.” He examined his watch. “It’s three now; I’d like to get started by four and get in maybe five hours tonight.”

“What’s the purpose of this--pilgrimage?” Doreen asked presently.

“I got business out there to attend to,” Arnie said. “Out among those desert Bleekmen. Private business. Are you coming along in the ‘copter? If so you better put on something different, maybe boots and heavy pants, because it’s always possible you fellas might get forced down. That’s a long time, five days, to keep circling. Make sure in particular about the water.”

Doreen and Jack looked at each other.

“I’m serious,” Arnie said. “So let’s not stop to mess around. O.K?”

“As far as I can tell,” Jack said to Doreen, “I have no choice. I have to do what he tells me.”

“That’s the truth, buddy,” Arnie agreed. “So start rounding up the equipment we’ll need. Portable stove to cook on, portable light, portable bathroom, food and soap and towels, a gun of some sort. You know what we’ll need; you’ve been living on the edge of the desert.”

Jack nodded slowly.

“What is this business?” Doreen said. “And why do you have to walk? If you have to go there, why can’t you fly as you usually do?”

“I just have to walk,” Arnie said with irritation. “That’s the way it is; it wasn’t my idea.” To Helio he said, “I can fly back, can’t I?”

“Yes, Mister,” Helio said. “You may return any way you prefer.”

“It’s a good thing I’m in top-notch physical shape,” Arnie said, “or this would be out of the question. I hope Manfred can make it.”

“He is quite strong, Mister,” Helio said.

“You’re taking the boy,” Jack murmured.

“That’s right,” Arnie said. “Any objections?”

Jack Bohlen did not answer, but he looked more grim than ever. Suddenly he burst out, “You can’t make the boy walk for five days across the desert--it’ll kill him.”

“Why can’t you go in some surface vehicle?” Doreen asked. “One of those little tractor-jitneys that the UN post office people use to deliver the mail. It would still take a long time; it would still be a pilgrimage.”

“What about that?” Arnie said to Helio.

After some reflection, the Bleekman said, “I suppose that little cart of which you speak would do.”

“Fine,” Arnie said, deciding then and there. “I’ll phone a couple of guys I know and pick up one of those P0 jitneys. That’s a good idea you gave me, Doreen; I appreciate it. Of course, you two still have to be there overhead to make sure we don’t break down.”

Both Jack and Doreen nodded.

“Maybe when I get there, where I’m going,” Arnie said, “you’ll maybe find out what I’m up to.” In fact you darn well are going to, he said to himself; there’s no doubt about that.

“This is all very strange,” Doreen said; she stood close to Jack Bohlen, holding on to his arm.

“Don’t blame me,” Arnie said. “Blame Helio.” He grinned.

“That is true,” Helio said. “It was my idea.”

But their expressions remained.

“Talked to your dad yet today?” Arnie asked Jack.

“Yes. Briefly, on the phone.”

“His claim filed now, all recorded? No hitches?”

Jack said, “He says it was processed properly. He’s preparing to return to Earth.”

“Efficient operation,” Arnie said. “I admire that. Shows up here on Mars, stakes out his claim, goes to the abstract office and records it, then flies back. Not bad.”

“What are you up to, Arnie?” Jack said in a quiet voice.

Arnie shrugged. “I got this holy pilgrimage to make, along with Manfred. That’s all.” He was, however, still grinning; he could not help it. He could not stop, and he did not bother to try.

Use of the UN post office jitney cut the proposed pilgrimage from Lewistown to Dirty Knobby from five days to a mere eight hours; or so Arnie calculated. Nothing to do now but go, he said to himself as he paced about his living room.

Outside the building, at the curb, Helio sat in the parked jitney with Manfred. Through the window Arnie could see them, far below. He got his gun from his desk drawer, strapped it on inside his coat, locked up the desk, and hurried out into the hall.

A moment later he emerged on the sidewalk and made for the jitney.

“Here we go,” he said to Manfred. Helio stepped from the jitney, and Arnie seated himself behind the tiller. He revved up the tiny turbine engine; it made a noise like a bumblebee in a bottle. “Sounds good,” he said heartily. “So long, Helio. If this goes off O.K., there’s a reward for you-- remember that.”

“I expect no reward,” Helio said. “I am only doing my duty by you, Mister; I would do it for anyone.”

Releasing the parking brake, Arnie pulled out into downtown Lewistown late-afternoon traffic. They were on their way. Overhead, Jack Bohlen and Doreen were no doubt cruising in the ‘copter; Arnie did not bother to search for sign of them, taking it for granted that they were there. He waved goodbye to Helio, and then a huge tractor-bus filled in all the space behind the jitney; Helio was cut off from view.

“How about this, Manfred?” Arnie said, as he guided the jitney toward the perimeter of Lewistown and the desert beyond. “Isn’t this something? It makes almost fifty miles an hour, and that isn’t hay.”

The boy did not respond, but his body trembled with excitement.

“This is the nuts,” Arnie declared, in answer to his own query.

They had almost left Lewistown when Arnie became aware of a car which had pulled up beside them and was proceeding at the same speed as theirs. He saw, within the car, two figures, a man and a woman; at first he thought it was Jack and Doreen, and then he discovered that the woman was his ex-wife Anne Esterhazy and the man was Dr. Milton Glaub.