Joe Haldeman - Marsbound

“We just heard about the blessed event,” I said, as we sat down, “on Mars.”

“An interesting euphemism. So often otherwise, on Earth.”

“You’re requesting a replacement for yourself,” Paul said. “Do you expect to die soon?”

He shrugged slowly. “Like you, I could die anytime. But the reason for me to rush my replacement is less philosophical than economic.

“I’ve come to realize that I will never go back to Mars, and nor will any of the other Martians here. It’s expensive, in terms of redundant life support, and there is no way my leaving would profit the Corporation. On the contrary. No one else can deal with the Other as efficiently as I can.

“And it’s inconvenient for Mars, to have their leader so far away. Simple yes-or-no decisions can be delayed by more than a half hour.”

“Used to be half a day,” Paul said.

“Yes, I’m grateful for the repeater satellites. Still, the families should have a leader who is not absentee.”

“What will your status be,” I asked, “after he’s matured?”

“ ‘She,’ in this case. I suppose I’ll play an advisory role for a while. But I’ll probably be more involved with the Other than with Mars.”

“This will be the first time there have been two Reds alive at the same time.”

“Ha-ha. It doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.”

“What I mean is, in all of your history, you’ve only had one leader at a time.”

“And that will be she, once she learns what she needs to know. Which might be twelve ares, like me, or a couple of ares less or more. And then I will just be the old guy who went to Earth.”

“Who incidentally knows the secret language and speaks to creepy aliens and such.”

“True enough. I won’t forget the language. I don’t know whether it’s possible for us to forget a language.”

A chime rang, and Red made a kissing sound at the cube. A small square appeared in the middle with Dargo Solingen’s face. The background showed that she was standing outside the door.

“What may I do for you, Dargo?”

“I just heard about the… creation of your replacement, and wondered if I could talk to you.”

“Carmen Dula and Paul Collins are here.”

“I know that. I have no objection.”

Red inclined his head toward me, and I shrugged.

She came in dressed in regular short-sleeved coveralls. At least she wouldn’t be staying long.

She dove right in. “This may seem trivial, but some people have expressed concern about protocol. Does this… budding mean you are no longer the leader of the Martian people?”

“That was always a simplification, as you know. And we aren’t exactly people. But it’s true that the formation of another individual with my characteristics makes it less simple. If a parallel were to be drawn with human history, I suppose I am a regent now, ha-ha, as much as a leader. The new Red will take over when she knows enough and is strong enough.”

“Physically strong?” she asked.

“She will be, but no. You would say, ‘She has leadership qualities, ’ though I think it’s more definite with us. The things that she reads while learning her language, mine.”

Dargo stared intently at him, perhaps deciding what to say. “I don’t know whether Dula has told you. I was able to decipher the secret conversation you had with her.”

“I hadn’t gotten around to telling him yet.”

Red was louder than usual. “You are allowed to do that?”

“No rules cover it. As no rules cover what kind of music you have in the background when you—”

“That’s bullshit,” Paul said. “Space law is an extension of international law. If we had a jail, we could put you in it.”

“I don’t think you could, but it’s moot.” She looked at Red. “Your claims about what the Other could do to us… I don’t understand why you would entrust that knowledge to these two but not to the authorities.”

“Trust,” Red said. “Your word. I should have trusted you?”

“Yes. If you had trusted me… nothing would have happened.”

The cold air got heavier. “So what happened?” I was almost whispering.

“To extract your actual conversation from my recording, I had access to tools that drew the attention of security authorities. They asked me to cooperate, and presented a World Court subpoena for all the material on which I’d used those tools.”

“We’re not on the World , Dargo,” I said.

“My God,” Paul said. “What if it gets out? You may have killed us all.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” she snapped.

Red shook his head. “He may be right. I suppose it was only a matter of time, but I’d hoped it would be after my time.

“Did you stress the need for secrecy—I mean the possible consequences if the Other learned of this breach of confidence?”

“They have heard exactly what you said, including the fantastic threats.”

“Here is a fantastic threat,” he said, with a gesture I’d never seen: all four arms extended straight out and trembling. “Would you like to be the first human being to be killed by a Martian?”

He took one step toward her, and she made for the door with unsurprising speed.

She left the door open. I closed it softly. “What should we do, Red?”

He hugged himself in thought. “I wish I knew more about the Other. We have ancient traditions about their nature. But about this particular individual, you know about as much as I do… Well, there is one thing. It’s not reassuring.”

“What?”

“You know the Others on their home planet are technically immortal. That is, actually, they spend most of their ‘lives’ as dead as a rock. But they are revived every now and then. Do something and then return to the dormant state.

“This one is not that way, because it has to stay on the job until the job is done. The ten-to-the-seventh seconds figure, that’s how long it has lived. Continuously, for twenty-seven thousand years.

“And it envies its relatives for their periodic rest.”

In the dark cold, I broke into a sudden sweat. “It wants to die?”

“To die, or to return to where it can have its long rest. I’m not sure quite which state it was referring to. Or whether it feels there is much difference.”

Maybe that was why Martians had such a curious attitude toward death. It might reflect the attitude of their makers.

“Should you prepare it for the possibility of exposure?” Paul asked.

“As I say, I’m not sure. That might just make it push the button— or it might have been lying about that.”

“Let’s not take the chance,” I said. “Let’s hope her ‘authorities’ are more cautious than she was.”

Paul nodded, but his expression told how little hope he held out for that.

It took less than half a day. Unable to sleep, I got up around four and occupied myself answering mail that had piled up from family and friends. I was writing a note to Card when the screen chimed, and a red exclamation point started to strobe in the upper right-hand corner.

I asked for news but then toggled Life Today rather than the Times . Inch-high letters as red as the strobe: TRITON MONSTER THREATENS EARTH DOOM!! Martian Go-Between Reveals All!

I started to read the story, but it kept blurring. How could they do this?

The phone pinged, and it was Paul. “Sorry to wake—”

“I’m awake. I saw.”

“Jesus. What do we do now?”

“I think the question is what is it going to do now.”

“Yeah. Damn. Meet me down at the coffee?”

“There’ll be a run on it.” I dressed in a hurry and pinned my hair out of the way.