CHAPTER V.
Blumberg Promises
The Martian began to speak slowly, carefully. Through long days andnights he had rehearsed his story, knowing he would have to tell it. Thepale young man helped him often, at points where he lacked words....
He told of the scarcity of water on Mars--of how there was only alittle, that had to be preserved carefully.
Here Blumberg interrupted. "How much water has this chap been drinking?"
"Less than a cup, sir--in almost ten days," said Edgar. "The attendantwas telling me ..."
Blumberg grunted. "Go on!" he said.
He told of the social order of Mars--of the three great classes: theAristocrats, the Scientists, and the Workers. The Aristocrats, heexplained, were the rulers, who utilized the knowledge of the Scientistsand the energy of the Workers to build up a State for themselves.
He told how, once a year, the water rushed down the canals from themelting polar ice caps, spreading vegetation over the face of theplanet, and of how quickly this precious water disappeared, evaporatedby the ever-shining sun, until there was none left for the thirstyplants, and they died. Thus, every year the famine was worse on Mars,and more Workers died.
He told how he, and other Scientists, had wanted to spread oil on thecanals to stop evaporation, and of how the Aristocrats had forbiddenthem to do it.
He told of the plan he had conceived to control the waters at the headof the canals when the ice melted in the spring, so as to force theAristocrats to come to terms.
And finally, he told of their premature discovery of his plan; of theirgreat anger and fear; of their determination to punish him as no man hadever been punished before; of his banishment from the very world inwhich he lived.
There was a long silence when he had finished. At last Blumberg coughed,and shook himself.
"That's a fine story," he grumbled, "but you left somethin' out.... WhatI wanta know is: how did you get _here_?"
"In a space traveller," said the Martian.
"What's that?"
Carefully, laboriously, he described the space ship. With the pencil hesketched diagram after diagram, while the pale young man helped him andlabeled them as he directed. The young man was becoming visibly excited.When the Martian had finished, he burst out:
"By god, it would--it _would_ do it!... Look--"
"Shut up!" said Blumberg. The perspiration was standing out in largebeads on his forehead.
"Fellow," he said heavily, "if you're lying, you've got one hell of animagination!"
"You not have space travellers?" asked the Martian tensely.
"No.... Just ships that travel in air," answered the pale young man. Heheard the other's painful catch of breath, and continued quickly: "Butwith these diagrams it would be easy to--"
"Shut up, Edgar.... Shut up--an' get outta here!" barked the big man.The other turned, and left the room without a word.
"Now, look here, fellow," said Blumberg, "I'm goin' to take your wordfor it. I'm probably crazy to believe you; but I've seen most of thefunny critters of this world in my time, an' I ain't ever seen one likeyou. So you may come from Mars, for all I know."
The other looked at him eagerly, trying to understand his words. "Youthink I am man of Lo--of Mars?"
"Yes--that's right."
The Martian quivered with excitement. He held out his arms in a gestureof appeal.
"You help me?..."
"Yes."
"You help me go to Mars?"
Blumberg looked down at the desktop, and was silent.
"Yes. I'll help you," said Blumberg suddenly. He stood up, and pattedthe other softly on the head.... "Sure ... you bet!"
* * * * *
The Martian lay upon his back on a leather couch in a small room wherethey had taken him. His eyes were wide and shining. His hands clenchedand opened convulsively. It seemed to him that he had been waiting fordays.
The door opened, and Blumberg entered, followed by a smaller man. As theMartian struggled to his knees to greet him, he spoke heartily.
"Hello there! Think I wasn't comin'? No use being in too much of ahurry, y'know.... Meet Dr. Smith. He's a scientist like you...."
The Martian nodded and smiled at them happily. Dr. Smith looked at himlong and curiously, meanwhile automatically seating himself in a chairclose to the couch. Blumberg, who was pacing the room, cleared histhroat.
"Now, look here," he said, "I'm willing to help you, but you've got tohelp me do it ...--"
The Martian understood him immediately.
"Yes!" he replied quickly. "Yes."
"Good!... Now, Dr. Smith is going to ask you questions about things weneed to know. You tell him all you can."
"Yes ... I tell him!"
Dr. Smith had many questions to ask, on many and diverse subjects. Atfirst, communication between the two was very difficult; but both werehighly intelligent and understanding men, and before long they becamefairly successful in exchanging ideas. Blumberg paced constantly aboutthe room. Occasionally he went out, but always returned quickly.
The catechism went on for hours; and ended only to be resumed early thenext day.
And so it continued on the following day, and on the day after. TheMartian was puzzled. They seemed to want to know so many things! Dr.Smith had questioned him on every subject--mechanics, electricity,magnetism, chemistry, colloids, catalysts, transmutation ofmetals--everything. He feared that they were wasting time, but did notthink it proper to object when they were going to so much trouble on hisaccount. Nevertheless, he could not help worrying; and that night, whenthe pale young man brought him his food, he asked timidly:
"Do they make the ship?..."
The pale young man looked at the floor, biting his lips. Then he went tothe door, opened it, and looked out into the hall. He closed the doorsoftly, and came near the couch. He looked straight into the Martian'seyes.
"There is no ship!"
"No ship?"
"No." The young man was flushed and angry. He spoke very fast: "That fatcrook is not helping you.... But you are helping him--you bet!..."
"Does--does he not think--think I am the Martian?..."
"Oh, he thinks you're a Martian, all right! He knows you are. He'staking out patents already."
The other shook his head uncomprehendingly.
"Don't you see it? Where you come from they know things that they nevereven imagined here. You got knowledge in your head worth millions ofdollars; I mean, you have facts which are of great value to Blumberg.Why, already you've told him to make gold out of lead--something veryprecious from something worthless. And a hundred other things besides.
"He does not care about you; he cares about your knowledge.... Do yousee?"
"Yes."
The young man's anger suddenly abated, and he glanced fearfully at thedoor.
"I'm sorry," he said gruffly, "but somebody had to tell you. You won'tget any help here!"
He turned, and almost ran from the room.
* * * * *
The Martian sat perfectly still for a long time. Then he climbed downfrom the couch, and crawled to the door. He reached up and grasped theknob. The young man had left it unlocked, and in a moment he was in thedim hallway. He crawled along, keeping close to the wall, until he cameto the top of a stairway. He felt the cool night air on his face. Veryslowly he lowered himself down the steps. He came to a wide door leadingout into the open.
Seated in a chair by this doorway was a man, whistling. The Martianwaited patiently in the shadows until the man stood up, yawned, andstrolled away.
Outside, there were high, dark buildings all around him. He foundhimself in a narrow canyon running between them. He crawled down thiscanyon to the right, close against the buildings. The paving beneath himwas hard, and hurt his knees. But he did not stop.
Someone was walking towards him. He could not escape being seen. He wasnear a large light on a pole. He raised his hand in a gesture ofgreet
ing....
It was a woman. Suddenly she saw him, and gasped. Then shescreamed--piercingly. The sound echoed and re-echoed between the highwalls of the buildings.
Windows and doors banged. Footsteps pounded on the pavement. Soon therewere many people around him. Some of them were holding the woman. Shehung limply in their arms.
A man strode into the group, swinging a club, and speakingauthoritatively:
"Here! What's the trouble? Move on there!" He glanced at the woman."Fainted? Take her to a drug store, somebody. She'll be all right....What's this?" He grasped the Martian by the arm, and raised him to thelight.... "Well, I'm damned!"
Followed by the curious crowd, he half carried, half dragged his captivealong the street, around a corner, and through a lighted doorway. Heslammed the door shut.
"Found a freak, Yer Honor.... Scared a woman half to death! It mustagot outa the 'Garden'; I found it on Forty-ninth Street...."
The man seated behind the high desk nodded, and picked up a telephone.Into this he spoke in a low voice, waited, and then spoke again. Finallyhe laid it down, and said, "He is coming over. Hold on to it." Heresumed his writing.
The Martian watched the man writing on the high desk. He thought thatthis man must be some person of authority--some ruler of the people,perhaps. After long and painful uncertainty, he nerved himself to speak:
"Please help me...."
The man behind the desk looked up and smiled. "Yes. That is what we arehere for.... Only be patient," he said, and returned to his writing.
The Martian remained quiet. He would not dare disturb the man again, buthe kept watching him....
"Good morning, Your Honor!"
At the sound of the voice, he gave a start of surprise and fear.Blumberg walked towards him, smiling. He struggled, and averted hiseyes. But his captor held him tightly. Blumberg patted him on the headwith his large, soft hand. He trembled.
"One of yours?" said the man behind the high desk. "What is the troublewith him? He seems distressed."
Blumberg smiled at the other, and tapped his own head three times withhis fingertip. The other raised his eyebrows.
"Tell the Judge about yourself," said Blumberg softly. "He is a greatman, and he can help you."
The Martian was surprised that Blumberg would allow him to speak. Hemade a desperate effort:
"I am a native of Mars. Please, I must return home. Please help me....I--"
"See!" said Blumberg. He was laughing.
The Judge nodded. "Can you handle him?" he asked.
"Sure! They get along better with me than in--other places. I know howto treat 'em; and they make a good living."
"All right," said the Judge. "Take him along. But don't let me catch himrunning around the streets again, or you might rate a fine."
"Don't worry! We're going on the road in a couple of days now. You won'tsee him again.... Well, good morning to you!"
"Good morning!" said the Judge.
The Martian lay, face down, on the leather couch. Over him stoodBlumberg, breathing hard. With a light cane that he carried he struckthe Martian sharply on his frail back.
"Don't try it again, or you'll get more of that!" he said softly.
The Martian did not move or utter a sound until he heard the door slam.Then he made his way to the table; and, grasping the edge, pulledhimself erect. There was something on the table that he wanted....
The door opened softly, and the pale young man came in.
"You should not have tried it," he whispered.
The Martian pointed to the window. Over the top of a building lower thanits neighbors a small, square patch of sky was visible, and in thispatch a few stars twinkled faintly.
"Is Mars there?" he asked.
The young man was silent for a moment, looking at the floor and bitinghis lips. Then:
"Yes," he said. "As it happens, it is. Mars is the brightest of thosestars, and the topmost."
"Thank you," said the Martian. "You have been very kind to me!"
The pale young man looked at him, and at the table. Then he turned,without a word, and left the room.
The Martian did not take his eyes from the little point of light. Butone of his hands reached over the table, and grasped a knife which laythere. His eyes still on Loten--his home, he plunged the knife into hisheart. And the little point of light, while he fixedly watched it,flickered--and died.
THE END.
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