WHILE MRS. DOUGLAS WAS SPEAKING too freely on a subject she knewtoo little about, Jubal E. Harshaw, LL.B., M.D., Sc.D., bon vivant, gourmet,sybarite, popular author extraordinary, and neopessimist philosopher, wassitting by his swimming pool at his home in the Poconos, scratching the thickgrey thatch on his chest, and watching his three secretaries splash in thepool. They were all three amazingly beautiful; they were also amazingly goodsecretaries. In Harshaw’s opinion the principle of least action required thatutility and beauty be combined.
Anne was blonde, Miriam was red-headed, and Dorcas was dark; in eachcase the coloration was authentic. They ranged, respectively, from pleasantlyplump to deliciously slender. Their ages spread over fifteen years but it washard to tell off hand which was the eldest. They undoubtedly had last namesbut Harshaw’s household did not bother much with last names, One of themwas rumored to be Harshaw’s own granddaughter but opinions varied as towhich one it was.
Harshaw was working as hard as he ever worked. Most of his mind wasoccupied with watching pretty girls do pretty things with sun and water~ onesmall, shuttered, sound-proofed compartment was composing. He claimedthat his method of literary composition was to hook his gonads in parallel withhis thalamus and disconnect his cerebrum entirely; his habits lent somecredibility to the theory.
A microphone on a table at his right hand was hooked to a voicewriter in hisstudy but he used the voicewriter only for notes. When he was ready to wntehe used a human stenographer and watched her reactions. He was readynow. .Front!“ he shouted.
.Anne is .front,’ .answered Dorcas. .But I’ll take it. That splash was Anne.“.Dive in and get her. I can wait.“ The little brunette cut the water; a fewmoments later Anne climbed out, put on a towel robe, dried her hands on it,and sat down on the other side of the table. She said nothing, nor did shemake any preparations; Anne had total recall, never bothered with recordingdevices.
Harshaw picked up a bucket of ice cubes over which brandy had beenpoured, took a deep swig. .Anne, I’ve got a really sick-making one. It’s abouta little kitten that wanders into a church on Christmas Eve to get warm.
Besides being starved and frozen and lost, the kitten has-God knows why-aninjured paw. All right; start: .Snow had been falling since-.
.What pen name?“.Mmm ... better use .Molly Wadsworth’ again. This one is pretty icky. And titleit The Other Manger. Start again.“ He went on talking while watching herclosely. When tears started to leak out of her closed eyes he smiled slightlyand closed his own eyes. By the time he finished, tears were running downhis cheeks as well as hers, both bathed in a catharsis of schmaltz.
.Thirty,“ he announced. .You can blow your nose. Send it off and for God’ssake don’t let me see it or I’ll tear it up.“.Jubal, aren’t you ever ashamed?“.No.“.Someday I’m going to kick you right in your fat stomach for one of these.“.I know. But I can’t pimp for my sisters; they’d be too old and I never had any.
Get your fanny indoors and take care of it before I change my mind.“.Yes, boss.“She kissed his bald spot as she passed behind his chair. Harshaw yelled,.Front!“ again and Miriam started toward him. But a loudspeaker mounted onthe house behind him came to life:
.Boss!“Harshaw uttered one word and Miriam clucked at him reprovingly. Headded, .Yes, Larry?“The speaker answered, .There’s a dame down here at the gate who wants tosee you-and she’s got a corpse with her.“Harshaw considered this for a moment. .Is she pretty?“ he said to themicrophone.
.Uh ... yes.“.Then why are you sucking your thumb? Let her in.“ Harshaw sat back.
.Start,“ he said. .City montage dissolving into a medium two-shot, interior. Acop is seated in a straight chair, no cap, collar open, face covered withsweat. We see only the back of the other figure, which is depthed between usand the cop. The figure raises a hand, bringing it back and almost out of thetank. He slaps the cop with a heavy, meaty sound, dubbed.“ Harshawglanced up and said, .We’ll pick up from there.“ A ground car was rolling upthe hill toward the house.
Jill was driving the car; a young man was seated beside her. As the carstopped near Harshaw the man jumped out at once, as if happy to divorcehimself from car and contents. .There she is, Jubal.“.So I see. Good morning, little girl. Larry, where is this corpse?“.In the back seat, Boss. Under a blanket.“.But it’s not a corpse,“ Jill protested. .It’s ... Ben said that you... I mean-. Sheput her head down on the controls and started to cry.
.There, my dear,“ Harshaw said gently. .Very few corpses are worth it.
Dorcas-Miriam-take care of her. Give her a drink . . . and wash her face.“He turned his attention to the back seat, started to lift the blanket. Jillshrugged off Miriam’s proffered arm and said shrilly, .You’ve got to listen!
He’s not dead. At least I hope not. He’s . . . oh dear!“ She started to cryagain. .I’m so dirty ... and so scared!“.Seems to be a corpse,“ Harshaw said meditatively. .Body temperature isdown to air temperature, I should judge. The rigor is not typical. How longhas he been dead?“.But he’s not dead! Can’t we get him out of there? I had an awful timegetting him in.“.Surely. Larry, give me a hand. And quit looking so green, Larry. If you puke,you’ll clean it up.“ Between them they got Valentine Michael Smith out of theback seat and laid him on the grass by the pool; his body remained stiff, stillhuddled together. Without being told Dorcas had gone in and fetched Dr.
Harshaw’s stethoscope; she set it on the ground by Smith, switched it on andstepped up the gain.
Harshaw stuck the headpiece in his ears, started sounding for heart beat.
.I’m afraid you’re mistaken,“ he said gently to Jill. .This one is beyond myhelp. Who was he?“Jill sighed. Her face was drained of expression and she answered in a fiatvoice, .He was the Man from Mars. I tried so hard.“.I’m sure you did-the Man from Mars?“.Yes. Ben ... Ben Caxton said you were the one to come to.“.Ben Caxton, eh? I appreciate the confid-hush/“ Harshaw emphasized thedemand for silence with a hand upheld while he continued to frown andlisten. He looked puzzled, then surprise burst over his face. .Heart action! I’llbe a babbling baboon. Dorcas-upstairs, the clinic- third drawer down in thelocked part of the cooler; the code is .sweet dreams.’ Bring the whole drawerand pick up a 1 cc. hypo from the sterilizer.“.Right away!“.Doctor, no stimulants!“Harshaw turned to Jill. .Eh?“.I’m sorry, sir. I’m just a nurse ... but this case is different. I know.“.Mmm ... he’s my patient now, nurse. But about forty years ago I found Out Iwasn’t God, and about ten years thereafter I discovered I wasn’t evenAesculapius. What do you want to try?“.I just want to try to wake him up. If you do anything to him, he just goesdeeper into it.“.Hmm ... go ahead. Just as long as you don’t use an ax. Then we’ll try mymethods.“.Yes, sir.“ Jill knelt beside him, Started gently trying to straighten out hislimbs. Harshaw’s eyebrows went up when he saw that she had succeeded.
Jill took Smith’s head in her lap and cradled it gently in her hands. .Pleasewake up,“ she said softly. .This is Jill ... your water brother.“The body stirred. Very slowly the chest lifted. Then Smith let out a longbubbling sigh and his eyes opened. He looked up at Jill and smiled his babysmile. Jill smiled back. Then he looked around and the smile left him.
.It’s all right,“ Jill said quickly. .These are all friends.“.All friends?“.That’s right. All of them are your friends. Don’t worry-and don’t go awayagain. Everything is all right.“He did not answer but lay still with his eyes open, staring at everything andeveryone around him. He seemed as content as a cat in a lap.
Twenty-five minutes later Harshaw had both of his patients in bed. Jill hadmanaged to tell him, before the pill he gave her took hold, enough of thesituation to let him know that he had a bear by the tail. Ben Caxton wasmissing-he’d have to try to figure out something to do about that- and youngSmith was as hot as a dry bearing . . . although he had been able to guessthat when he heard who he was. Oh, well, life might be amusing for a while; itwould keep back that grey boredom that lay always just around the corner.
He looked at the little utility car that Jill had arrived in. Lettered across itssides was: READING RENTALS-Permapowered Ground Equipment of AllSorts-.Deal with the Dutchman!“.Larry, is the fence hot?“.Switch it on. Then before it gets dark I want you to polish every possiblefingerprint off that heap. As soon as it is dark, drive it over the other side ofReading-better go almost to Lancaster-and leave it in a ditch. Then go toPhiladelphia, catch the shuttle for Scranton, come home from Scranton.“.Sure thing, Jubal. Say-is he really the Man from Mars?“.You had better hope that he isn’t, because if he is and they catch you beforeyou dump that wagon and they associate you with him, they’ll probablyinterrogate you with a blow torch. But I think he is.“.I scan it. Should I rob a few banks on the way back?“.Probably the safest thing you can do.“.Okay, Boss.“ Larry hesitated. .Do you mind if I stay over night in Philly?“.What in God’s name can a man find to do at night in Philadelphia?“.Plenty, if you know where to look.“.Suit yourself.“ Harshaw turned away. .Front!“Jill slept until shortly before dinner, which in that household was acomfortable eight o’clock. She awoke refreshed and feeling alert, so much sothat she sniffed the air incoming from the grille over her head and surmisedcorrectly that the doctor had offset the hypnotic she had been given with astimulant. While she was asleep someone had removed the dirty and tornstreet clothes she had been wearing and had left a simple, off-white dinnerdress and sandals. The clothes fit her fairly well; Jill concluded that they mustbelong to the one the doctor had called Miriam. She bathed and painted herface and combed her hair and went down to the big living room feeling like anew woman.
Dorcas was curled in a big chair, doing needle point; she looked up, noddedin a friendly manner as if Jill were always part of the household, turned herattention back to her fancy work. Harshaw was standing and stirring gently amixture in a tall and frosty pitcher. .Drink?“ he said.
.Uh, yes, thank you.“He poured two large cocktail glasses to their brims, handed her one. .Whatis it?“ she asked.
.My own recipe, a comet cocktail. One third vodka, one third muriatic acid,one third battery water-two pinches of salt and add a pickled beetle.“.Better have a highball,“ Dorcas advised. Jill noticed that the other girl had atall glass at her elbow.
.Mind your own business,“ Harshaw advised without rancor. .Thehydrochloric acid is good for the digestion; the beetle adds vitamins andprotein.“ He raised his glass to Jill and said solemnly, .Here’s to our nobleselves! There are damned few of us left.“ He almost emptied his glass,replenished it before he set it down.
Jill took a cautious sip, then a much bigger one. Whatever the trueingredients, the drink seemed to be exactly what she needed; a warm feelingof well-being spread gently from her center of gravity toward her extremities.
She drank about half of it, let Harshaw add a dividend. .Look in on ourpatient?“ he asked.
.No, sir. I didn’t know where he was.“.I checked him a few minutes ago. Sleeping like a baby-I think I’ll rename himLazarus. Do you think he would like to come down to dinner?“Jill looked thoughtful. .Doctor, I really don’t know.“.Well, if he wakes I’ll know it. Then he can join us, or have a tray, as hewishes. This is Freedom Hall, my dear. Everyone does absolutely as hepleases . . . then if he does something I don’t like, I just kick him the hell out.
Which reminds me: I don’t like to be called .Doctor.’“.Sir?“.Oh, I’m not offended. But when they began handing out doctorates forcomparative folk dancing and advanced fly-fishing, I became too stink in’
proud to use the title. I won’t touch watered whiskey and I take no pride inwatered-down degrees. Call me Jubal.“.Oh. But the degree in medicine hasn’t been watered down, as you call it.“.No. But it is time they called it something else, so as not to have it mixed upwith playground supervisors. Never mind. Little girl, just what is your interestin this patient?“.Eh? I told you. Doct-Jubal.“.You told me what happened; you didn’t tell me why. Jill, I saw the way youlooked at him and spoke to him. Do you think you are in love with him?“Jill was startled. She glanced at Dorcas; the other girl appeared not to behearing the conversation. .Why, that’s preposterous!“.I don’t see anything preposterous about it. You’re a girl; he’s a boy- that’susually a nice setup.“.But- No, Jubal, it’s not that at all. I .. well, I thought he ............