FOSTER LOOKED UP from his current Work in Progress. .Junior!“.Sir?“.That youngster you wanted-he’s available now. The Martians havereleased him.“Digby looked puzzled. .I’m sorry. There was some young creaturetoward whom I have a Duty?“Foster smiled angelically. Miracles were never necessary-in Truth thepseudo-concept .miracle“ was self-contradicting. But these young fellowsalways had to learn it for themselves. .Never mind,“ he said gently. .It’s aminor job and I’ll handle it myself-and Junior?“.Sir?“.Call me .Fog,’ please-ceremony is all right in the field but we don’t need it inthe studio. And remind me not to call you .Junior’ after this- you made a verynice record on that temporary duty assignment. Which name do you like tobe called?“His assistant blinked. .I have another name?“.Thousands of them. Do you have a preference?“.Why, I really don’t recall at this eon.“.Well ... how would you like to be called .Digby’?“.Uh, yes. That’s a very nice name. Thanks.“.Don’t thank me. You earned it.“ Archangel Foster turned back to his work,not forgetting the minor item he had assumed. Briefly he considered how thiscup might be taken from little Patricia-then chided himself for suchunprofessional, almost human, thought. Mercy was not possible to an angel;angelic compassion left no room for it.
The Martian Old Ones had reached an elegant and awesome trial solution totheir major esthetic problem and put it aside for a few filledthrees to let itgenerate new problems. At which time, unhurriedly but at once and almostabsent-mindedly, the alien nestling which they had returned to his properworld was tapped of what he had learned of his people and dropped, aftercherishing, since he was of no further interest to their purposes.
They collectively took the data he had accumulated and, with a view totesting that trial solution, began to work toward considering an inquiry leadingto an investigation of esthetic parameters involved in the possibility of theartistic necessity of destroying Earth. But necessarily much waiting would be,before fullness would grok decision.
The Daibutsu at Kamakura was again washed by a giant wave secondary toa seismic disturbance some 280 kilometers off Honshu. The wave killed morethan 13,000 people and lodged a small male infant high up in the Buddhaimage’s interior, where it was eventually found and succored by survivingmonks. This infant lived ninety-seven Terran years after the disaster thatwiped out his family, and himself produced no progeny nor anything of anynote aside from a reputation reaching to Yokohama for loud and sustainedbelching. Cynthia Duchess entered a nunnery with all benefits of modernpublicity and left same without fanfare three days later. Ex-Secretary GeneralDouglas suffered a slight stroke which impaired the use of his left hand butdid not reduce his ability to conserve assets entrusted to his stewardship.
Lunar Enterprises, Ltd., published a prospectus on a bond issue for thewholly owned subsidiary Ares Chandler Corporation. The Lyle-DriveExploratory Vessel Mary Jane Smith landed on Pluto. Fraser, Colorado,reported the coldest average February of its recorded history.
Bishop Oxtongue, speaking at the New Grand Avenue Temple in KansasCity, preached on the text (Matt. XXIV:24): .Por there shall arise false Christsand false prophets, and shall shew great signs and wonders; insomuch that,if it were possible, they shall deceive the very elect.“ He was careful to makeclear that his diatribe did not refer to Mormons, Christian Scientists, RomanCatholics, nor Fosterites-most especially not to the last-nor to any otherfellow travelers whose good works counted for more than minute and, in thefinal analysis, inconsequential differences in creed or ritual . - . but solely torecent upstart heretics who were seducing faithful contributors away from thefaiths of their fathers. In a lush subtropical resort city in the southern part ofthe same nation three complainants swore an information charging publiclewdness on the part of a pastor, three of his assistants, and Joe Doe, MaryRoe, et al., plus further charges of running a disorderly house andcontributing to the delinquency of minors. The county attorney had at firstonly the mildest interest in prosecuting under the information as he had onfile a dozen much like it- the complaining witnesses had always failed toappear at arraignment.
He pointed this out. Their spokesman said, .We know. But you’ll have plentyof backing this time. Supreme Bishop Short is determined that this Antichristshall flourish no longer.“The prosecutor was not interested in antichrists-but there was a primarycoming up. .Well, just remember I can’t do much without backing.“.You’ll have it.“Farther north, Dr. Jubal Harshaw was not immediately aware of this incidentand its consequences, but he did know of too many others for peace of mind.
Against his own rules he had succumbed to that most insidious drug, thenews. Thus far, he had contained his vice; he merely subscribed to a clippingservice instructed for .Man from Mars,“ .V. M. Smith,“ .Church of All Worlds,“and .Ben Caxton.“ But the monkey was crawling up his back-twice lately hehad had to fight off an impulse to order Larry to set up the babble box in hisstudy- Damn it, why couldn’t those kids tape him an occasional letter?-instead of letting him wonder and worry. .Front!“He heard Anne come in but he still continued to stare Out a window at snowand an empty swimming pool. .Anne,“ he said without turning around, .rentus a small tropical atoll and put this mausoleum up for sale.“.Yes, Boss. Anything else?“.But get that atoll tied down on a long-term lease before you hand thiswilderness back to the Indians; I will not put up with hotels. How long has itbeen since I wrote any pay copy?“.Forty-three days.“.You see? Let that be a lesson to you. Begin. .Death Song of a Wood’sColt’:
.The depths of winter longing are ice within my heartThe shards of broken covenants lie sharp against my soulThe wraiths of long-lost ecstasy still keep us two apartThe sullen winds of bitterness still keen from turn to pole.
.The scars and twisted tendons, the stumps of struck-off limbs,The aching pit of hunger and the throb of unset bone,My sanded burning eyeballs, as light within them dims,Add nothing to the torment of lying here alone.The shimmering flames of fever trace out your blessed faceMy broken eardrums echo yet your voice inside my headI do not fear the darkness that comes to me apaceI only dread the loss of you that comes when I am dead.
.There,“ he added briskly, .sign it .Louisa M. Alcott’ and have the agencysend it to Togetherness magazine.“.Boss, is that your idea of .pay copy’?“.Huh? Of course it isn’t. Not now. But it will be worth something later, so put itin file and my literary executor can use it to help settle the death duties.
That’s the catch in all artistic pursuits; the best work is always worth mostafter the workman can’t be paid. The literary life.- dreck! It consists inscratching the cat till it purrs.“.Poor Jubali Nobody ever feels sorry for him, so he has to feel sorry forhimself.“.Sarcasm yet. No wonder I don’t get any work done.“.Not sarcasm, Boss. Only the wearer knows where the shoe pinches.“.My apologies. All right, here’s pay copy. Begin. Title: .One for the Road,’
.There’s amnesia in a hang knot,And comfort in the ax,But the simple way of poison will make your nerves relax.
.There’s surcease in a gunshot,And sleep that comes from racks,But a handy draft of poison avoids the harshest tax.
.You find rest upon the hot squat,Or gas can give you pax,But the closest corner chemist has peace in packaged stacks.
.There’s refuge in the church lotWhen you tire of facing facts,And the smoothest route is poison prescribed by kindly quacks.
.Chorus-With an ugh! and a groan, and a kick of the heels,Death comes quiet, or it comes with squeals-But the pleasantest place to find your endIs a cup of cheer from the hand of a friend.“.Jubal,“ Anne said worriedly, .is your stomach upset?“.Always.“.That one’s for file, too?“.Huh? That’s for the New Yorker. Their usual pen name.“.They’ll bounce it.“.They’ll buy it. It’s morbid, they’ll buy it.“And besides, there’s something wrong with the scansion.“.Of course there is! You have to give an editor something to change, or hegets frustrated. After he pees in it himself, he likes the flavor much better, sohe buys it. Look, my dear, I was successfully avoiding honest work longbefore you were born-so don’t try to teach Granpaw how to suck eggs. Orwould you rather I nursed Abby while you turn Out copy? Hey! It’s Abigail’sfeeding time, isn’t it? And you weren’t .Front,’ Dorcas is .Front.’ I remember.“.It won’t hurt Abby to wait a few minutes. Dorcas is lying down. Morningsickness.“.Nonsense. If she’s pregnant, why won’t she let me run a test? Anne, I canspot pregnancy two weeks before a rabbit can-and you know it. I’m going tohave to be firm with that girl.“.Jubal, you let her be! She’s scared she didn’t catch ... and she wants to thinkshe did, as long as possible. Don’t you know anything about women?“.Mmm ... come to think about it-no. Not anything. All right, I won’t heckle her.
But why didn’t you bring our baby angel in and nurse her here? You haveboth hands free when you take dictation.“.In the first place, I’m glad I didn’t-she might have understood what youwere saying-.
.So I’m a bad influence, am I?“.She’s too young to see the marshmallow syrup underneath, Boss. But thereal reason is that you don’t do any work at all if I bring her in with me; youjust play with her.“.Can you think of any better way of enriching the empty hours?“.Jubal, I appreciate the fact that you are dotty over my daughter; I think she’spretty nice myself. But you’ve been spending all your time either playing withAbby . . . or moping. That’s not good.“.How soon do we go on relief?“.That’s beside the point. If you don’t crank out stories, you get spirituallyconstipated. It’s reached the point where Dorcas and Larry and I are bitingour nails-and when you do yell .Front!’ we jitter with relief. Only it’s always afalse alarm.“.If there’s money in the bank to meet the bills, what are you worriedabout?“.What are you worried about, Boss?“Jubal considered it. Should he tell her? Any possible doubt as to the paternityof Abigail had been settled, in his mind, in her naming; Anne had waveredbetween .Abigail“ and .Zenobia“-and had settled it by loading the infant withboth names. Anne had never mentioned the meanings of those names;presumably she did not know that he knew them.
Anne went on firmly, .You’re not fooling anyone but yourself; Jubal. Dorcasand Larry and I all know that Mike can take care of himself . and you ought toknow it. But because you’ve been so frenetic about it-.
.’Frenetic!’ Me?“.-Larry very quietly set up the stereo tank in his room and some one of usthree had been catching the news, every broadcast. Not because we areworried, for we aren’t-except about you. But when Mike gets into the newsandof course he does get into the news; he’s still the Man from Mars-weknow about it before those silly clippings ever reach you. I wish you wouldquit reading them.“.How do you know anything about any clippings? I went to a lot of trouble tosee that you didn’t. I thought.“.Boss,“ she said in a tired voice, .somebody has to dispose of the trash. Doyou think Larry can’t read?“.So. That confounded oubliette hasn’t worked right since Duke left. Damnit, nothing has!“.All you have to do is to send word to Mike that you want Duke to come back-Duke will show up at once.“.You know I can’t do that.“ It graveled him that what she said was almostcertainly true - . - and the thought was followed by a sudden and bittersuspicion. .Anne! Are you still here because Mike told you to stay?“She answered promptly, .I am............