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 was being held aprisoner and I thought-or Ben thought-that he might be in danger. I wanted tosee him get his rights.“.Mmmm ... my dear, I’m always suspicious of a disinterested interest. Youlook as if you had a normal glandular balance, so it is my guess that it iseither Ben, or this poor boy from Mars, or both. You had better take yourmotives out in private and have a look at them. Then you will be better ableto judge which way you are going. In the meantime, what do you want me todo?“The unqualified scope of the question made it difficult for Jill to answer. Whatdid she want? What did she expect? From the time she had crossed herRubicon she had thought of nothing but escape-and getting to Harshaw’shome. She had no plans. .I don’t know.“.I thought not. You had told me enough to let me know that you wereA.W.O.L. from your hospital, so, on the assumption that you might wish toprotect your license, I took the liberty, while you were asleep, of having amessage Sent from Montreal to your Chief of Nursing. You asked for twoweeks emergency leave because of sudden illness in your family. Okay? Youcan back it up with details later.“Jill felt sudden and shaking relief. By temperament she had buried all worryabout her own welfare once she had made her decision; nevertheless downinside her was a heavy lump caused by what she had done to an on thewhole excellent professional standing. .Oh, Jubal, thank you!“ She added,.I’m not really delinquent in watch standing yet; today was my day off.“.Good. Then you are covered like a tent. What do you want to do?“.I haven’t had time to think. Uh, I suppose I should get in touch with my bankand get some money-. She paused, trying to recall what her bank balancewas. It was never large and sometimes she forgot to- Jubal cut in on herthoughts. .If you get in touch with your bank, you will have cops pouring outof your ears. Hadn’t you better stay here until things level off?“.Uh, Jubal, I wouldn’t want to impose on you.“.You already have imposed on me. Don’t worry about it, child. There arealways free-loaders around here, coming and going . . . one family stayedseventeen months. But nobody imposes on me against my will, so relaxabout it. If you turn out to be useful as well as ornamental, you can stayforever. Now about our patient: you said you wanted him to get his .rights.’ Isuppose you expected my help in that?“.Well, I ... Ben said-Ben seemed to think that you would help.“.I like Ben but he does not speak for me. I am not in the slightest interested inwhether or not this lad gets his so-called rights. I don’t go for the .True Prince’
nonsense. His claim to Mars is lawyers’ hogwash; as a lawyer myself I neednot respect it. As for the wealth that is supposed to be coming to him, thesituation results from other people’s inflamed passions and our odd tribalcustoms; he has earned none of it. In my opinion he would be lucky if theybilked him out of it-but I would not bother to scan a newspaper to find outwhich outcome eventuated. If Ben expected me to fight for Smith’s .rights,’
you have come to the wrong house.“.Oh.“ Jill felt suddenly forlorn. .I guess I had better make arrangements tomove him.“.Oh, no! Not unless you wish, that is.“.But I thought you said-.
.I said I was not interested in a web of legal fictions. But a patient and guestunder my roof is another matter. He can stay, if he likes. I just wanted tomake it clear that I had no intention of meddling with politics to suit anyromantic notions you or Ben Caxton may have. My dear, I used to think I wasserving humanity . . . and I pleasured in the thought. Then I discovered thathumanity does not want to be served; on the contrary it resents any attemptto serve it. So now I do what pleases Jubal Harshaw.“ He turned to Dorcasas if the subject were closed. .Time for dinner, isn’t it, Dorcas? Is anyonedoing anything about it?“.Miriam.“ She put down her needlepoint and stood up.
.I’ve never been able to figure out just how these girls divide up the work.“.Boss, how would you know?-since you never do any.“ Dorcas patted him onthe stomach. .But you never miss any meals.“A gong sounded and they went in to eat. If the redheaded Miriam had cookeddinner, she had apparently done so with all modern shortcuts; she wasalready seated at the foot of the table and looked cool and beautiful. Inaddition to the three secretaries, there was a young man slightly older thanLarry who was addressed as .Duke“ and who included Jill in the conversationas if she had always lived there. There was also a middle-aged couple whowere not introduced at all, who ate as if they were in a restaurant and left thetable as soon as they were finished without ever having spoken to the others.
But the table talk among the others was lively and irreverent. Service was bynon~android serving machines, directed by controls at Miriam’s end of thetable. The food was excellent and, so far as Jill could tell, none of it wassyntho.
But it did not seem to suit Harshaw. He complained that his knife was dull, orthe meat was tough, or both; he accused Miriam of serving leftovers. No oneseemed to hear him but Jill was becoming embarrassed on Miriam’s accountwhen Anne put down her knife and fork. .He mentioned his mother’scooking,“ she stated bleakly.
.He is beginning to think he is boss again,“ agreed Dorcas.
.How long has it been?“.About ten days.“.Too long.“ Anne gathered up Dorcas and Miriam with her eyes; they allstood up. Duke went on eating.
Harshaw said hastily, .Now see here, girls, not at meals. Wait until-. Theypaid no attention to his protest but moved toward him; a serving machinescurried out of the way. Anne took his feet, each of the other two an arm;French doors slid out of the way and they carried him out, squawking.
A few seconds later the squawks were cut short by a splash.
The three women returned at once, not noticeably mussed. Miriam sat downand turned to Jill. .More salad, Jill?“Harshaw returned a few minutes later, dressed in pajamas and robe insteadof the evening jacket he had been wearing. One of the machines hadcovered his plate as soon as he was dragged away from the table; it nowuncovered it for him and he went on eating. .As I was saying,“ he remarked,.a woman who can’t cook is a waste of skin. If I don’t start having someservice around here I’m going to swap all of you for a dog and shoot the dog.
What’s the dessert, Miriam?“.Strawberry shortcake.“.That’s more like it. You are all reprieved till Wednesday.“Gillian found that it was not necessary to understand how Jubal Harshaw’shousehold worked; she could do as she pleased and nobody cared. Afterdinner she went into the living room with the intention of viewing a stereocastof the evening news, being anxious to find out if she herself played a part init. But she could find no stereo receiver, nor was there anything which couldhave concealed a tank. Thinking about it, she could not recall having seenone anywhere in the house. Nor were there any newspapers, although therewere plenty of books and magazines.
No one joined her. After a while she began to wonder what time it was. Shehad left her watch upstairs with her purse, so she looked around for a clock.
She failed to find one, then searched her excellent memory and could notremember having seen either clock or calendar in any of the rooms she hadbeen in.
But she decided that she might as well go to bed no matter what time it was.
One whole wall was filled with books, both shelves and spindle racks. Shefound a spool of Kipling’s Just So Stories and took it happily upstairs withher.
Here she found another small surprise. The bed in the room she had beengiven was as modern as next week, complete with automassage, coffeedispenser, weather control, reading machine, etc.-but the alarm circuit wasmissing, there being only a plain cover plate to show where it had been. Jillshrugged and decided that she would probably not oversleep anyway,crawled into bed, slid the spool into the reading machine, lay back andscanned the words streaming across the ceiling. Presently the speed controlslipped out of her relaxed fingers, the lights went out, and she slept.
Jubal Harshaw did not get to sleep as easily; he was vexed with himself. Hisinitial interest in the situation had cooled off and reaction had set in. Well overa half century earlier he had sworn a mighty oath, full of fireworks, neveragain to pick up a stray cat-and now, so help him, by the multiple paps ofVenus Genetrix, he had managed to pick up two at once no, three, if hecounted Ben Caxton.
The fact that he had broken his oath more times than there were yearsintervening did not trouble him; his was not a small mind bothered by logicand consistency. Nor did the mere presence of two more pensioners sleepingunder his roof and eating at his table bother him. Pinching pennies was not inhim. In the course of nearly a century of gusty living he had been broke manytimes, had several times been wealthier than he now was; he regarded bothconditions as he did shifts in the weather, and never Counted his change.
But the silly foofooraw that he knew was bound to ensue when the busiescaught up with these children disgruntled him in prospect. He considered itcertain that catch up they would; a naive child like that Gillian infant wouldleave a trail behind her like a club-footed cow! Nothing else could beexpected.
Whereupon people would come barging into his sanctuary, asking stupidquestions and making stupid demands . . - and he, Jubal Harshaw, wouldhave to make decisions and take action. Since he was philosophicallyconvinced that all action was futile, the prospect irritated him.
He did not expect reasonable conduct from human beings; he consideredmost people fit candidates for protective restraint and wet packs. He simplywished heartily that they would leave him alone!-aU but the few he chose forplaymates. He was firmly convinced that, left to himself, he would have longsince achieved nirvana . . . dived into his own belly button and disappearedfrom view, like those Hindu jokers. Why couldn’t they leave a man alone?
Around midnight he wearily put out his twenty-seventh cigarette and sat up;the lights came on. .Front!“ he shouted at the microphone beside his bed.
Shortly Dorcas came in, dressed in robe and slippers. She yawned widelyand said, .Yes, Boss?“.Dorcas, for the last twenty or thirty years I’ve been a worthless, useless, nogoodparasite.“She nodded and yawned again. .Everybody knows that.“.Never mind the flattery. There comes a time in every man’s life when he hasto stop being sensible-a time to stand up and be counted- strike a blow forliberty-smite the wicked.“.Ummm...“.SO quit yawning, the time has come.“She glanced down at herself. .Maybe I had better get dressed.“.Yes. Get the other girls up, too; we’re going to be busy. Throw a bucket ofcold water over the Duke and tell him I said to dust off the babble machineand hook it up in my study. I want the news, all of it.“Dorcas looked startled and all over being sleepy. .You want Duke to hookup stereovision?“.You heard me. Tell him I said that if it’s out of order, he should pick adirection and start walking. Now get along with you; we’ve got a busy nightahead.“.All right,“ Dorcas agreed doubtfully, .but I think I ought to take yourtemperature first.“.Peace, woman!“Duke had Jubal Harshaw’s stereo receiver hooked up in time to let Jubal seea late rebroadcast of the second phony interview with the .Man from Mars.“The commentary included the rumor about moving Smith to the Andes. Jubalput two and two together and got twenty-two, after which he was busy callingpeople until morning. At dawn Dorcas brought him his breakfast, six raw eggsbeaten into brandy. He slurped them down while reflecting that one of theadvantages of a long and busy life was that eventually a man got to knowpretty near everybody of real importance- and could call on them in a pinch.
Harshaw had prepared a time bomb but did not propose to trigger it until thepowers-that-be forced him to do so. He had realized at once that thegovernment could haul Smith back into captivity on the grounds that he wasincompetent to look out for himself . . . an opinion with which Harshawagreed. His snap opinion was that Smith was both legally insane andmedically psychopathic by all normal standards, the victim of a doublebarreledsituational psychosis of unique and monumental extent, first frombeing raised by non-humans and second from having been translatedsuddenly into a society which was completely alien to him.
Nevertheless he regarded both the legal notion of sanity and the medicalnotion of psychosis as being irrelevant to this case. Here was a humananimal who had made a profound and apparently successful adjustment toan alien society . . . but as a malleable infant. Could the same subject, as anadult with formed habits and canalized thinking, make another adjustmentjust as radical, and much more difficult for an adult to make than for aninfant? Dr. Harshaw intended to find out; it was the first time in decades hehad taken real interest in the practice of medicine.
Besides that, he was tickled at the notion of balking the powers-that-be. Hehad more than his share of that streak of anarchy which was the politicalbirthright of every American; pitting himself against the planetary governmentfined him with sharper zest for living than he had felt in a generation.