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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's The Man the Martians Made, by Frank Belknap Long
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Man the Martians Made
+
+Author: Frank Belknap Long
+
+Release Date: July 17, 2009 [EBook #29432]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN THE MARTIANS MADE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="bk1"><p><i><small>If Frank Belknap Long is not one of the deans of science fiction writers,
+there can certainly be no dispute that he is high on the faculty board.
+His pen is indefatigable, it seems, and his characters come alive as with
+few other writers. We're sure you'll like this new suspenseful tale of his.</small></i></p></div>
+
+<div class="bk2"><h1><b>the<br />
+man<br />
+the<br />
+martians<br />
+made</b></h1>
+
+<h2><small><i>by ... Frank Belknap Long</i></small></h2>
+
+<p class="pr1"><big><b>No mortal had ever seen the Martians, but they had heard their
+whisperings&mdash;without knowing the terrible secret they kept hidden.</b></big></p></div>
+
+<p class="cap"><span class="smcap">There was death</span> in the camp.</p>
+
+<p>I knew when I awoke that it
+had come to stand with us in the
+night and was waiting now for
+the day to break and flood the
+desert with light. There was a
+prickling at the base of my scalp
+and I was drenched with cold
+sweat.</p>
+
+<p>I had an impulse to leap up and
+go stumbling about in the darkness.
+But I disciplined myself.
+I crossed my arms and waited for
+the sky to grow bright.</p>
+
+<p>Daybreak on Mars is like nothing
+you've ever dreamed about.
+You wake up in the morning, and
+there it is&mdash;bright and clear and
+shining. You pinch yourself, you
+sit up straight, but it doesn't
+vanish.</p>
+
+<p>Then you stare at your hands
+with the big callouses. You reach
+for a mirror to take a look at your
+face. That's not so good. That's
+where ugliness enters the picture.
+You look around and you see
+Ralph. You see Harry. You see
+the women.</p>
+
+<p>On Earth a woman may not
+look her glamorous best in the
+harsh light of early dawn, but if
+she's really beautiful she doesn't
+look too bad. On Mars even the
+most beautiful woman looks angry
+on arising, too weary and tormented
+by human shortcomings to
+take a prefabricated metal shack
+and turn it into a real home for a
+man.</p>
+
+<p>You have to make allowances
+for a lot of things on Mars. You
+have to start right off by accepting
+hardship and privation as your
+daily lot. You have to get accustomed
+to living in construction
+camps in the desert, with the red
+dust making you feel all hollow
+and dried up inside. Making you
+feel like a drum, a shriveled pea
+pod, a salted fish hung up to dry.
+Dust inside of you, rattling
+around, canal water seepage rotting
+the soles of your boots.</p>
+
+<p>So you wake up and you stare.
+The night before you'd collected
+driftwood and stacked it by the
+fire. The driftwood has disappeared.
+Someone has stolen your
+very precious driftwood. The
+Martians? Guess again.</p>
+
+<p>You get up and you walk
+straight up to Ralph with your
+shoulders squared. You say,
+"Ralph, why in hell did you have
+to steal my driftwood?"</p>
+
+<p>In your mind you say that.
+You say it to Dick, you say it to
+Harry. But what you really say is,
+"Larsen was here again last
+night!"</p>
+
+<p>You say, I put a fish on to boil
+and Larsen ate it. I had a nice
+deck of cards, all shiny and new,
+and Larsen marked them up. It
+wasn't me cheating. It was Larsen
+hoping I'd win so that he could
+waylay me in the desert and get
+all of the money away from me.</p>
+
+<p>You have a girl. There aren't
+too many girls in the camps with
+laughter and light and fire in
+them. But there are a few, and
+if you're lucky you take a fancy
+to one particular girl&mdash;her full
+red lips and her spun gold hair.
+All of a sudden she disappears.
+Somebody runs off with her. It's
+Larsen.</p>
+
+<p>In every man there is a
+slumbering giant. When life roars
+about you on a world that's
+rugged and new you've got to go
+on respecting the lads who have
+thrown in their lot with you, even
+when their impulses are as harsh
+as the glint of sunlight on a desert-polished
+tombstone.</p>
+
+<p>You think of a name&mdash;Larsen.
+You start from scratch and you
+build Larsen up until you have a
+clear picture of him in your mind.
+You build him up until he's a
+great shouting, brawling, golden
+man like Paul Bunyon.</p>
+
+<p>Even a wicked legend can seem
+golden on Mars. Larsen wasn't
+just my slumbering giant&mdash;or
+Dick's, or Harry's. He was the
+slumbering giant in all of us, and
+that's what made him so tremendous.
+Anything gigantic has
+beauty and power and drive to it.</p>
+
+<p>Alone we couldn't do anything
+with Larsen's gusto, so when some
+great act of wickedness was done
+with gusto how could it be us?
+Here comes Larsen! He'll shoulder
+all the guilt, but he won't feel
+guilty because he's the first man
+in Eden, the child who never
+grew up, the laughing boy, Hercules
+balancing the world on his
+shoulders and looking for a
+woman with long shining tresses
+and eyes like the stars of heaven
+to bend to his will.</p>
+
+<p>If such a woman came to life in
+Hercules' arms would you like the
+job of stopping him from sending
+the world crashing? Would you
+care to try?</p>
+
+<p>Don't you see? Larsen was
+closer to us than breathing and
+as necessary as food and drink
+and our dreams of a brighter tomorrow.
+Don't think we didn't
+hate him at times. Don't think
+we didn't curse and revile him.
+You may glorify a legend from
+here to eternity, but the luster
+never remains completely untarnished.</p>
+
+<p>Larsen wouldn't have seemed
+completely real to us if we hadn't
+given him muscles that could tire
+and eyes that could blink shut in
+weariness. Larsen had to sleep,
+just as we did. He'd disappear for
+days.</p>
+
+<p>We'd wink and say, "Larsen's
+getting a good long rest this time.
+But he'll be back with something
+new up his sleeve, don't you
+worry!"</p>
+
+<p>We could joke about it, sure.
+When Larsen stole or cheated we
+could pretend we were playing a
+game with loaded dice&mdash;not really
+a deadly game, but a game full of
+sound and fury with a great rousing
+outburst of merriment at the
+end of it.</p>
+
+<p>But there are deadlier games by
+far. I lay motionless, my arms
+locked across my chest, sweating
+from every pore. I stared at
+Harry. We'd been working all
+night digging a well, and in a few
+days water would be bubbling up
+sweet and cool and we wouldn't
+have to go to the canal to fill
+our cooking utensils. Harry was
+blinking and stirring and I could
+tell just by looking at him that
+he was uneasy too. I looked beyond
+him at the circle of shacks.</p>
+
+<p>Most of us were sleeping in the
+open, but there were a few youngsters
+in the shacks and women too
+worn out with drudgery to care
+much whether they slept in
+smothering darkness or under the
+clear cold light of the stars.</p>
+
+<p>I got slowly to my knees,
+scooped up a handful of sand, and
+let it dribble slowly through my
+fingers. Harry looked straight at
+me and his eyes widened in alarm.
+It must have been the look on my
+face. He arose and crossed to
+where I was sitting, his mouth
+twitching slightly. There was
+nothing very reassuring about
+Harry. Life had not been kind to
+him and he had resigned himself
+to accepting the slings and arrows
+of outrageous fortune without protest.
+He had one of those
+emaciated, almost skull-like faces
+which terrify children, and make
+women want to cry.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't look well, Tom," he
+said. "You've been driving yourself
+too hard."</p>
+
+<p>I looked away quickly. I had
+to tell him, but anything terrifying
+could demoralize Harry and
+make him throw his arm before
+his face in blind panic. But I
+couldn't keep it locked up inside
+me an instant longer.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit down, Harry," I whispered.
+"I want to talk to you. No sense
+in waking the others."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," he said.</p>
+
+<p>He squatted beside me on the
+sand, his eyes searching my face.
+"What is it, Tom?"</p>
+
+<p>"I heard a scream," I said. "It
+was pretty awful. Somebody has
+been hurt&mdash;bad. It woke me up,
+and that takes some doing."</p>
+
+<p>Harry nodded. "You sleep like
+a log," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"I just lay still and listened," I
+said, "with my eyes wide open.
+Something moved out from the
+well&mdash;a two-legged something. It
+didn't make a sound. It was big,
+Harry, and it seemed to melt into
+the shadows. I don't know what
+kept me from leaping up and
+going after it. It had something
+to do with the way I felt. All
+frozen up inside."</p>
+
+<p>Harry appeared to understand.
+He nodded, his eyes darting
+toward the well. "How long ago
+was that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ten&mdash;fifteen minutes."</p>
+
+<p>"You just waited for me to
+wake up?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's right," I said. "There
+was something about the scream
+that made me want to put off finding
+out. Two's company&mdash;and
+when you're alone with something
+like that it's best to talk it over
+before you act."</p>
+
+<p>I could see that Harry was
+pleased. Unnerved too, and horribly
+shaken. But he was pleased
+that I had turned to him as a
+friend I could trust. When you
+can't depend on life for anything
+else it's good to know you have a
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>I brushed sand from my
+trousers and got up. "Come on,"
+I said. "We'll take a look."</p>
+
+<p>It was an ordeal for him. His
+face twitched and his eyes
+wavered. He knew I hadn't lied
+about the scream. If a single
+scream could unnerve me that
+much it had to be bad.</p>
+
+<p>We walked to the well in complete
+silence. There were shadows
+everywhere, chill and forbidding.
+Almost like people they seemed,
+whispering together, huddling
+close in ominous gossipy silence,
+aware of what we would find.</p>
+
+<p>It was a sixty-foot walk from
+the fire to the well. A walk in the
+sun&mdash;a walk in the bright hot sun
+of Mars, with utter horror perhaps
+at the end of it.</p>
+
+<p>The horror was there. Harry
+made a little choking noise deep
+in his throat, and my heart started
+pounding like a bass drum.</p>
+
+<h3>II</h3>
+
+<p>The man on the sand had no
+top to his head. His skull had been
+crushed and flattened so hideously
+that he seemed like a wooden
+figure resting there&mdash;an anatomical
+dummy with its skull-case
+lifted off.</p>
+
+<p>We looked around for the skull-case,
+hoping we'd find it, hoping
+we'd made a mistake and stumbled
+by accident into an open-air dissecting
+laboratory and were looking
+at ghastly props made of
+plastic and glittering metal instead
+of bone and muscle and flesh.</p>
+
+<p>But the man on the sand had a
+name. We'd known him for weeks
+and talked to him. He wasn't a
+medical dummy, but a corpse.
+His limbs were hideously convulsed,
+his eyes wide and staring.
+The sand beneath his head was
+clotted with dried blood. We
+looked for the weapon which had
+crushed his skull but couldn't find
+it.</p>
+
+<p>We looked for the weapon before
+we saw the footprints in the
+sand. Big they were&mdash;incredibly
+large and massive. A man with a
+size-twelve shoe might have left
+such prints if the leather had become
+a little soggy and spread out
+around the soles.</p>
+
+<p>"The poor guy," Harry whispered.</p>
+
+<p>I knew how he felt. We had all
+liked Ned. A harmless little guy
+with a great love of solitude, a
+guy who hadn't a malicious hair
+in his head. A happy little guy
+who liked to sing and dance in
+the light of a high-leaping fire. He
+had a banjo and was good at
+music making. Who could have
+hated Ned with a rage so primitive
+and savage? I looked at Harry
+and saw that he was wondering
+the same thing.</p>
+
+<p>Harry looked pretty bad, about
+ready to cave in. He was leaning
+against the well, a tormented fury
+in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"The murderous bastard," he
+muttered. "I'd like to get him by
+the throat and choke the breath
+out of him. Who'd want to do a
+thing like that to Ned."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't figure it either," I said.</p>
+
+<p>Then I remembered. I don't
+think Molly Egan really could
+have loved Ned. The curious thing
+about it was that Ned didn't even
+need the kind of love she could
+have given him. He was a self-sufficient
+little guy despite his
+frailness and didn't really need a
+woman to look after him. But
+Molly must have seen something
+pathetic in him.</p>
+
+<p>Molly was a beautiful woman
+in her own right, and there wasn't
+a man in the camp who hadn't
+envied Ned. It was puzzling, but
+it could have explained why Ned
+was lying slumped on the sand
+with a bashed-in skull. It could
+have explained why someone had
+hated him enough to kill him.</p>
+
+<p>Without lifting a finger Ned had
+won Molly's love. That could
+make some other guy as mad as
+a caged hyena&mdash;the wrong sort
+of other guy. Even a small man
+could have shattered Ned's skull,
+but the prints on the sand were
+big.</p>
+
+<p>How many men in the camp
+wore size-twelve shoes? That was
+the sixty-four dollar question, and
+it hung in the shimmering air between
+Harry and myself like an
+unspoken challenge. We could
+almost see the curve of the big
+question mark suspended in the
+dazzle.</p>
+
+<p>I thought awhile, looking at
+Harry. Then I took a long, deep
+breath and said, "We'd better talk
+it over with Bill Seaton first. If it
+gets around too fast those footprints
+will be trampled flat. And
+if tempers start rising anything
+could happen."</p>
+
+<p>Harry nodded. Bill was the
+kind of guy you could depend on
+in an emergency. Cool, poised,
+efficient, with an air of authority
+that commanded respect. He could
+be pigheaded at times, but his
+sense of justice was as keen as a
+whip.</p>
+
+<p>Harry and I walked very quietly
+across a stretch of tumbled sand
+and halted at the door to Bill's
+shack. Bill was a bachelor and
+we knew there'd be no woman
+inside to put her foot down and
+tell him he'd be a fool to act as a
+lawman. Or would there be? We
+had to chance it.</p>
+
+<p>Law-enforcement is a thankless
+job whether on Earth or on
+Mars. That's why it attracts the
+worst&mdash;and the best. If you're a
+power-drunk sadist you'll take the
+job just for the pleasure it gives
+you. But if you're really interested
+in keeping violence within
+bounds so that fairly decent
+lads get a fighting chance to build
+for the future, you'll take the job
+with no thought of reward beyond
+the simple satisfaction of lending
+a helping hand.</p>
+
+<p>Bill Seaton was such a man,
+even if he did enjoy the limelight
+and liked to be in a position of
+command.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on, Harry," I said. "We
+may as well wake him up and get
+it over with."</p>
+
+<p>We went into the shack. Bill
+was sleeping on the floor with his
+long legs drawn up. His mouth
+was open and he was snoring
+lustily. I couldn't help thinking
+how much he looked like an overgrown
+grasshopper. But that was
+just a first impression springing
+from overwrought nerves.</p>
+
+<p>I bent down and shook Bill
+awake. I grabbed his arm and
+shook him until his jaw snapped
+shut and he shot up straight, suddenly
+galvanized. Instantly the
+grotesque aspect fell from him.
+Dignity came upon him and enveloped
+him like a cloak.</p>
+
+<p>"Ned, you say? The poor little
+cuss! So help me&mdash;if I get my
+hands on the rat who did it I'll
+roast him over a slow fire!"</p>
+
+<p>He got up, staggered to an
+equipment locker, and took out a
+sun helmet and a pair of shorts.
+He dressed quickly, swearing constantly
+and staring out the door
+at the bright dawn glow as if he
+wanted to send both of his fists
+crashing into the first suspicious
+guy to cross his path.</p>
+
+<p>"We can't have those footprints
+trampled," he muttered.
+"There are a lot of dumb bastards
+here who don't know the first thing
+about keeping pointers intact.
+Those prints may be the only thing
+we'll have to go on."</p>
+
+<p>"Just the three of us can handle
+it, Bill," I said. "When you decide
+what should be done we can wake
+the others."</p>
+
+<p>Bill nodded. "Keeping it quiet
+is the important thing. We'll carry
+him back here. When we break
+the news I want that body out of
+sight."</p>
+
+<p>Harry and Bill and I&mdash;we took
+another walk in the sun. I looked
+at Harry, and the greenish tinge
+which had crept into his face gave
+me a jolt. He's taking this pretty
+hard, I thought. If I hadn't known
+him so well I might have jumped
+to an ugly conclusion. But I just
+couldn't imagine Harry quarreling
+with Ned over Molly.</p>
+
+<p>How was I taking it myself? I
+raised my hand and looked at it.
+There was no tremor. Nerves
+steady, brain clear. No pleasure
+in enforcing the law&mdash;pass that
+buck to Bill. But there was a
+gruesome job ahead, and I was
+standing up to it as well as could
+be expected.</p>
+
+<p>Ever try lifting a corpse? The
+corpse of a stranger is easier to
+lift than the corpse of a man
+you've known and liked. Harry
+and I lifted him together. Between
+us the dead weight didn't seem too
+intolerable&mdash;not at first. But it
+quickly became a terrible, heavy
+limpness that dragged at our arms
+like some soggy log dredged up
+from the dark waters of the canal.</p>
+
+<p>We carried him into the shack
+and eased him down on the floor.
+His head fell back and his eyes
+lolled.</p>
+
+<p>Death is always shameful. It
+strips away all human reticences
+and makes a mockery of human
+dignity and man's rebellion against
+the cruelty of fate.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment we stood staring
+down at all that was left of Ned.
+I looked at Bill. "How many men
+in the camp wear number-twelve
+shoes?"</p>
+
+<p>"We'll find out soon enough."</p>
+
+<p>All this time we hadn't mentioned
+Larsen. Not one word
+about Larsen, not one spoken
+word. Cheating, yes. Lying,
+and treacherous disloyalty, and
+viciousness, and spite. Fights
+around the campfires at midnight,
+battered faces and broken wrists
+and a cursing that never ceased.
+All that we could blame on Larsen.
+But a harmless little guy
+lying dead by a well in a spreading
+pool of blood&mdash;that was an
+outrage that stopped us dead in
+our legend-making tracks.</p>
+
+<p>There is something in the
+human mind which recoils from
+too outrageous a deception. How
+wonderful it would have been to
+say, "Larsen was here again last
+night. He found a little guy who
+had never harmed anyone standing
+by a well in the moonlight.
+Just for sheer delight he decided
+to kill the little guy right then
+and there." Just to add luster to
+the legend, just to send a thrill of
+excitement about the camp.</p>
+
+<p>No, that would have been the
+lie colossal which no sane man
+could have quite believed.</p>
+
+<p>Something happened then to
+further unnerve us.</p>
+
+<p>The most disturbing sound you
+can hear on Mars is the whispering.
+Usually it begins as a barely
+audible murmur and swells in
+volume with every shift of the
+wind. But now it started off high
+pitched and insistent and did not
+stop.</p>
+
+<p>It was the whispering of a dying
+race. The Martians are as elusive
+as elves and all the pitiless logic
+of science had failed to draw
+them forth into the sunlight to
+stand before men in uncompromising
+arrogance as peers of
+the human race.</p>
+
+<p>That failure was a tragedy in
+itself. If man's supremacy is to
+be challenged at all let it be by a
+creature of flesh-and-blood, a big-brained
+biped who must kill to
+live. Better that by far than a
+ghostly flickering in the deepening
+dusk, a whispering and a flapping
+and a long-drawn sighing
+prophesying death.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, the Martians were real
+enough. A flitting vampire bat is
+real, or a stinging ray in the depths
+of a blue lagoon. But who could
+point to a Martian and say, "I
+have seen you plain, in broad daylight.
+I have looked into your
+owlish eyes and watched you go
+flitting over the sand on your thin,
+stalklike legs? I know there is
+nothing mysterious about you.
+You are like a water insect skimming
+the surface of a pond in a
+familiar meadow on Earth. You
+are quick and alert, but no match
+for a man. You are no more than
+an interesting insect."</p>
+
+<p>Who could say that, when there
+were ruins buried deep beneath
+the sand to give the lie to any such
+idea. First the ruins, and then
+the Martians themselves, always
+elusive, gnomelike, goblinlike,
+flitting away into the dissolving
+dusk.</p>
+
+<p>You're a comparative archaeologist
+and you're on Mars with
+the first batch of rugged youngsters
+to come tumbling out of a
+spaceship with stardust in their
+eyes. You see those youngsters
+digging wells and sweating in the
+desert. You see the prefabricated
+housing units go up, the tangle of
+machinery, the camp sites growing
+lusty with midnight brawls and
+skull-cracking escapades. You see
+the towns in the desert, the law-enforcement
+committees, the camp
+followers, the reform fanatics.</p>
+
+<p>You're a sober-minded scholar,
+so you start digging in the ruins.
+You bring up odd-looking cylinders,
+rolls of threaded film, instruments
+of science so complex they
+make you giddy.</p>
+
+<p>You wonder about the Martians&mdash;what
+they were like when they
+were a young and proud race. If
+you're an archaeologist you
+wonder. But Bill and I&mdash;we were
+youngsters still. Oh, sure, we were
+in our thirties, but who would
+have suspected that? Bill looked
+twenty-seven and I hadn't a gray
+hair in my head.</p>
+
+<h3>III</h3>
+
+<p>Bill nodded at Harry. "You'd
+better stay here. Tom and I will
+be asking some pointed questions,
+and our first move will depend on
+the answers we get. Don't let
+anyone come snooping around
+this shack. If anyone sticks his
+head in and starts to turn ugly,
+warn him just once&mdash;then shoot
+to kill." He handed Harry a gun.</p>
+
+<p>Harry nodded grimly and
+settled himself on the floor close
+to Ned. For the first time since
+I'd known him, Harry looked
+completely sure of himself.</p>
+
+<p>As we emerged from the shack
+the whispering was so loud the
+entire camp had been placed on
+the alert. There would be no need
+for us to go into shack after shack,
+watching surprise and shock come
+into their eyes.</p>
+
+<p>A dozen or more men were
+between Bill's shack and the well.
+They were staring grimly at the
+dawn, as if they could already see
+blood on the sky, spilling over
+on the sand and spreading out in
+a sinister pool at their feet. A
+mirage-like pool mirroring their
+own hidden forebodings, mirroring
+a knotted rope and the straining
+shoulders of men too vengeful
+to know the meaning of restraint.</p>
+
+<p>Jim Kenny stood apart and
+alone, about forty feet from the
+well, staring straight at us. His
+shirt was open at the throat, exposing
+a patch of hairy chest, and
+his big hands were wedged deeply
+into his belt. He stood about six
+feet three, very powerful, and with
+large feet.</p>
+
+<p>I nudged Bill's arm. "What do
+you think?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>Kenny did seem a likely suspect.
+Molly had caught his eye
+right from the start, and he had
+lost no time in pursuing her. A
+guy like Kenny would have felt
+that losing out to a man of his
+own breed would have been a terrible
+blow to his pride. But just
+imagine Kenny losing out to a
+little guy like Ned. It would have
+infuriated him and glazed his eyes
+with a red film of hate.</p>
+
+<p>Bill answered my question
+slowly, his eyes on Kenny's
+cropped head. "I think we'd better
+take a look at his shoes," he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>We edged up slowly, taking
+care not to disturb the others,
+pretending we were sauntering toward
+the well on a before-breakfast
+stroll.</p>
+
+<p>It was then that Molly came
+out of her shack. She stood blinking
+for an instant in the dawn
+glare, her unbound hair falling
+in a tumbled dark mass to her
+shoulders, her eyes still drowsy
+with sleep. She wore rust-colored
+slippers and a form-fitted yellow
+robe, belted in at the waist.</p>
+
+<p>Molly wasn't beautiful exactly.
+But there was something pulse-stirring
+about her and it was easy
+to understand how a man like
+Kenny might find her difficult to
+resist.</p>
+
+<p>Bill slanted a glance at Kenny,
+then shrugged and looked straight
+at Molly. He turned to me, his
+voice almost a whisper, "She's got
+to be told, Tom. You do it. She
+likes you a lot."</p>
+
+<p>I'd been wondering about that
+myself&mdash;just how much she liked
+me. It was hard to be sure.</p>
+
+<p>Bill saw my hesitation, and
+frowned. "You can tell if she's
+covering up. Her reaction may
+give us a lead."</p>
+
+<p>Molly looked startled when she
+saw me approaching without the
+mask I usually wore when I
+waltzed her around and grinned
+and ruffled her hair and told her
+that she was the cutest kid imaginable
+and would make some man&mdash;not
+me&mdash;a fine wife.</p>
+
+<p>That made telling her all the
+harder. The hardest part was at
+the end&mdash;when she stared at me
+dry-eyed and threw her arms
+around me as if I was the last
+support left to her on Earth.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment I almost forgot
+we were not on Earth. On Earth
+I might have been able to comfort
+her in a completely sane way.
+But on Mars when a woman
+comes into your arms your emotions
+can turn molten in a matter
+of seconds.</p>
+
+<p>"Steady," I whispered. "We're
+just good friends, remember?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'd be willing to forget, Tom,"
+she said.</p>
+
+<p>"You've had a terrible shock,"
+I whispered. "You really loved
+that little guy&mdash;more than you
+know. It's natural enough that
+you should feel a certain warmth
+toward me. I just happened to be
+here&mdash;so you kissed me."</p>
+
+<p>"No, Tom. It isn't that way
+at all&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>I might have let myself go a
+little then if Kenny hadn't seen
+us. He stood very still for an
+instant, staring at Molly. Then
+his eyes narrowed and he walked
+slowly toward us, his hands still
+wedged in his belt.</p>
+
+<p>I looked quickly at Molly, and
+saw that her features had
+hardened. There was a look of
+dark suspicion in her eyes. Bill
+had been watching Kenny, too,
+waiting for him to move. He
+measured footsteps with Kenny,
+advancing in the same direction
+from a different angle at a pace so
+calculated that they seemed to
+meet by accident directly in front
+of us.</p>
+
+<p>Bill didn't draw but his hand
+never left his hip. His voice came
+clear and sharp and edged with
+cold insistence. "Know anything
+about it, Kenny?"</p>
+
+<p>Strain seemed to tighten Kenny's
+face, but there was no panic in his
+eyes, no actual glint of fear. "What
+made you think I'd know?" he
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>Bill didn't say a word. He just
+started staring at Kenny's shoes.
+He stood back a bit and continued
+to stare as if something vitally important
+had escaped him and
+taken refuge beneath the soggy
+leather around Kenny's feet.</p>
+
+<p>"What size shoes do you wear,
+Jim?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>Kenny must have suspected
+that the question was charged with
+as much explosive risk as a
+detonating wire set to go off at
+the faintest jar. His eyes grew
+shrewd and mocking.</p>
+
+<p>"So the guy who did it left
+prints in the sand?" he said.
+"Prints made by big shoes?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's right," Bill said. "You
+have a very active mind."</p>
+
+<p>Kenny laughed then, the
+mockery deepening in his stare.
+"Well," he said, "suppose we
+have a look at those prints, and if
+it will ease your mind I'll take
+off my shoes and you can try
+them out for size."</p>
+
+<p>Kenny and Bill and I walked
+slowly from Molly's shack to the
+well in the hot and blazing glare,
+and the whispering went right on,
+getting under our skin in a tormenting
+sort of way.</p>
+
+<p>Kenny still wore that disturbing
+grin. He looked at the prints
+and grunted. "Yeah," he said,
+"they sure are big. Biggest prints
+I've ever seen."</p>
+
+<p>He sat down and started unlacing
+his shoes. First the right
+shoe, then the left. He pulled off
+both shoes and handed them to
+Bill.</p>
+
+<p>"Fit them in," he said.
+"Measure them for size. Measure
+<i>me</i> for size, and to hell with you!"</p>
+
+<p>Bill made a careful check.
+There were eight prints, and he
+fitted the shoes painstakingly into
+each of them. There was space
+to spare at each try.</p>
+
+<p>It cleared Kenny completely.
+He wasn't a killer&mdash;this time. We
+might have roused the camp to a
+lynching fury and Kenny would
+have died for a crime another man
+had committed. I shut my eyes
+and saw Larsen swinging from a
+roof top, a black hood over his
+face. I saw Molly standing in the
+sunlight by my side, her face a
+stony mask.</p>
+
+<p>I opened my eyes and there
+was Kenny, grinning contemptuously
+at us. He'd called our bluff
+and won out. Now the shoe was
+on the other foot.</p>
+
+<p>A cold chill ran up my spine.
+It was Kenny who was doing the
+staring now, and he was looking
+directly at my shoes. He stood
+back a bit and continued to stare.
+He was dramatizing his sudden
+triumph in a way that turned my
+blood to ice.</p>
+
+<p>Then I saw that Bill was staring
+too&mdash;straight at the shoes of
+a man he had known for three
+years and grown to like and trust.
+But underlying the warmth and
+friendliness in Bill was a granite-like
+integrity which nothing could
+shake.</p>
+
+<p>It was Bill who spoke first. "I
+guess you'd better take them off,
+Tom," he said. "We may as well
+be thorough about this."</p>
+
+<p>Sure, I was big. I grew up fast
+as a kid and at eighteen I weighed
+two hundred and thirty pounds, all
+lean flesh. If shoes ran large I
+could sometimes cram my feet
+into size twelves, but I felt much
+more comfortable in a size or two
+larger than that.</p>
+
+<p>What made it worse, Molly
+liked me. I was involved with
+her, but no one knew how much.
+No one knew whether we'd quarreled
+or not, or how insanely
+jealous I could be. No one knew
+whether Molly had only pretended
+to like Ned while carrying
+a torch for me, and how dangerously
+complex the situation might
+have become all along the line.</p>
+
+<p>I stood very still, listening. The
+whispering was so loud now it
+drowned out the sighing of the
+wind. I looked down at my shoes.
+They were caked with mud and
+soggy and discolored. Day after
+day I'd trudge back and forth
+from the canal to the shacks in
+the blazing sunlight without giving
+my feet a thought until the ache
+in them had become intolerable,
+rest an absolute necessity.</p>
+
+<p>There was only one thing to do&mdash;call
+Kenny's bluff so fast he
+wouldn't have time to hurl another
+accusation at me.</p>
+
+<p>I handed Bill both of my shoes.
+He looked at me and nodded. I
+waited, listening to the whispering
+rise and fall, watching him
+stoop and fit the shoes into the
+prints on the sand.</p>
+
+<p>He straightened suddenly. His
+face was expressionless, but I
+could see that he was waging a
+terrible inward struggle with himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Your shoes come pretty close
+to filling out those prints, Tom,"
+he said. "I can't be sure&mdash;but a
+wax impression test should pretty
+well clear this up." He gripped my
+arm and nodded toward the
+shacks. "Better stick close to me."</p>
+
+<p>Kenny took a slow step backward,
+his jaw tightening, his eyes
+searching Bill's face. "Wax impression
+test, hell!" he said.
+"You've got your murderer. I'm
+going to see he gets what's coming
+to him&mdash;right now!"</p>
+
+<p>Bill shook his head. "I'll do
+this my way," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Kenny glared at him, then
+laughed harshly. "You won't have
+a chance," he said. "The boys
+won't stand for it. I'm going to
+spread the word around, and
+you'd better not try to stop me."</p>
+
+<p>That did it. I'd been holding
+myself in, but I had a sudden,
+overpowering urge to send my
+fist crashing into Kenny's face, to
+send him crashing to the sand. I
+started for him, but he jumped
+back and started shouting.</p>
+
+<p>I can't remember exactly what
+he shouted. But he said just
+enough to put a noose around my
+neck. Every man and woman between
+the shacks and the well
+swung about to stare at me. I saw
+shock and rage flare in the eyes of
+men who usually had steady
+nerves. They were not calm now&mdash;not
+one of them.</p>
+
+<h3>IV</h3>
+
+<p>It all happened so fast I was
+caught off balance. In the harsh
+Martian sunlight human emotions
+can be as unstable as a wind-lashed
+dune.</p>
+
+<p>A crazy thought flashed through
+my mind: Will Molly believe this
+too? Will she join these madmen
+in their wild thirst for vengeance?
+My need for her was suddenly
+overwhelming. Just seeing her
+face would have helped, but now
+more men had emerged from the
+shacks and I couldn't see beyond
+them. They were heading straight
+for me and I knew that even Bill
+would be powerless to stop them.</p>
+
+<p>You can't argue with an
+avalanche. It was rolling straight
+toward me, gathering momentum
+as it came&mdash;not one man or a
+dozen, but a solid wall of human
+hate and unreason.</p>
+
+<p>Bill stood his ground. He had
+drawn his gun, and he started
+shouting that the prints couldn't
+have been made by my shoes. I
+chalked that up to his credit and
+resolved never to forget it.</p>
+
+<p>I knew I'd have to make a dash
+for it. I ran as fast as I could,
+keeping my eyes on the glimmer
+of sunlight on rising dunes, and
+deep hollows which a carefully
+placed bullet could have quickly
+changed into a burial mound.</p>
+
+<p>A sudden crackling burst of
+gunfire ripped through the air.
+Directly in my path the sand geysered
+up as the bullets ripped and
+tore at it. Somebody wasn't a
+good marksman, or had let blind
+rage unnerve him and spoil his
+aim. A lot of somebodies&mdash;for
+the firing increased and became
+almost continuous for an instant,
+a dull crackling which drowned
+out the whispering and the sighing
+of the wind.</p>
+
+<p>Then abruptly all sound ceased.
+Utter stillness descended on the
+desert&mdash;an unnatural, terrifying
+stillness, as if nature herself had
+stopped breathing and was waiting
+for someone to scream.</p>
+
+<p>I must have been mad to turn.
+A weaving target has a chance,
+but a target standing motionless
+is a sitting duck and his life hangs
+by a hair. But still I turned.</p>
+
+<p>Something was happening between
+the well and the shacks
+which halted the pursuit dead in
+its tracks. One of the shacks was
+wrapped in darting tongues of
+flame, and a woman was screaming,
+and a man close to her was
+grappling with something huge
+and misshapen which loomed
+starkly against the dawn glow.</p>
+
+<p>A human shape? I could not
+be sure. It seemed monstrous,
+with a bulge between its shoulders
+which gave a grotesque and distorted
+aspect to the shadow which
+its weaving bulk cast upon the
+sand. I could see the shadow
+clearly across three hundred feet
+of sand. It lengthened and
+shortened, as if an octopus-like
+ferocity had given it the power
+to distort itself at will, lengthening
+its tentacles and then whipping
+them back again.</p>
+
+<p>But it was not an octopus. It
+had legs and arms, and it was
+crushing the man in a grip of
+steel. I could see that now. I
+stared as the others were staring,
+their backs turned to me, their
+blind hatred for me blotted out
+by that greater horror.</p>
+
+<p>I suddenly realized that the
+shape was human. It had the head
+and shoulders of a man, and a
+torso that could twist with
+muscular purpose, and massive
+hands that could maul and maim.
+It threw the hapless man from it
+with a sudden convulsive contraction
+of its entire bulk. I had
+never seen a human being move
+in quite that way, but even as its
+violence flared its manlike aspect
+became more pronounced.</p>
+
+<p>A frightful thing happened
+then. The woman screamed and
+rushed toward the brutish maniac
+with her fingers splayed. The
+swaying figure bent, grabbed her
+about the waist, and lifted her
+high into the air. I thought for a
+moment he was about to crush
+her as he had crushed the man.
+But I was wrong. She was hurled
+to the sand, but with a violence so
+brutal that she went instantly limp.</p>
+
+<p>Then the brutal madman
+turned, and I saw his face. If
+ever monstrous cruelty and malign
+cunning looked out of a human
+countenance it looked out of the
+eyes that stared in my direction,
+remorseless in their hate.</p>
+
+<p>I could not tear my gaze from
+his face. The hate in it could be
+sensed, even across a blinding
+haze of sunlight that blotted out
+the sharp contours of physical
+things. But more than hate could
+be sensed. There was something
+tremendous about that face, as if
+the evil which had ravaged it had
+left the searing brand of Lucifer
+himself!</p>
+
+<p>For an instant the madman
+stood motionless, his ghastly brutality
+unchallenged. Then Jeff
+Winters started for it. Jeff had
+come to Mars alone and grown
+more solitary with every passing
+day. He was a brooding, ingrown
+man, secretive and sullen, with a
+streak of wildness which he usually
+managed to control. He went
+for the madman like a gigantic
+terrier pup, shaggy and ferocious
+and contemptuous of death.</p>
+
+<p>The big figure turned quickly,
+raised his arm, and brought his
+closed fist down on Jeff's skull.
+Jeff collapsed like a shattered
+plaster cast. His body seemed to
+break and splinter, and he
+sprawled forward on the sand.</p>
+
+<p>He did not get up.</p>
+
+<p>Frank Anders had guns on
+both hips, and he drew them fast.
+No one knew what kind of man
+Anders was. He hardly ever complained
+or made a spectacle of
+himself. A little guy with sandy
+hair and cold blue eyes, he had
+an accuracy of aim that did his
+talking for him.</p>
+
+<p>His guns suddenly roared. For
+an instant the air between his
+hands and the maniac was a
+crackling wall of flame. The brute
+swayed a little but did not turn
+aside. He went straight for Anders
+with both arms spread wide.</p>
+
+<p>He caught Anders about the
+waist, lifted him up, and slammed
+his body down against the sand.
+A sickness came over me as I
+stared. The madman bashed
+Anders' head against the ground
+again and again. Then suddenly
+the big arms relaxed and Anders
+sagged limply to the ground.</p>
+
+<p>For an instant the madman
+swayed slowly back and forth, like
+a blood-stained marionette on a
+wire. Then he moved forward
+with a terrible, shambling gait, his
+head lowered, a dark, misshapen
+shadow seeming to lengthen before
+him on the sand like a spindle
+of flame.</p>
+
+<p>The clearing was abruptly
+tumultuous with sound. The fury
+which had been unleashed against
+me turned upon the monster and
+became a closed circle of deadly,
+intent purpose hemming him in&mdash;and
+he was caught in a crossfire
+that hurled him backwards to the
+sand.</p>
+
+<p>He jumped up and lunged
+straight for the well. What
+happened then was like the
+awakening stages of some horrible
+dream. The madman shambled
+past the well, the air at his back a
+crackling sheet of flame. The
+barrage behind him was continuous
+and merciless. The men
+were organized now, standing together
+in a solid wall, firing with
+deadly accuracy and a grim purpose
+which transcended fear.</p>
+
+<p>The madman went clumping on
+past me and climbed a dune with
+his shoulders held straight. With a
+sunset glare deepening about him,
+he went striding over the dune
+and out of sight.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>I turned and stared back at
+the camp. The pursuit had passed
+the well and was headed for me.
+But no one paid the slightest attention
+to me. Twelve men passed
+me, walking three abreast. Bill
+came along in their wake, his eyes
+stony hard. He reached out as he
+passed me, gripping my shoulder,
+giving me a foot-of-the-gallows
+kind of smile.</p>
+
+<p>"We know now who killed
+Ned," he whispered. "We know,
+fella. Take it easy, relax."</p>
+
+<p>My head was throbbing, but I
+could see the big prints from
+where I stood&mdash;the prints of a
+murderer betrayed by his insatiable
+urge to slay.</p>
+
+<p>I saw Kenny pass, and he gave
+me a contemptuous grin. He had
+done his best to destroy me, but
+there was no longer any hate left
+in me.</p>
+
+<p>I took a slow step forward&mdash;and
+fell flat on my face....</p>
+
+<p>I woke up with my head in
+Molly's lap. She was looking
+down into my face, sobbing in a
+funny sort of way and running
+her fingers through my hair.</p>
+
+<p>She looked startled when she
+saw that I was wide awake. She
+blinked furiously and started
+fumbling at her waist for a handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>"I must have passed out cold,"
+I said. "It's quite a strain to be
+at the receiving end of a lynching
+bee. And what I saw afterwards
+wasn't exactly pleasant."</p>
+
+<p>"Darling," she whispered,
+"don't move, don't say a word.
+You're going to be all right."</p>
+
+<p>"You bet I am!" I said. "Right
+now I feel great."</p>
+
+<p>My arm went around her
+shoulder, and I drew her head
+down until her breath was warm
+on my face. I kissed her hair and
+lips and eyes for a full minute in
+utter recklessness.</p>
+
+<p>When I released her her eyes
+were shining, and she was laughing
+a little and crying too. "You've
+changed your mind," she said.
+"You believe me now, don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't talk," I said. "Don't
+say another word. I just want to
+look at you."</p>
+
+<p>"It was you right from the
+start," she said. "Not Ned&mdash;or
+anyone else."</p>
+
+<p>"I was a blind fool," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"You never gave me a second
+glance."</p>
+
+<p>"One glance was enough," I
+whispered. "But when I saw how
+it seemed to be between you and
+Ned&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I was never in love with him.
+It was just&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind, don't say it," I
+said. "It's over and done with."</p>
+
+<p>I stopped, remembering. Her
+eyes grew wide and startled, and
+I could see that she was remembering
+too.</p>
+
+<p>"What happened?" I asked.
+"Did they catch that vicious rat?"</p>
+
+<p>She brushed back her hair, the
+sunlight suddenly harsh on her
+face. "He fell into the canal.
+The bullets brought him down,
+and he collapsed on the bank."</p>
+
+<p>Her hand tightened on my
+wrist. "Bill told me. He tried to
+swim, but the current carried him
+under. He went down and never
+came up."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad," I said. "Did anyone
+in the camp ever see him before?"</p>
+
+<p>Molly shook her head. "Bill
+said he was a drifter&mdash;a dangerous
+maniac who must have been
+crazed by the sun."</p>
+
+<p>"I see," I said.</p>
+
+<p>I reached out and drew her into
+my arms again, and we rested for
+a moment stretched out side by
+side on the sand.</p>
+
+<p>"It's funny," I said after a
+while.</p>
+
+<p>"What is?"</p>
+
+<p>"You know what they say about
+the whispering. Sometimes when
+you listen intently you seem to
+hear words deep in your mind.
+As if the Martians had telepathic
+powers."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps they have," she
+said.</p>
+
+<p>I glanced sideways at her. "Remember,"
+I said. "There were
+cities on Mars when our ancestors
+were hairy apes. The Martian
+civilization was flourishing and
+great fifty million years before the
+pyramids arose as a monument to
+human solidarity and worth. A
+bad monument, built by slave
+labor. But at least it was a start."</p>
+
+<p>"Now you're being poetic,
+Tom," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps I am. The Martians
+must have had their pyramids
+too. And at the pyramid stage
+they must have had their Larsens,
+to shoulder all the guilt. To them
+we may still be in the pyramid
+stage. Suppose&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose what?"</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose they wanted to warn
+us, to give us a lesson we couldn't
+forget. How can we say with
+certainty that a dying race couldn't
+still make use of certain techniques
+that are far beyond us."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid I don't understand,"
+she said, puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>"Someday," I said, "our own
+science will take a tiny fragment
+of human tissue from the body of
+a dead man, put it into an incubating
+machine, and a new man
+will arise again from that tiny
+shred of flesh. A man who can
+walk and live and breathe again,
+and love again, and die again after
+another full lifetime.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps the Martian science
+was once as great as that. And
+the Martians might still remember
+a few of the techniques. Perhaps
+from our human brains, from our
+buried memories and desires, they
+could filch the key and bring to
+horrible life a thing so monstrous
+and so terrible&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Her hand went suddenly cold
+in mine. "Tom, you can't honestly
+think&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No," I said. "It's nonsense, of
+course. Forget it."</p>
+
+<p>I didn't tell her what the whispering
+had seemed to say, deep
+in my mind.</p>
+
+<p><i>We've brought you Larsen!
+You wanted Larsen, and we've
+made him for you! His flesh and
+his mind&mdash;his cruel strength and
+his wicked heart! Here he comes,
+here he is! Larsen, Larsen, Larsen!</i></p>
+
+<div class="trn"><div class="figt"><a href="images/001-2.jpg"><img src="images/001-1.jpg" width="141" height="200" alt="" title="" /></a></div>
+
+<p><big><b>Transcriber's Note:</b></big></p>
+
+<p>This etext was produced from <i>Fantastic Universe</i> January 1954.
+Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
+copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and
+typographical errors have been corrected without note.</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
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+Project Gutenberg's The Man the Martians Made, by Frank Belknap Long
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Man the Martians Made
+
+Author: Frank Belknap Long
+
+Release Date: July 17, 2009 [EBook #29432]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN THE MARTIANS MADE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ _If Frank Belknap Long is not one of the deans of science fiction
+ writers, there can certainly be no dispute that he is high on the
+ faculty board. His pen is indefatigable, it seems, and his
+ characters come alive as with few other writers. We're sure you'll
+ like this new suspenseful tale of his._
+
+
+ the
+ man
+ the
+ martians
+ made
+
+ _by ... Frank Belknap Long_
+
+
+ No mortal had ever seen the Martians, but they had heard their
+ whisperings--without knowing the terrible secret they kept hidden.
+
+
+There was death in the camp.
+
+I knew when I awoke that it had come to stand with us in the night and
+was waiting now for the day to break and flood the desert with light.
+There was a prickling at the base of my scalp and I was drenched with
+cold sweat.
+
+I had an impulse to leap up and go stumbling about in the darkness. But
+I disciplined myself. I crossed my arms and waited for the sky to grow
+bright.
+
+Daybreak on Mars is like nothing you've ever dreamed about. You wake up
+in the morning, and there it is--bright and clear and shining. You pinch
+yourself, you sit up straight, but it doesn't vanish.
+
+Then you stare at your hands with the big callouses. You reach for a
+mirror to take a look at your face. That's not so good. That's where
+ugliness enters the picture. You look around and you see Ralph. You see
+Harry. You see the women.
+
+On Earth a woman may not look her glamorous best in the harsh light of
+early dawn, but if she's really beautiful she doesn't look too bad. On
+Mars even the most beautiful woman looks angry on arising, too weary
+and tormented by human shortcomings to take a prefabricated metal shack
+and turn it into a real home for a man.
+
+You have to make allowances for a lot of things on Mars. You have to
+start right off by accepting hardship and privation as your daily lot.
+You have to get accustomed to living in construction camps in the
+desert, with the red dust making you feel all hollow and dried up
+inside. Making you feel like a drum, a shriveled pea pod, a salted fish
+hung up to dry. Dust inside of you, rattling around, canal water seepage
+rotting the soles of your boots.
+
+So you wake up and you stare. The night before you'd collected driftwood
+and stacked it by the fire. The driftwood has disappeared. Someone has
+stolen your very precious driftwood. The Martians? Guess again.
+
+You get up and you walk straight up to Ralph with your shoulders
+squared. You say, "Ralph, why in hell did you have to steal my
+driftwood?"
+
+In your mind you say that. You say it to Dick, you say it to Harry. But
+what you really say is, "Larsen was here again last night!"
+
+You say, I put a fish on to boil and Larsen ate it. I had a nice deck of
+cards, all shiny and new, and Larsen marked them up. It wasn't me
+cheating. It was Larsen hoping I'd win so that he could waylay me in the
+desert and get all of the money away from me.
+
+You have a girl. There aren't too many girls in the camps with laughter
+and light and fire in them. But there are a few, and if you're lucky you
+take a fancy to one particular girl--her full red lips and her spun gold
+hair. All of a sudden she disappears. Somebody runs off with her. It's
+Larsen.
+
+In every man there is a slumbering giant. When life roars about you on a
+world that's rugged and new you've got to go on respecting the lads who
+have thrown in their lot with you, even when their impulses are as harsh
+as the glint of sunlight on a desert-polished tombstone.
+
+You think of a name--Larsen. You start from scratch and you build Larsen
+up until you have a clear picture of him in your mind. You build him up
+until he's a great shouting, brawling, golden man like Paul Bunyon.
+
+Even a wicked legend can seem golden on Mars. Larsen wasn't just my
+slumbering giant--or Dick's, or Harry's. He was the slumbering giant in
+all of us, and that's what made him so tremendous. Anything gigantic has
+beauty and power and drive to it.
+
+Alone we couldn't do anything with Larsen's gusto, so when some great
+act of wickedness was done with gusto how could it be us? Here comes
+Larsen! He'll shoulder all the guilt, but he won't feel guilty because
+he's the first man in Eden, the child who never grew up, the laughing
+boy, Hercules balancing the world on his shoulders and looking for a
+woman with long shining tresses and eyes like the stars of heaven to
+bend to his will.
+
+If such a woman came to life in Hercules' arms would you like the job of
+stopping him from sending the world crashing? Would you care to try?
+
+Don't you see? Larsen was closer to us than breathing and as necessary
+as food and drink and our dreams of a brighter tomorrow. Don't think we
+didn't hate him at times. Don't think we didn't curse and revile him.
+You may glorify a legend from here to eternity, but the luster never
+remains completely untarnished.
+
+Larsen wouldn't have seemed completely real to us if we hadn't given him
+muscles that could tire and eyes that could blink shut in weariness.
+Larsen had to sleep, just as we did. He'd disappear for days.
+
+We'd wink and say, "Larsen's getting a good long rest this time. But
+he'll be back with something new up his sleeve, don't you worry!"
+
+We could joke about it, sure. When Larsen stole or cheated we could
+pretend we were playing a game with loaded dice--not really a deadly
+game, but a game full of sound and fury with a great rousing outburst of
+merriment at the end of it.
+
+But there are deadlier games by far. I lay motionless, my arms locked
+across my chest, sweating from every pore. I stared at Harry. We'd been
+working all night digging a well, and in a few days water would be
+bubbling up sweet and cool and we wouldn't have to go to the canal to
+fill our cooking utensils. Harry was blinking and stirring and I could
+tell just by looking at him that he was uneasy too. I looked beyond him
+at the circle of shacks.
+
+Most of us were sleeping in the open, but there were a few youngsters in
+the shacks and women too worn out with drudgery to care much whether
+they slept in smothering darkness or under the clear cold light of the
+stars.
+
+I got slowly to my knees, scooped up a handful of sand, and let it
+dribble slowly through my fingers. Harry looked straight at me and his
+eyes widened in alarm. It must have been the look on my face. He arose
+and crossed to where I was sitting, his mouth twitching slightly. There
+was nothing very reassuring about Harry. Life had not been kind to him
+and he had resigned himself to accepting the slings and arrows of
+outrageous fortune without protest. He had one of those emaciated,
+almost skull-like faces which terrify children, and make women want to
+cry.
+
+"You don't look well, Tom," he said. "You've been driving yourself too
+hard."
+
+I looked away quickly. I had to tell him, but anything terrifying could
+demoralize Harry and make him throw his arm before his face in blind
+panic. But I couldn't keep it locked up inside me an instant longer.
+
+"Sit down, Harry," I whispered. "I want to talk to you. No sense in
+waking the others."
+
+"Oh," he said.
+
+He squatted beside me on the sand, his eyes searching my face. "What is
+it, Tom?"
+
+"I heard a scream," I said. "It was pretty awful. Somebody has been
+hurt--bad. It woke me up, and that takes some doing."
+
+Harry nodded. "You sleep like a log," he said.
+
+"I just lay still and listened," I said, "with my eyes wide open.
+Something moved out from the well--a two-legged something. It didn't
+make a sound. It was big, Harry, and it seemed to melt into the shadows.
+I don't know what kept me from leaping up and going after it. It had
+something to do with the way I felt. All frozen up inside."
+
+Harry appeared to understand. He nodded, his eyes darting toward the
+well. "How long ago was that?"
+
+"Ten--fifteen minutes."
+
+"You just waited for me to wake up?"
+
+"That's right," I said. "There was something about the scream that made
+me want to put off finding out. Two's company--and when you're alone
+with something like that it's best to talk it over before you act."
+
+I could see that Harry was pleased. Unnerved too, and horribly shaken.
+But he was pleased that I had turned to him as a friend I could trust.
+When you can't depend on life for anything else it's good to know you
+have a friend.
+
+I brushed sand from my trousers and got up. "Come on," I said. "We'll
+take a look."
+
+It was an ordeal for him. His face twitched and his eyes wavered. He
+knew I hadn't lied about the scream. If a single scream could unnerve me
+that much it had to be bad.
+
+We walked to the well in complete silence. There were shadows
+everywhere, chill and forbidding. Almost like people they seemed,
+whispering together, huddling close in ominous gossipy silence, aware of
+what we would find.
+
+It was a sixty-foot walk from the fire to the well. A walk in the sun--a
+walk in the bright hot sun of Mars, with utter horror perhaps at the end
+of it.
+
+The horror was there. Harry made a little choking noise deep in his
+throat, and my heart started pounding like a bass drum.
+
+
+II
+
+The man on the sand had no top to his head. His skull had been crushed
+and flattened so hideously that he seemed like a wooden figure resting
+there--an anatomical dummy with its skull-case lifted off.
+
+We looked around for the skull-case, hoping we'd find it, hoping we'd
+made a mistake and stumbled by accident into an open-air dissecting
+laboratory and were looking at ghastly props made of plastic and
+glittering metal instead of bone and muscle and flesh.
+
+But the man on the sand had a name. We'd known him for weeks and talked
+to him. He wasn't a medical dummy, but a corpse. His limbs were
+hideously convulsed, his eyes wide and staring. The sand beneath his
+head was clotted with dried blood. We looked for the weapon which had
+crushed his skull but couldn't find it.
+
+We looked for the weapon before we saw the footprints in the sand. Big
+they were--incredibly large and massive. A man with a size-twelve shoe
+might have left such prints if the leather had become a little soggy and
+spread out around the soles.
+
+"The poor guy," Harry whispered.
+
+I knew how he felt. We had all liked Ned. A harmless little guy with a
+great love of solitude, a guy who hadn't a malicious hair in his head. A
+happy little guy who liked to sing and dance in the light of a
+high-leaping fire. He had a banjo and was good at music making. Who
+could have hated Ned with a rage so primitive and savage? I looked at
+Harry and saw that he was wondering the same thing.
+
+Harry looked pretty bad, about ready to cave in. He was leaning against
+the well, a tormented fury in his eyes.
+
+"The murderous bastard," he muttered. "I'd like to get him by the throat
+and choke the breath out of him. Who'd want to do a thing like that to
+Ned."
+
+"I can't figure it either," I said.
+
+Then I remembered. I don't think Molly Egan really could have loved Ned.
+The curious thing about it was that Ned didn't even need the kind of
+love she could have given him. He was a self-sufficient little guy
+despite his frailness and didn't really need a woman to look after him.
+But Molly must have seen something pathetic in him.
+
+Molly was a beautiful woman in her own right, and there wasn't a man in
+the camp who hadn't envied Ned. It was puzzling, but it could have
+explained why Ned was lying slumped on the sand with a bashed-in skull.
+It could have explained why someone had hated him enough to kill him.
+
+Without lifting a finger Ned had won Molly's love. That could make some
+other guy as mad as a caged hyena--the wrong sort of other guy. Even a
+small man could have shattered Ned's skull, but the prints on the sand
+were big.
+
+How many men in the camp wore size-twelve shoes? That was the sixty-four
+dollar question, and it hung in the shimmering air between Harry and
+myself like an unspoken challenge. We could almost see the curve of the
+big question mark suspended in the dazzle.
+
+I thought awhile, looking at Harry. Then I took a long, deep breath and
+said, "We'd better talk it over with Bill Seaton first. If it gets
+around too fast those footprints will be trampled flat. And if tempers
+start rising anything could happen."
+
+Harry nodded. Bill was the kind of guy you could depend on in an
+emergency. Cool, poised, efficient, with an air of authority that
+commanded respect. He could be pigheaded at times, but his sense of
+justice was as keen as a whip.
+
+Harry and I walked very quietly across a stretch of tumbled sand and
+halted at the door to Bill's shack. Bill was a bachelor and we knew
+there'd be no woman inside to put her foot down and tell him he'd be a
+fool to act as a lawman. Or would there be? We had to chance it.
+
+Law-enforcement is a thankless job whether on Earth or on Mars. That's
+why it attracts the worst--and the best. If you're a power-drunk sadist
+you'll take the job just for the pleasure it gives you. But if you're
+really interested in keeping violence within bounds so that fairly
+decent lads get a fighting chance to build for the future, you'll take
+the job with no thought of reward beyond the simple satisfaction of
+lending a helping hand.
+
+Bill Seaton was such a man, even if he did enjoy the limelight and liked
+to be in a position of command.
+
+"Come on, Harry," I said. "We may as well wake him up and get it over
+with."
+
+We went into the shack. Bill was sleeping on the floor with his long
+legs drawn up. His mouth was open and he was snoring lustily. I couldn't
+help thinking how much he looked like an overgrown grasshopper. But that
+was just a first impression springing from overwrought nerves.
+
+I bent down and shook Bill awake. I grabbed his arm and shook him until
+his jaw snapped shut and he shot up straight, suddenly galvanized.
+Instantly the grotesque aspect fell from him. Dignity came upon him and
+enveloped him like a cloak.
+
+"Ned, you say? The poor little cuss! So help me--if I get my hands on
+the rat who did it I'll roast him over a slow fire!"
+
+He got up, staggered to an equipment locker, and took out a sun helmet
+and a pair of shorts. He dressed quickly, swearing constantly and
+staring out the door at the bright dawn glow as if he wanted to send
+both of his fists crashing into the first suspicious guy to cross his
+path.
+
+"We can't have those footprints trampled," he muttered. "There are a lot
+of dumb bastards here who don't know the first thing about keeping
+pointers intact. Those prints may be the only thing we'll have to go
+on."
+
+"Just the three of us can handle it, Bill," I said. "When you decide
+what should be done we can wake the others."
+
+Bill nodded. "Keeping it quiet is the important thing. We'll carry him
+back here. When we break the news I want that body out of sight."
+
+Harry and Bill and I--we took another walk in the sun. I looked at
+Harry, and the greenish tinge which had crept into his face gave me a
+jolt. He's taking this pretty hard, I thought. If I hadn't known him so
+well I might have jumped to an ugly conclusion. But I just couldn't
+imagine Harry quarreling with Ned over Molly.
+
+How was I taking it myself? I raised my hand and looked at it. There was
+no tremor. Nerves steady, brain clear. No pleasure in enforcing the
+law--pass that buck to Bill. But there was a gruesome job ahead, and I
+was standing up to it as well as could be expected.
+
+Ever try lifting a corpse? The corpse of a stranger is easier to lift
+than the corpse of a man you've known and liked. Harry and I lifted him
+together. Between us the dead weight didn't seem too intolerable--not at
+first. But it quickly became a terrible, heavy limpness that dragged at
+our arms like some soggy log dredged up from the dark waters of the
+canal.
+
+We carried him into the shack and eased him down on the floor. His head
+fell back and his eyes lolled.
+
+Death is always shameful. It strips away all human reticences and makes
+a mockery of human dignity and man's rebellion against the cruelty of
+fate.
+
+For a moment we stood staring down at all that was left of Ned. I looked
+at Bill. "How many men in the camp wear number-twelve shoes?"
+
+"We'll find out soon enough."
+
+All this time we hadn't mentioned Larsen. Not one word about Larsen, not
+one spoken word. Cheating, yes. Lying, and treacherous disloyalty, and
+viciousness, and spite. Fights around the campfires at midnight,
+battered faces and broken wrists and a cursing that never ceased. All
+that we could blame on Larsen. But a harmless little guy lying dead by a
+well in a spreading pool of blood--that was an outrage that stopped us
+dead in our legend-making tracks.
+
+There is something in the human mind which recoils from too outrageous a
+deception. How wonderful it would have been to say, "Larsen was here
+again last night. He found a little guy who had never harmed anyone
+standing by a well in the moonlight. Just for sheer delight he decided
+to kill the little guy right then and there." Just to add luster to the
+legend, just to send a thrill of excitement about the camp.
+
+No, that would have been the lie colossal which no sane man could have
+quite believed.
+
+Something happened then to further unnerve us.
+
+The most disturbing sound you can hear on Mars is the whispering.
+Usually it begins as a barely audible murmur and swells in volume with
+every shift of the wind. But now it started off high pitched and
+insistent and did not stop.
+
+It was the whispering of a dying race. The Martians are as elusive as
+elves and all the pitiless logic of science had failed to draw them
+forth into the sunlight to stand before men in uncompromising arrogance
+as peers of the human race.
+
+That failure was a tragedy in itself. If man's supremacy is to be
+challenged at all let it be by a creature of flesh-and-blood, a
+big-brained biped who must kill to live. Better that by far than a
+ghostly flickering in the deepening dusk, a whispering and a flapping
+and a long-drawn sighing prophesying death.
+
+Oh, the Martians were real enough. A flitting vampire bat is real, or a
+stinging ray in the depths of a blue lagoon. But who could point to a
+Martian and say, "I have seen you plain, in broad daylight. I have
+looked into your owlish eyes and watched you go flitting over the sand
+on your thin, stalklike legs? I know there is nothing mysterious about
+you. You are like a water insect skimming the surface of a pond in a
+familiar meadow on Earth. You are quick and alert, but no match for a
+man. You are no more than an interesting insect."
+
+Who could say that, when there were ruins buried deep beneath the sand
+to give the lie to any such idea. First the ruins, and then the Martians
+themselves, always elusive, gnomelike, goblinlike, flitting away into
+the dissolving dusk.
+
+You're a comparative archaeologist and you're on Mars with the first
+batch of rugged youngsters to come tumbling out of a spaceship with
+stardust in their eyes. You see those youngsters digging wells and
+sweating in the desert. You see the prefabricated housing units go up,
+the tangle of machinery, the camp sites growing lusty with midnight
+brawls and skull-cracking escapades. You see the towns in the desert,
+the law-enforcement committees, the camp followers, the reform fanatics.
+
+You're a sober-minded scholar, so you start digging in the ruins. You
+bring up odd-looking cylinders, rolls of threaded film, instruments of
+science so complex they make you giddy.
+
+You wonder about the Martians--what they were like when they were a
+young and proud race. If you're an archaeologist you wonder. But Bill
+and I--we were youngsters still. Oh, sure, we were in our thirties, but
+who would have suspected that? Bill looked twenty-seven and I hadn't a
+gray hair in my head.
+
+
+III
+
+Bill nodded at Harry. "You'd better stay here. Tom and I will be asking
+some pointed questions, and our first move will depend on the answers we
+get. Don't let anyone come snooping around this shack. If anyone sticks
+his head in and starts to turn ugly, warn him just once--then shoot to
+kill." He handed Harry a gun.
+
+Harry nodded grimly and settled himself on the floor close to Ned. For
+the first time since I'd known him, Harry looked completely sure of
+himself.
+
+As we emerged from the shack the whispering was so loud the entire camp
+had been placed on the alert. There would be no need for us to go into
+shack after shack, watching surprise and shock come into their eyes.
+
+A dozen or more men were between Bill's shack and the well. They were
+staring grimly at the dawn, as if they could already see blood on the
+sky, spilling over on the sand and spreading out in a sinister pool at
+their feet. A mirage-like pool mirroring their own hidden forebodings,
+mirroring a knotted rope and the straining shoulders of men too vengeful
+to know the meaning of restraint.
+
+Jim Kenny stood apart and alone, about forty feet from the well, staring
+straight at us. His shirt was open at the throat, exposing a patch of
+hairy chest, and his big hands were wedged deeply into his belt. He
+stood about six feet three, very powerful, and with large feet.
+
+I nudged Bill's arm. "What do you think?" I asked.
+
+Kenny did seem a likely suspect. Molly had caught his eye right from the
+start, and he had lost no time in pursuing her. A guy like Kenny would
+have felt that losing out to a man of his own breed would have been a
+terrible blow to his pride. But just imagine Kenny losing out to a
+little guy like Ned. It would have infuriated him and glazed his eyes
+with a red film of hate.
+
+Bill answered my question slowly, his eyes on Kenny's cropped head. "I
+think we'd better take a look at his shoes," he said.
+
+We edged up slowly, taking care not to disturb the others, pretending we
+were sauntering toward the well on a before-breakfast stroll.
+
+It was then that Molly came out of her shack. She stood blinking for an
+instant in the dawn glare, her unbound hair falling in a tumbled dark
+mass to her shoulders, her eyes still drowsy with sleep. She wore
+rust-colored slippers and a form-fitted yellow robe, belted in at the
+waist.
+
+Molly wasn't beautiful exactly. But there was something pulse-stirring
+about her and it was easy to understand how a man like Kenny might find
+her difficult to resist.
+
+Bill slanted a glance at Kenny, then shrugged and looked straight at
+Molly. He turned to me, his voice almost a whisper, "She's got to be
+told, Tom. You do it. She likes you a lot."
+
+I'd been wondering about that myself--just how much she liked me. It was
+hard to be sure.
+
+Bill saw my hesitation, and frowned. "You can tell if she's covering up.
+Her reaction may give us a lead."
+
+Molly looked startled when she saw me approaching without the mask I
+usually wore when I waltzed her around and grinned and ruffled her hair
+and told her that she was the cutest kid imaginable and would make some
+man--not me--a fine wife.
+
+That made telling her all the harder. The hardest part was at the
+end--when she stared at me dry-eyed and threw her arms around me as if I
+was the last support left to her on Earth.
+
+For a moment I almost forgot we were not on Earth. On Earth I might have
+been able to comfort her in a completely sane way. But on Mars when a
+woman comes into your arms your emotions can turn molten in a matter of
+seconds.
+
+"Steady," I whispered. "We're just good friends, remember?"
+
+"I'd be willing to forget, Tom," she said.
+
+"You've had a terrible shock," I whispered. "You really loved that
+little guy--more than you know. It's natural enough that you should feel
+a certain warmth toward me. I just happened to be here--so you kissed
+me."
+
+"No, Tom. It isn't that way at all--"
+
+I might have let myself go a little then if Kenny hadn't seen us. He
+stood very still for an instant, staring at Molly. Then his eyes
+narrowed and he walked slowly toward us, his hands still wedged in his
+belt.
+
+I looked quickly at Molly, and saw that her features had hardened. There
+was a look of dark suspicion in her eyes. Bill had been watching Kenny,
+too, waiting for him to move. He measured footsteps with Kenny,
+advancing in the same direction from a different angle at a pace so
+calculated that they seemed to meet by accident directly in front of us.
+
+Bill didn't draw but his hand never left his hip. His voice came clear
+and sharp and edged with cold insistence. "Know anything about it,
+Kenny?"
+
+Strain seemed to tighten Kenny's face, but there was no panic in his
+eyes, no actual glint of fear. "What made you think I'd know?" he asked.
+
+Bill didn't say a word. He just started staring at Kenny's shoes. He
+stood back a bit and continued to stare as if something vitally
+important had escaped him and taken refuge beneath the soggy leather
+around Kenny's feet.
+
+"What size shoes do you wear, Jim?" he asked.
+
+Kenny must have suspected that the question was charged with as much
+explosive risk as a detonating wire set to go off at the faintest jar.
+His eyes grew shrewd and mocking.
+
+"So the guy who did it left prints in the sand?" he said. "Prints made
+by big shoes?"
+
+"That's right," Bill said. "You have a very active mind."
+
+Kenny laughed then, the mockery deepening in his stare. "Well," he said,
+"suppose we have a look at those prints, and if it will ease your mind
+I'll take off my shoes and you can try them out for size."
+
+Kenny and Bill and I walked slowly from Molly's shack to the well in the
+hot and blazing glare, and the whispering went right on, getting under
+our skin in a tormenting sort of way.
+
+Kenny still wore that disturbing grin. He looked at the prints and
+grunted. "Yeah," he said, "they sure are big. Biggest prints I've ever
+seen."
+
+He sat down and started unlacing his shoes. First the right shoe, then
+the left. He pulled off both shoes and handed them to Bill.
+
+"Fit them in," he said. "Measure them for size. Measure _me_ for size,
+and to hell with you!"
+
+Bill made a careful check. There were eight prints, and he fitted the
+shoes painstakingly into each of them. There was space to spare at each
+try.
+
+It cleared Kenny completely. He wasn't a killer--this time. We might
+have roused the camp to a lynching fury and Kenny would have died for a
+crime another man had committed. I shut my eyes and saw Larsen swinging
+from a roof top, a black hood over his face. I saw Molly standing in the
+sunlight by my side, her face a stony mask.
+
+I opened my eyes and there was Kenny, grinning contemptuously at us.
+He'd called our bluff and won out. Now the shoe was on the other foot.
+
+A cold chill ran up my spine. It was Kenny who was doing the staring
+now, and he was looking directly at my shoes. He stood back a bit and
+continued to stare. He was dramatizing his sudden triumph in a way that
+turned my blood to ice.
+
+Then I saw that Bill was staring too--straight at the shoes of a man he
+had known for three years and grown to like and trust. But underlying
+the warmth and friendliness in Bill was a granite-like integrity which
+nothing could shake.
+
+It was Bill who spoke first. "I guess you'd better take them off, Tom,"
+he said. "We may as well be thorough about this."
+
+Sure, I was big. I grew up fast as a kid and at eighteen I weighed two
+hundred and thirty pounds, all lean flesh. If shoes ran large I could
+sometimes cram my feet into size twelves, but I felt much more
+comfortable in a size or two larger than that.
+
+What made it worse, Molly liked me. I was involved with her, but no one
+knew how much. No one knew whether we'd quarreled or not, or how
+insanely jealous I could be. No one knew whether Molly had only
+pretended to like Ned while carrying a torch for me, and how dangerously
+complex the situation might have become all along the line.
+
+I stood very still, listening. The whispering was so loud now it drowned
+out the sighing of the wind. I looked down at my shoes. They were caked
+with mud and soggy and discolored. Day after day I'd trudge back and
+forth from the canal to the shacks in the blazing sunlight without
+giving my feet a thought until the ache in them had become intolerable,
+rest an absolute necessity.
+
+There was only one thing to do--call Kenny's bluff so fast he wouldn't
+have time to hurl another accusation at me.
+
+I handed Bill both of my shoes. He looked at me and nodded. I waited,
+listening to the whispering rise and fall, watching him stoop and fit
+the shoes into the prints on the sand.
+
+He straightened suddenly. His face was expressionless, but I could see
+that he was waging a terrible inward struggle with himself.
+
+"Your shoes come pretty close to filling out those prints, Tom," he
+said. "I can't be sure--but a wax impression test should pretty well
+clear this up." He gripped my arm and nodded toward the shacks. "Better
+stick close to me."
+
+Kenny took a slow step backward, his jaw tightening, his eyes searching
+Bill's face. "Wax impression test, hell!" he said. "You've got your
+murderer. I'm going to see he gets what's coming to him--right now!"
+
+Bill shook his head. "I'll do this my way," he said.
+
+Kenny glared at him, then laughed harshly. "You won't have a chance," he
+said. "The boys won't stand for it. I'm going to spread the word around,
+and you'd better not try to stop me."
+
+That did it. I'd been holding myself in, but I had a sudden,
+overpowering urge to send my fist crashing into Kenny's face, to send
+him crashing to the sand. I started for him, but he jumped back and
+started shouting.
+
+I can't remember exactly what he shouted. But he said just enough to put
+a noose around my neck. Every man and woman between the shacks and the
+well swung about to stare at me. I saw shock and rage flare in the eyes
+of men who usually had steady nerves. They were not calm now--not one of
+them.
+
+
+IV
+
+It all happened so fast I was caught off balance. In the harsh Martian
+sunlight human emotions can be as unstable as a wind-lashed dune.
+
+A crazy thought flashed through my mind: Will Molly believe this too?
+Will she join these madmen in their wild thirst for vengeance? My need
+for her was suddenly overwhelming. Just seeing her face would have
+helped, but now more men had emerged from the shacks and I couldn't see
+beyond them. They were heading straight for me and I knew that even Bill
+would be powerless to stop them.
+
+You can't argue with an avalanche. It was rolling straight toward me,
+gathering momentum as it came--not one man or a dozen, but a solid wall
+of human hate and unreason.
+
+Bill stood his ground. He had drawn his gun, and he started shouting
+that the prints couldn't have been made by my shoes. I chalked that up
+to his credit and resolved never to forget it.
+
+I knew I'd have to make a dash for it. I ran as fast as I could, keeping
+my eyes on the glimmer of sunlight on rising dunes, and deep hollows
+which a carefully placed bullet could have quickly changed into a burial
+mound.
+
+A sudden crackling burst of gunfire ripped through the air. Directly in
+my path the sand geysered up as the bullets ripped and tore at it.
+Somebody wasn't a good marksman, or had let blind rage unnerve him and
+spoil his aim. A lot of somebodies--for the firing increased and became
+almost continuous for an instant, a dull crackling which drowned out the
+whispering and the sighing of the wind.
+
+Then abruptly all sound ceased. Utter stillness descended on the
+desert--an unnatural, terrifying stillness, as if nature herself had
+stopped breathing and was waiting for someone to scream.
+
+I must have been mad to turn. A weaving target has a chance, but a
+target standing motionless is a sitting duck and his life hangs by a
+hair. But still I turned.
+
+Something was happening between the well and the shacks which halted the
+pursuit dead in its tracks. One of the shacks was wrapped in darting
+tongues of flame, and a woman was screaming, and a man close to her was
+grappling with something huge and misshapen which loomed starkly against
+the dawn glow.
+
+A human shape? I could not be sure. It seemed monstrous, with a bulge
+between its shoulders which gave a grotesque and distorted aspect to the
+shadow which its weaving bulk cast upon the sand. I could see the shadow
+clearly across three hundred feet of sand. It lengthened and shortened,
+as if an octopus-like ferocity had given it the power to distort itself
+at will, lengthening its tentacles and then whipping them back again.
+
+But it was not an octopus. It had legs and arms, and it was crushing the
+man in a grip of steel. I could see that now. I stared as the others
+were staring, their backs turned to me, their blind hatred for me
+blotted out by that greater horror.
+
+I suddenly realized that the shape was human. It had the head and
+shoulders of a man, and a torso that could twist with muscular purpose,
+and massive hands that could maul and maim. It threw the hapless man
+from it with a sudden convulsive contraction of its entire bulk. I had
+never seen a human being move in quite that way, but even as its
+violence flared its manlike aspect became more pronounced.
+
+A frightful thing happened then. The woman screamed and rushed toward
+the brutish maniac with her fingers splayed. The swaying figure bent,
+grabbed her about the waist, and lifted her high into the air. I thought
+for a moment he was about to crush her as he had crushed the man. But I
+was wrong. She was hurled to the sand, but with a violence so brutal
+that she went instantly limp.
+
+Then the brutal madman turned, and I saw his face. If ever monstrous
+cruelty and malign cunning looked out of a human countenance it looked
+out of the eyes that stared in my direction, remorseless in their hate.
+
+I could not tear my gaze from his face. The hate in it could be sensed,
+even across a blinding haze of sunlight that blotted out the sharp
+contours of physical things. But more than hate could be sensed. There
+was something tremendous about that face, as if the evil which had
+ravaged it had left the searing brand of Lucifer himself!
+
+For an instant the madman stood motionless, his ghastly brutality
+unchallenged. Then Jeff Winters started for it. Jeff had come to Mars
+alone and grown more solitary with every passing day. He was a brooding,
+ingrown man, secretive and sullen, with a streak of wildness which he
+usually managed to control. He went for the madman like a gigantic
+terrier pup, shaggy and ferocious and contemptuous of death.
+
+The big figure turned quickly, raised his arm, and brought his closed
+fist down on Jeff's skull. Jeff collapsed like a shattered plaster cast.
+His body seemed to break and splinter, and he sprawled forward on the
+sand.
+
+He did not get up.
+
+Frank Anders had guns on both hips, and he drew them fast. No one knew
+what kind of man Anders was. He hardly ever complained or made a
+spectacle of himself. A little guy with sandy hair and cold blue eyes,
+he had an accuracy of aim that did his talking for him.
+
+His guns suddenly roared. For an instant the air between his hands and
+the maniac was a crackling wall of flame. The brute swayed a little but
+did not turn aside. He went straight for Anders with both arms spread
+wide.
+
+He caught Anders about the waist, lifted him up, and slammed his body
+down against the sand. A sickness came over me as I stared. The madman
+bashed Anders' head against the ground again and again. Then suddenly
+the big arms relaxed and Anders sagged limply to the ground.
+
+For an instant the madman swayed slowly back and forth, like a
+blood-stained marionette on a wire. Then he moved forward with a
+terrible, shambling gait, his head lowered, a dark, misshapen shadow
+seeming to lengthen before him on the sand like a spindle of flame.
+
+The clearing was abruptly tumultuous with sound. The fury which had been
+unleashed against me turned upon the monster and became a closed circle
+of deadly, intent purpose hemming him in--and he was caught in a
+crossfire that hurled him backwards to the sand.
+
+He jumped up and lunged straight for the well. What happened then was
+like the awakening stages of some horrible dream. The madman shambled
+past the well, the air at his back a crackling sheet of flame. The
+barrage behind him was continuous and merciless. The men were organized
+now, standing together in a solid wall, firing with deadly accuracy and
+a grim purpose which transcended fear.
+
+The madman went clumping on past me and climbed a dune with his
+shoulders held straight. With a sunset glare deepening about him, he
+went striding over the dune and out of sight.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+I turned and stared back at the camp. The pursuit had passed the well
+and was headed for me. But no one paid the slightest attention to me.
+Twelve men passed me, walking three abreast. Bill came along in their
+wake, his eyes stony hard. He reached out as he passed me, gripping my
+shoulder, giving me a foot-of-the-gallows kind of smile.
+
+"We know now who killed Ned," he whispered. "We know, fella. Take it
+easy, relax."
+
+My head was throbbing, but I could see the big prints from where I
+stood--the prints of a murderer betrayed by his insatiable urge to slay.
+
+I saw Kenny pass, and he gave me a contemptuous grin. He had done his
+best to destroy me, but there was no longer any hate left in me.
+
+I took a slow step forward--and fell flat on my face....
+
+I woke up with my head in Molly's lap. She was looking down into my
+face, sobbing in a funny sort of way and running her fingers through my
+hair.
+
+She looked startled when she saw that I was wide awake. She blinked
+furiously and started fumbling at her waist for a handkerchief.
+
+"I must have passed out cold," I said. "It's quite a strain to be at the
+receiving end of a lynching bee. And what I saw afterwards wasn't
+exactly pleasant."
+
+"Darling," she whispered, "don't move, don't say a word. You're going to
+be all right."
+
+"You bet I am!" I said. "Right now I feel great."
+
+My arm went around her shoulder, and I drew her head down until her
+breath was warm on my face. I kissed her hair and lips and eyes for a
+full minute in utter recklessness.
+
+When I released her her eyes were shining, and she was laughing a little
+and crying too. "You've changed your mind," she said. "You believe me
+now, don't you?"
+
+"Don't talk," I said. "Don't say another word. I just want to look at
+you."
+
+"It was you right from the start," she said. "Not Ned--or anyone else."
+
+"I was a blind fool," I said.
+
+"You never gave me a second glance."
+
+"One glance was enough," I whispered. "But when I saw how it seemed to
+be between you and Ned--"
+
+"I was never in love with him. It was just--"
+
+"Never mind, don't say it," I said. "It's over and done with."
+
+I stopped, remembering. Her eyes grew wide and startled, and I could see
+that she was remembering too.
+
+"What happened?" I asked. "Did they catch that vicious rat?"
+
+She brushed back her hair, the sunlight suddenly harsh on her face. "He
+fell into the canal. The bullets brought him down, and he collapsed on
+the bank."
+
+Her hand tightened on my wrist. "Bill told me. He tried to swim, but the
+current carried him under. He went down and never came up."
+
+"I'm glad," I said. "Did anyone in the camp ever see him before?"
+
+Molly shook her head. "Bill said he was a drifter--a dangerous maniac
+who must have been crazed by the sun."
+
+"I see," I said.
+
+I reached out and drew her into my arms again, and we rested for a
+moment stretched out side by side on the sand.
+
+"It's funny," I said after a while.
+
+"What is?"
+
+"You know what they say about the whispering. Sometimes when you listen
+intently you seem to hear words deep in your mind. As if the Martians
+had telepathic powers."
+
+"Perhaps they have," she said.
+
+I glanced sideways at her. "Remember," I said. "There were cities on
+Mars when our ancestors were hairy apes. The Martian civilization was
+flourishing and great fifty million years before the pyramids arose as a
+monument to human solidarity and worth. A bad monument, built by slave
+labor. But at least it was a start."
+
+"Now you're being poetic, Tom," she said.
+
+"Perhaps I am. The Martians must have had their pyramids too. And at the
+pyramid stage they must have had their Larsens, to shoulder all the
+guilt. To them we may still be in the pyramid stage. Suppose--"
+
+"Suppose what?"
+
+"Suppose they wanted to warn us, to give us a lesson we couldn't forget.
+How can we say with certainty that a dying race couldn't still make use
+of certain techniques that are far beyond us."
+
+"I'm afraid I don't understand," she said, puzzled.
+
+"Someday," I said, "our own science will take a tiny fragment of human
+tissue from the body of a dead man, put it into an incubating machine,
+and a new man will arise again from that tiny shred of flesh. A man who
+can walk and live and breathe again, and love again, and die again after
+another full lifetime.
+
+"Perhaps the Martian science was once as great as that. And the Martians
+might still remember a few of the techniques. Perhaps from our human
+brains, from our buried memories and desires, they could filch the key
+and bring to horrible life a thing so monstrous and so terrible--"
+
+Her hand went suddenly cold in mine. "Tom, you can't honestly think--"
+
+"No," I said. "It's nonsense, of course. Forget it."
+
+I didn't tell her what the whispering had seemed to say, deep in my
+mind.
+
+_We've brought you Larsen! You wanted Larsen, and we've made him for
+you! His flesh and his mind--his cruel strength and his wicked heart!
+Here he comes, here he is! Larsen, Larsen, Larsen!_
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+
+ This etext was produced from _Fantastic Universe_ January 1954.
+ Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
+ copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and
+ typographical errors have been corrected without note.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Man the Martians Made, by Frank Belknap Long
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #29432 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/29432)