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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c124867 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #50877 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50877) diff --git a/old/50877-h.zip b/old/50877-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 45bb2c8..0000000 --- a/old/50877-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/50877-h/50877-h.htm b/old/50877-h/50877-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 2b9959f..0000000 --- a/old/50877-h/50877-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1111 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Education of a Martian, by Joseph Shallit. - </title> - - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.ph1, .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } -.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } -.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } -.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } -.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Education of a Martian, by Joseph Shallit - -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/license - - -Title: Education of a Martian - -Author: Joseph Shallit - -Release Date: January 8, 2016 [EBook #50877] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EDUCATION OF A MARTIAN *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="363" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>EDUCATION OF A MARTIAN</h1> - -<p>By JOSEPH SHALLIT</p> - -<p>Illustrated by EMSH</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Galaxy Science Fiction August 1952.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence<br /> -that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3"><i>It was for his ideals Joyce loved the alien.<br /> -But ideals are conditioned reflexes....</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Walter Harley glowered across the room at his daughter. He didn't like -the willful tone that crept into her voice these days; he didn't like -the way her gray eyes spread wide at him, the way her lips tensed, the -way she drew herself up, tall and slim, an arch of determination. The -darned girl had grown up too fast, that was the trouble.</p> - -<p>Joyce faced up to his scowl, shaky as she was. She knew what he was -thinking, because he had told her enough times—she was a headstrong -girl without a brain cell to her name; her college education had been -a waste; worse than that, it had pumped her full of crazy ideas, had -knocked her sense of values upside down.</p> - -<p>"How anybody in their right mind...." he growled at her. "Listen, -you've already been to Mars. You've seen it. What do you want to go to -that miserable, dried-up hole again for?"</p> - -<p>"Because ... because I was happy there," she said tremulously.</p> - -<p>"What? With those miserable savages?" He slapped his euphoria pipe down -on the table. "Ethel, will you listen to that?"</p> - -<p>Joyce's mother, plump and round-shouldered and vague-eyed, was deep in -her reclining chair, the miniature transviewer on her lap, watching a -garden party in Rome.</p> - -<p>"What is it, dear?" she asked unhappily.</p> - -<p>"This crazy girl wants to take her vacation on Mars again."</p> - -<p>"Well ... it <i>is</i> educational," Ethel said.</p> - -<p>Harley made a wild, exasperated sound. "What do you know about it? -You've never been there. It's a dried-up hole, I tell you. It's a -slum—it's one great big slum. Just one decent hotel in the whole -place, and that's only because some of our boys went out there and put -it up for them."</p> - -<p>"That awful hotel—" Joyce caught herself. Not an argument about this, -please! There was trouble enough waiting for her. "I wouldn't stay at -the hotel," she said quietly.</p> - -<p>"What do you mean? Where would you stay?"</p> - -<p>"With some people I know there."</p> - -<p>She saw his heavy eyebrows clench, saw his eyes search her -suspiciously. She heard her mother's uneasy movements. She sat tautly, -her hands in her lap.</p> - -<p>"Who," Harley said finally, "are these people?"</p> - -<p>"Just ... some friends," Joyce said. Now it was coming, now, now.</p> - -<p>"What friends?" Her father's voice was lower, harsher.</p> - -<p>"Just some people I met when I was there last time."</p> - -<p>"Just some.... Say! Is this why we've been running up these solarphone -bills? What've you been doing—talking to these people every week?"</p> - -<p>"Only a few times."</p> - -<p>"Look here. Look at me. Joyce, answer me. Have you been talking to that -fellow you told us about—the one you met on your other trip?"</p> - -<p>She let it out, a tiny, miserable, "Yes."</p> - -<p>Harley's hand slammed down on the table. He wrestled his heavy body -up out of his chair, stamped halfway across the room toward her and -stopped.</p> - -<p>"Young lady, I'm not going to have this. I'm not going to have -anything like this! You hear? You want to get tangled up with him? My -God, you've been communicating with him for a <i>year</i>?"</p> - -<p>"Whenever I was able to," Joyce said hoarsely, looking at the floor.</p> - -<p>"Joyce!" He came to her, reached down and lifted her chin. "Joyce, -you're not—you're not in love with this—this creature!"</p> - -<p>She nodded, suddenly angered at her weakness, angered at the wetness in -her eyes.</p> - -<p>"Oh, my God!" Harley raised his arms, brought them down with a slap -against his thighs. He turned away from her. He glared at his wife, who -was drifting nervously up out of her chair. He turned back to Joyce. -"You're not serious. You can't be. This can't—this just can't happen -to us. You'll have to get this foolishness out of your head right now. -Right this minute. My God, the next thing you know, you'll be wanting -to marry one of those things."</p> - -<p>"I do...." The sound barely came out. She swallowed, forced her voice -up. "I am going to marry him."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A blast of silence swept the room, but, strangely, the shock of it -didn't touch her. All at once, she was calm, quiet. She had said it, -and now she was armored against everything.</p> - -<p>"No," her father was saying dully. "No, Joyce. No."</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry, Dad," she said all in a rush. "I've thought about it a long -time. I thought I'd forget him after a little while. I wasn't able to. -I'm in love with him—I'll always be in love with him. When I come -back, I'm bringing him with me. We're going to be married here."</p> - -<p>Now, finally, the storm broke out of him. He yelled at her, he stamped -around, his fists pounded the air—it was just as she had pictured it, -dreaded it. Yet she was unshaken now, detachedly able to watch him as -if he were some unruly, unintelligent child. I am going to marry him, -she had said, and once the words were out, everything else was easy. -There were no problems. There was nothing to be afraid of.</p> - -<p>"His name is Gregrill," she said. "They don't have last names. We'll -have to make one up or perhaps use mine."</p> - -<p>"I'll see my daughter dead before I let her marry a Martian!" Harley -roared.</p> - -<p>"But if she really loves him—" Ethel intruded timorously.</p> - -<p>"Loves him? Love that miserable scum?"</p> - -<p>"Dad, please," Joyce said quietly. "You're condemning somebody you've -never seen."</p> - -<p>"I don't have to see him! He's a Martian, isn't he? He has horns, -doesn't he?"</p> - -<p>"They're not horns. They're antennae."</p> - -<p>"Call them what you like, they're horns!"</p> - -<p>"They're antennae, Dad," Joyce repeated firmly. "They're proof of -advanced development. They can communicate with each other hundreds of -miles. They can sense instantly—"</p> - -<p>"I don't want to hear about it!"</p> - -<p>"But, dear," Ethel tried again, "sometimes, when they marry an -Earthling girl, they cut those horns off, and then they look just like -us."</p> - -<p>"I wouldn't let him—" Joyce bit off each word—"do any such thing. I'd -be utterly ashamed of him. I wouldn't marry him if he knuckled under -to our prejudices like that. What does he have to be apologetic about? -He's a superior being—"</p> - -<p>"Superior?" her father howled at her, but his voice was losing its -power.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"In spite of our buildings and machines and things, they're far richer -than we are, really. They have such a richness of feeling, such warmth, -such sensitivity. They understand and feel so much more than we do. -It's—it's fantastic. It's just something we can't comprehend."</p> - -<p>"I see," he said bitterly. "And how are you going to comprehend them?"</p> - -<p>"Gregrill can speak Earthling as well as I can," Joyce said. "He's a -graduate of the university there in Memnonia. Maybe, with his guidance, -I'll eventually get some insight into—"</p> - -<p>"My God," Harley said dully. He walked unsteadily away from her and -fell into his chair. "A daughter of mine...." He looked at her again. -"Joyce, can't you see it's impossible? It couldn't work. These mixed -marriages have never worked out. Never! Don't you see how it would be? -You'd be an outcast. None of your friends would ever want to see you -again."</p> - -<p>"Well, if they should happen to be stupid and prejudiced—"</p> - -<p>"<i>I'm</i> that stupid and prejudiced! I wouldn't let a Martian in my -house! They're the scum of the Solar System!"</p> - -<p>"Dad, I won't listen to you talk like that."</p> - -<p>"What do you want to do—be the wife of a janitor?" he went on -relentlessly. "Porters and janitors, that's all they're fit for."</p> - -<p>"If they were ever given a chance—"</p> - -<p>"A chance? What would they do with it? Loaf around dreamily, get -nowhere. Nowhere at all! And pull us down to their level while they're -fouling up our civilization!"</p> - -<p>Joyce stood up, her hands trembling.</p> - -<p>"You're not going to Mars!" Harley shouted. "You're not going, you -hear? You're staying right here on earth!"</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid," she said unsteadily, "that you're too late. I already -have my ticket. I expected you'd make a fuss. My—my trunk is at the -spaceport. Nothing can stop me now, Dad."</p> - -<p>"I'll stop you. You'll never marry that scum. By God, if I have to take -it to the Panterrestrial Court—"</p> - -<p>"Good-by, Dad. I'm not booked to sail till Thursday, but I think -it's better if I spend the remaining days in a hotel. It'll be more -comfortable for all of us."</p> - -<p>"Joyce, come back here!"</p> - -<p>"Good-by, Dad." She waved a shaky hand at her mother. "Good-by, Mom. -See you soon."</p> - -<p>"Joyce! Come back!"</p> - -<p>She went out, quietly closing the door behind her.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The huge 1200-passenger spaceship settled down slowly toward the -landing field, its braking jets making a queer whistling sound in the -thin Martian air. The passengers crowded to the windows. Most of them -were already in their thermosuits, though the daylight temperature -was close to fifty degrees. Some were even adjusting their oxygen -packs. These weren't necessary at all, except for long hikes or intense -exertion, which few of the visitors would indulge in. But they'd -bought the things and they were going to use them—it was part of the -adventure.</p> - -<p>Most of the passengers were working people on vacation, taking -advantage of the special two-in-a-room rate. There were a few salesmen, -nervous but hopeful about the possibilities of opening up the -hinterlands; so far, only Memnonia, the Martian capital, had provided -Earthlings with any business.</p> - -<p>In the bow of the spaceship was a crowd of girls, a college graduating -class. Some of them were dressed in the new skin-tight thermosuits -which were stirring up so much fuss in the fashion magazines. Listening -to their ecstatic, senseless chatter, Joyce suddenly felt immensely -older. The day, thirteen months ago, when she first sighted the -Memnonian landscape with her own class, seemed impossibly long ago....</p> - -<p>The ship nestled in against the vast loading ramp. A whistle sounded. -The doors slid open. Husky, bare-chested Martian porters crowded -aboard, began wheeling out the luggage. Joyce stepped out into the -pale sunlight. The clear, thin air tingled at her nostrils, dizzied -her, as she'd known it would till she got used to it. She followed -her porter down the ramp. It seemed to her, in her giddiness, that -Gregrill himself was down there, down at the end of the ramp, bronzed, -bare-armed, coming toward her—</p> - -<p>It <i>was</i> he!</p> - -<p>He had made the two-hundred-mile trip to meet her!</p> - -<p>She began to run. She stumbled, caught herself on somebody's arm, ran -again, plunged against him, lost herself against his big, powerful -chest.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Greg! Greg, you're here!"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" width="356" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>It was a long while before she could pull herself away to look at him. -She had forgotten his strength, the magnificent arch of his chest. He -was wearing a white fiber vest in the traditional style, sleeveless, -cut low in front. His sun-washed skin glowed like polished bronze. The -highlights shone on the strong, high arc of his nose, the ridge of his -cheekbones. His fragile russet antennae swayed like wheat stalks in the -wind.</p> - -<p>There were muttered complaints around her. She was being shoved, -prodded. She'd hardly realized they were standing in the midst of the -swarming passengers.</p> - -<p>"Oh," she laughed tremulously, "let's move. My luggage. Where—oh, -there it is, that man over there with the cart."</p> - -<p>"I will get it," Gregrill said.</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, please."</p> - -<p>But he was already striding away, big and powerful, towering over most -of the Earthlings who were scurrying past. She saw him give something -to the Martian porter, watched him swing the trunk up on his shoulder. -It writhed in her, it devastated her, her father's contemptuous -dismissal—"porters and janitors, that's all they're fit for."</p> - -<p>"Greg, put it down," she said frantically. "I won't have you carrying -it!"</p> - -<p>He smiled at her indulgently. "It is not heavy."</p> - -<p>"I don't want you to," she pleaded.</p> - -<p>"Why do you not want me to?" he asked puzzledly. "Somebody must."</p> - -<p>But how could she say it? How could she discuss it at all? She walked -beside him, dumbly. They went down the ramp to where the aircabs were -loading. An Earthling company had put in all the air transport here; -the Martians themselves had never bothered to develop anything more -advanced than the <i>eshbrug</i>, a lumbering, three-wheeled, sun-powered -vehicle.</p> - -<p>"We shall take the airbus," Gregrill said.</p> - -<p>"Oh, do we have to?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"How else can we go?"</p> - -<p>"Can't we get an <i>eshbrug</i>?"</p> - -<p>He looked at her wonderingly. "To travel three times as long? I am -aware that you are tired—"</p> - -<p>"I'm tired of a lot of things," she blurted. "I'm tired of all the -smooth, cynical, streamlined—Right now, I'd rather walk the whole way -than step into an Earthling airbus."</p> - -<p>He gave an uncertain laugh. "I am not sure that I understand your -meaning."</p> - -<p>"I'll explain it some time."</p> - -<p>But how could she ever? He thought Earthlings were all such noble, -shining, gifted creatures. How could she tell him of the rot at the -heart of so many of them?</p> - -<p>"Come on," she insisted desperately. "Let's find an <i>eshbrug</i>."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The driver let them out at Gregrill's road. Gregrill shouldered the -trunk, and they walked down past the irregular row of red, sunbaked, -dome-shaped houses, each with its big tank in the rear for catching -Mars' meager rainfall. Joyce felt a quickening, a surge of warmth, -when she saw them and the quiet, open-faced people in their doorways, -smiling their shy welcomes. She was coming home.</p> - -<p>She was coming home....</p> - -<p>Gregrill's mother and father were waiting just inside their door. They -opened their arms; they hardly said a word. Joyce ran to them, folded -them against her. She didn't mind the tears.</p> - -<p>She let them lead her into the main room, let them seat her, put -pillows around her. She sat there bathing in their tenderness, their -simple good-heartedness.</p> - -<p>Couldn't everybody see it? Why couldn't her father know it? These were -the best people in the Universe!</p> - -<p>Dinner was an Earthling meal. Joyce had been looking forward to a dish -of <i>mrila</i>, the Martian rice, and <i>krulevak</i>, the white fruit that -tasted like luscious chicken meat. But Gregrill's parents had obviously -felt that their humble foods were too mean for her exalted taste and -they had gone to the expense of bringing in vegetables and meats from -the Earthling import shop in Memnonia.</p> - -<p>Joyce hid her disappointment. She had an impulse to say, "Please, -please don't mimic our Earthling ways. Stay the way you are. Don't -spoil anything. Don't lose what you have."</p> - -<p>After dinner, Gregrill took her for a walk. Joyce had her thermosuit -on now. The Sun was setting, and the startling cold of the Martian -night was coming in fast. Gregrill changed his fiber vest for a sleeved -jacket, though of the same light material. It was incredible how little -protection these people needed against the cold. But, of course, -they'd adapted to it.</p> - -<p>They walked along the edge of the gorge that cut through the stunted -forest half a mile from Gregrill's home. The rough sides of the gorge -rose sheer and splendid, a marvel of glittering color—red, orange, -yellow, brown. Far down on the rocky bed, a shallow stream flowed -sluggishly to the south.</p> - -<p>Soon, as summer came on, the stream would quickly deepen. From the -northern ice fields, a torrent of blue water would come rushing -down the gorges, and the heavy rains would come, and the red ground -underfoot would turn to a miraculous green, and the <i>mrila</i> would -sprout up like a rug of green velvet across the wide fields and the -terraced hills.</p> - -<p>If she could only stay here, if they could only build their lives here -with these simple, good-hearted people....</p> - -<p>But she knew it couldn't be. Gregrill would be wasted here. Earth, -despite all its hatefulness for her, was the only place where his -genius would have a chance to unfold and display its potentialities.</p> - -<p>"It is time that we go back?" Gregrill asked. "You are cold?"</p> - -<p>Suddenly, helplessly, Joyce began to laugh.</p> - -<p>"What is it?" Gregrill said, confused by the sudden laughter.</p> - -<p>"The funny stiff way you talk!" She laughed on and on. She couldn't -stop.</p> - -<p>"I am sorry," he said, turning aside, his face full of hurt.</p> - -<p>"Oh, no!" She caught his arm. "Don't misunderstand. I love the -way you talk. I want you always to talk the way you do now. Don't -change—please don't ever change. I love you just as you are."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Gregrill got his visa five days later. It was a complicated affair. -Joyce had to sign half a dozen affidavits at the Earthling consulate, -all certifying in one way or another that she intended to marry -Gregrill as soon as they reached Earth, and that she guaranteed he -wouldn't become a public charge. It was practically the only way a -Martian had of getting to Earth.</p> - -<p>It infuriated her, this stupid legislation by which Earth denied itself -everything these people could contribute to its culture. A few years -ago, the Earthling government had admitted several thousand Martians to -fill the pressing shortage of menial labor, and had permitted Venusians -to take jobs as room stewards and waiters on the spaceships; and by -that trivial concession, it had felt it was fulfilling its obligations -to the Interplanetary Union.</p> - -<p>When would it learn what its narrow prejudices were costing? Would -it have to wait till someone like Gregrill stepped forward and -demonstrated all the richness it was missing?</p> - -<p>The formal good-bys had been said. The neighbors had held a party for -them. It had been in a clearing behind the houses, out in the clean, -lemon-yellow sunlight. They had eaten roasted <i>trork</i>, the crustacean -delicacy from the northern gorges, and <i>mrila</i> made into candied -patties. Gregrill's mother and father had danced the grave, stately -farewell dance. And now, on their final evening on Mars, Joyce and -Gregrill were taking their last walk along the deep, echoing gorge.</p> - -<p>She had just been watching him finish his packing, and the pain of -it still sat in her throat. He had included his college books—every -one of his texts and notebooks—packing them in so reverently, so -pathetically confident that all he had to do was follow his classroom -precepts, and recognition and success would come tumbling into his -hands....</p> - -<p>"I hope that your parents will like me as well as my parents like you," -Gregrill said.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes," Joyce assured him hoarsely.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps they will not be pleased that you marry a Martian."</p> - -<p>"No, Greg, no. They'll—" But she couldn't carry it on.</p> - -<p>He turned to face her; he looked at her hard. He was starting to speak, -to ask the obvious questions, but she flung herself against him.</p> - -<p>"Greg! Let's get married here! Let's get married before we leave."</p> - -<p>He held her away from him so he could look at her. "But you had wished -to be married on Earth," he said bewilderedly.</p> - -<p>"I know, but I've changed my mind. I want it here, now. Oh, Greg, I'm -afraid...."</p> - -<p>His big russet eyes narrowed, his high-winged nostrils flared, scenting -danger. "You are afraid of what?" he asked quietly.</p> - -<p>"I don't know, Greg. I—I'm just afraid something will happen, -something will go wrong, I don't know what." She couldn't look him in -the eyes. "Let's get married here, in the morning, before we leave. -Then we'll be married.</p> - -<p>"Nothing can go wrong."</p> - -<p>"Will not your parents be angered that you—"</p> - -<p>"No, no, Greg. It'll be all right. This is the best way, believe me."</p> - -<p>"I believe you," he said gravely.</p> - -<p>And it caught her again, his small-boy solemnity. She was caught in a -burst of helpless laughter. "Oh, Greg, I love you!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>They were married by a Martian priest in a small red-draped temple in -Memnonia, not far from the spaceport. The ceremony was without words, -like all religious rites on Mars. The tall, round-bodied priest, a -huge cylinder of a man in heavy ritual fiber robes, stood facing them, -his hands stiff against his sides, his eyes closed, his heavy features -motionless.</p> - -<p>Joyce closed her eyes, too. She strained to hear, feel, sense something -of what was passing between the priest and Gregrill. Surely, if she -strained hard enough, she would catch some echo, some aura. But the air -defied her; she was deaf, blind, insensate; she was cut off irrevocably -from this higher level of communication. Perhaps their children....</p> - -<p>"He is saying the words now," Gregrill whispered in her ear. "You -two together ... comfort each other ... against the darkness and the -drought ... through the long dry misery of winter ... when the water -is locked and nothing grows ... till the glad day of rain and running -streams ... you two together ... comfort each other...."</p> - -<p>"Say yes, my darling," Gregrill told her.</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes! Oh, yes!"</p> - -<p>They were outside, striding exultantly through the sunshine, the light -wind tossing their hair, and the words kept singing to her: "Through -the long dry misery of winter ... till the glad day of rain...."</p> - -<p>Oh, yes, Greg! Yes!</p> - -<p>When they reached the spaceship, their bags had already been taken to -their stateroom, unpacked, the clothing arranged in the dressers—the -meticulous work of the Venusian stewards. Even the bedcovers were -turned down, her nightgown laid out.</p> - -<p>"Greg," she said in a rush of embarrassment, "let's go out and watch -the ... watch how we take off."</p> - -<p>"You go, and I shall join you soon," he said. "I must wash and anoint -myself as a bridegroom."</p> - -<p>Joyce went down the corridor into the observation rotunda. The huge -semicircular window was cluttered with jabbering passengers. She -squeezed in among them, but she stayed only a moment. She pushed -her way back out and went to a table near the head of the corridor, -and waited restlessly for him. Midway down the corridor, a Venusian -steward, a scrawny little gray-skinned, long-beaked fellow, was running -a cleaning machine over the floor. She smiled at him, but he turned his -face shyly away.</p> - -<p>And then Gregrill came, moving up the corridor with his lithe, -magnificent grace.</p> - -<p>His wet hair glistened.</p> - -<p>"Greg, you look wonderful!" she cried, instantly aware of how foolish -she sounded.</p> - -<p>He speeded his steps. He didn't see the cleaning hose in his path. The -Venusian moved quickly to pull it aside, but it caught Gregrill's foot. -He stumbled, caught himself on the corridor rail. Swiftly he turned, -his arm swung out, his forearm slammed against the jaw of the little -Venusian, sending him crashing down against his cleaning machine. -Gregrill looked down at him a moment. Then he turned, gave Joyce a -broad smile and walked to her table.</p> - -<p>"Greg." Her throat was dry. "Why did you do that? He didn't mean it."</p> - -<p>"It is his duty to avoid such accidents," Gregrill said.</p> - -<p>"But look, he's still lying there. Let's go help him."</p> - -<p>"Leave him there," he said. "He is only a Venusian."</p> - -<p>"Only a—?"</p> - -<p>"Venusian." His lips curled. "They are the scum of the Solar System."</p> - -<p>The tremor that went through her was lost in the thrust of the jets as -the ship took off.</p> - -<p>"They are not even fit for cleaning floors," Gregrill said. He suddenly -smiled. "Do you not see the change I have made?" He gestured at his -head.</p> - -<p>Through tear-blinded eyes, she saw his glossy waves of hair. The -antennae were gone!</p> - -<p>"It hurt only a little," he said. "I could not wait until I had them -off. I have been ashamed of them for so long."</p> - -<p>Lord, who was this person she had married? <i>She didn't know him!</i></p> - -<p>"I see that you are still upset," he said. "Please understand that -these Venusians must be kept in their place."</p> - -<p>It was some stranger. She couldn't be married to him. She couldn't!</p> - -<p>"I wonder if I look like an Earthling now," he said. "Tell me, do you -think that I look a little like your father and his friends?"</p> - -<p>She answered him wearily, defeatedly: "Yes, Greg. You do. Exactly."</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Education of a Martian, by Joseph Shallit - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EDUCATION OF A MARTIAN *** - -***** This file should be named 50877-h.htm or 50877-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/8/7/50877/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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/license - - -Title: Education of a Martian - -Author: Joseph Shallit - -Release Date: January 8, 2016 [EBook #50877] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EDUCATION OF A MARTIAN *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - EDUCATION OF A MARTIAN - - By JOSEPH SHALLIT - - Illustrated by EMSH - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Galaxy Science Fiction August 1952. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence - that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - It was for his ideals Joyce loved the alien. - But ideals are conditioned reflexes.... - - -Walter Harley glowered across the room at his daughter. He didn't like -the willful tone that crept into her voice these days; he didn't like -the way her gray eyes spread wide at him, the way her lips tensed, the -way she drew herself up, tall and slim, an arch of determination. The -darned girl had grown up too fast, that was the trouble. - -Joyce faced up to his scowl, shaky as she was. She knew what he was -thinking, because he had told her enough times--she was a headstrong -girl without a brain cell to her name; her college education had been -a waste; worse than that, it had pumped her full of crazy ideas, had -knocked her sense of values upside down. - -"How anybody in their right mind...." he growled at her. "Listen, -you've already been to Mars. You've seen it. What do you want to go to -that miserable, dried-up hole again for?" - -"Because ... because I was happy there," she said tremulously. - -"What? With those miserable savages?" He slapped his euphoria pipe down -on the table. "Ethel, will you listen to that?" - -Joyce's mother, plump and round-shouldered and vague-eyed, was deep in -her reclining chair, the miniature transviewer on her lap, watching a -garden party in Rome. - -"What is it, dear?" she asked unhappily. - -"This crazy girl wants to take her vacation on Mars again." - -"Well ... it _is_ educational," Ethel said. - -Harley made a wild, exasperated sound. "What do you know about it? -You've never been there. It's a dried-up hole, I tell you. It's a -slum--it's one great big slum. Just one decent hotel in the whole -place, and that's only because some of our boys went out there and put -it up for them." - -"That awful hotel--" Joyce caught herself. Not an argument about this, -please! There was trouble enough waiting for her. "I wouldn't stay at -the hotel," she said quietly. - -"What do you mean? Where would you stay?" - -"With some people I know there." - -She saw his heavy eyebrows clench, saw his eyes search her -suspiciously. She heard her mother's uneasy movements. She sat tautly, -her hands in her lap. - -"Who," Harley said finally, "are these people?" - -"Just ... some friends," Joyce said. Now it was coming, now, now. - -"What friends?" Her father's voice was lower, harsher. - -"Just some people I met when I was there last time." - -"Just some.... Say! Is this why we've been running up these solarphone -bills? What've you been doing--talking to these people every week?" - -"Only a few times." - -"Look here. Look at me. Joyce, answer me. Have you been talking to that -fellow you told us about--the one you met on your other trip?" - -She let it out, a tiny, miserable, "Yes." - -Harley's hand slammed down on the table. He wrestled his heavy body -up out of his chair, stamped halfway across the room toward her and -stopped. - -"Young lady, I'm not going to have this. I'm not going to have -anything like this! You hear? You want to get tangled up with him? My -God, you've been communicating with him for a _year_?" - -"Whenever I was able to," Joyce said hoarsely, looking at the floor. - -"Joyce!" He came to her, reached down and lifted her chin. "Joyce, -you're not--you're not in love with this--this creature!" - -She nodded, suddenly angered at her weakness, angered at the wetness in -her eyes. - -"Oh, my God!" Harley raised his arms, brought them down with a slap -against his thighs. He turned away from her. He glared at his wife, who -was drifting nervously up out of her chair. He turned back to Joyce. -"You're not serious. You can't be. This can't--this just can't happen -to us. You'll have to get this foolishness out of your head right now. -Right this minute. My God, the next thing you know, you'll be wanting -to marry one of those things." - -"I do...." The sound barely came out. She swallowed, forced her voice -up. "I am going to marry him." - - * * * * * - -A blast of silence swept the room, but, strangely, the shock of it -didn't touch her. All at once, she was calm, quiet. She had said it, -and now she was armored against everything. - -"No," her father was saying dully. "No, Joyce. No." - -"I'm sorry, Dad," she said all in a rush. "I've thought about it a long -time. I thought I'd forget him after a little while. I wasn't able to. -I'm in love with him--I'll always be in love with him. When I come -back, I'm bringing him with me. We're going to be married here." - -Now, finally, the storm broke out of him. He yelled at her, he stamped -around, his fists pounded the air--it was just as she had pictured it, -dreaded it. Yet she was unshaken now, detachedly able to watch him as -if he were some unruly, unintelligent child. I am going to marry him, -she had said, and once the words were out, everything else was easy. -There were no problems. There was nothing to be afraid of. - -"His name is Gregrill," she said. "They don't have last names. We'll -have to make one up or perhaps use mine." - -"I'll see my daughter dead before I let her marry a Martian!" Harley -roared. - -"But if she really loves him--" Ethel intruded timorously. - -"Loves him? Love that miserable scum?" - -"Dad, please," Joyce said quietly. "You're condemning somebody you've -never seen." - -"I don't have to see him! He's a Martian, isn't he? He has horns, -doesn't he?" - -"They're not horns. They're antennae." - -"Call them what you like, they're horns!" - -"They're antennae, Dad," Joyce repeated firmly. "They're proof of -advanced development. They can communicate with each other hundreds of -miles. They can sense instantly--" - -"I don't want to hear about it!" - -"But, dear," Ethel tried again, "sometimes, when they marry an -Earthling girl, they cut those horns off, and then they look just like -us." - -"I wouldn't let him--" Joyce bit off each word--"do any such thing. I'd -be utterly ashamed of him. I wouldn't marry him if he knuckled under -to our prejudices like that. What does he have to be apologetic about? -He's a superior being--" - -"Superior?" her father howled at her, but his voice was losing its -power. - - * * * * * - -"In spite of our buildings and machines and things, they're far richer -than we are, really. They have such a richness of feeling, such warmth, -such sensitivity. They understand and feel so much more than we do. -It's--it's fantastic. It's just something we can't comprehend." - -"I see," he said bitterly. "And how are you going to comprehend them?" - -"Gregrill can speak Earthling as well as I can," Joyce said. "He's a -graduate of the university there in Memnonia. Maybe, with his guidance, -I'll eventually get some insight into--" - -"My God," Harley said dully. He walked unsteadily away from her and -fell into his chair. "A daughter of mine...." He looked at her again. -"Joyce, can't you see it's impossible? It couldn't work. These mixed -marriages have never worked out. Never! Don't you see how it would be? -You'd be an outcast. None of your friends would ever want to see you -again." - -"Well, if they should happen to be stupid and prejudiced--" - -"_I'm_ that stupid and prejudiced! I wouldn't let a Martian in my -house! They're the scum of the Solar System!" - -"Dad, I won't listen to you talk like that." - -"What do you want to do--be the wife of a janitor?" he went on -relentlessly. "Porters and janitors, that's all they're fit for." - -"If they were ever given a chance--" - -"A chance? What would they do with it? Loaf around dreamily, get -nowhere. Nowhere at all! And pull us down to their level while they're -fouling up our civilization!" - -Joyce stood up, her hands trembling. - -"You're not going to Mars!" Harley shouted. "You're not going, you -hear? You're staying right here on earth!" - -"I'm afraid," she said unsteadily, "that you're too late. I already -have my ticket. I expected you'd make a fuss. My--my trunk is at the -spaceport. Nothing can stop me now, Dad." - -"I'll stop you. You'll never marry that scum. By God, if I have to take -it to the Panterrestrial Court--" - -"Good-by, Dad. I'm not booked to sail till Thursday, but I think -it's better if I spend the remaining days in a hotel. It'll be more -comfortable for all of us." - -"Joyce, come back here!" - -"Good-by, Dad." She waved a shaky hand at her mother. "Good-by, Mom. -See you soon." - -"Joyce! Come back!" - -She went out, quietly closing the door behind her. - - * * * * * - -The huge 1200-passenger spaceship settled down slowly toward the -landing field, its braking jets making a queer whistling sound in the -thin Martian air. The passengers crowded to the windows. Most of them -were already in their thermosuits, though the daylight temperature -was close to fifty degrees. Some were even adjusting their oxygen -packs. These weren't necessary at all, except for long hikes or intense -exertion, which few of the visitors would indulge in. But they'd -bought the things and they were going to use them--it was part of the -adventure. - -Most of the passengers were working people on vacation, taking -advantage of the special two-in-a-room rate. There were a few salesmen, -nervous but hopeful about the possibilities of opening up the -hinterlands; so far, only Memnonia, the Martian capital, had provided -Earthlings with any business. - -In the bow of the spaceship was a crowd of girls, a college graduating -class. Some of them were dressed in the new skin-tight thermosuits -which were stirring up so much fuss in the fashion magazines. Listening -to their ecstatic, senseless chatter, Joyce suddenly felt immensely -older. The day, thirteen months ago, when she first sighted the -Memnonian landscape with her own class, seemed impossibly long ago.... - -The ship nestled in against the vast loading ramp. A whistle sounded. -The doors slid open. Husky, bare-chested Martian porters crowded -aboard, began wheeling out the luggage. Joyce stepped out into the -pale sunlight. The clear, thin air tingled at her nostrils, dizzied -her, as she'd known it would till she got used to it. She followed -her porter down the ramp. It seemed to her, in her giddiness, that -Gregrill himself was down there, down at the end of the ramp, bronzed, -bare-armed, coming toward her-- - -It _was_ he! - -He had made the two-hundred-mile trip to meet her! - -She began to run. She stumbled, caught herself on somebody's arm, ran -again, plunged against him, lost herself against his big, powerful -chest. - -"Oh, Greg! Greg, you're here!" - -It was a long while before she could pull herself away to look at him. -She had forgotten his strength, the magnificent arch of his chest. He -was wearing a white fiber vest in the traditional style, sleeveless, -cut low in front. His sun-washed skin glowed like polished bronze. The -highlights shone on the strong, high arc of his nose, the ridge of his -cheekbones. His fragile russet antennae swayed like wheat stalks in the -wind. - -There were muttered complaints around her. She was being shoved, -prodded. She'd hardly realized they were standing in the midst of the -swarming passengers. - -"Oh," she laughed tremulously, "let's move. My luggage. Where--oh, -there it is, that man over there with the cart." - -"I will get it," Gregrill said. - -"Oh, no, please." - -But he was already striding away, big and powerful, towering over most -of the Earthlings who were scurrying past. She saw him give something -to the Martian porter, watched him swing the trunk up on his shoulder. -It writhed in her, it devastated her, her father's contemptuous -dismissal--"porters and janitors, that's all they're fit for." - -"Greg, put it down," she said frantically. "I won't have you carrying -it!" - -He smiled at her indulgently. "It is not heavy." - -"I don't want you to," she pleaded. - -"Why do you not want me to?" he asked puzzledly. "Somebody must." - -But how could she say it? How could she discuss it at all? She walked -beside him, dumbly. They went down the ramp to where the aircabs were -loading. An Earthling company had put in all the air transport here; -the Martians themselves had never bothered to develop anything more -advanced than the _eshbrug_, a lumbering, three-wheeled, sun-powered -vehicle. - -"We shall take the airbus," Gregrill said. - -"Oh, do we have to?" she asked. - -"How else can we go?" - -"Can't we get an _eshbrug_?" - -He looked at her wonderingly. "To travel three times as long? I am -aware that you are tired--" - -"I'm tired of a lot of things," she blurted. "I'm tired of all the -smooth, cynical, streamlined--Right now, I'd rather walk the whole way -than step into an Earthling airbus." - -He gave an uncertain laugh. "I am not sure that I understand your -meaning." - -"I'll explain it some time." - -But how could she ever? He thought Earthlings were all such noble, -shining, gifted creatures. How could she tell him of the rot at the -heart of so many of them? - -"Come on," she insisted desperately. "Let's find an _eshbrug_." - - * * * * * - -The driver let them out at Gregrill's road. Gregrill shouldered the -trunk, and they walked down past the irregular row of red, sunbaked, -dome-shaped houses, each with its big tank in the rear for catching -Mars' meager rainfall. Joyce felt a quickening, a surge of warmth, -when she saw them and the quiet, open-faced people in their doorways, -smiling their shy welcomes. She was coming home. - -She was coming home.... - -Gregrill's mother and father were waiting just inside their door. They -opened their arms; they hardly said a word. Joyce ran to them, folded -them against her. She didn't mind the tears. - -She let them lead her into the main room, let them seat her, put -pillows around her. She sat there bathing in their tenderness, their -simple good-heartedness. - -Couldn't everybody see it? Why couldn't her father know it? These were -the best people in the Universe! - -Dinner was an Earthling meal. Joyce had been looking forward to a dish -of _mrila_, the Martian rice, and _krulevak_, the white fruit that -tasted like luscious chicken meat. But Gregrill's parents had obviously -felt that their humble foods were too mean for her exalted taste and -they had gone to the expense of bringing in vegetables and meats from -the Earthling import shop in Memnonia. - -Joyce hid her disappointment. She had an impulse to say, "Please, -please don't mimic our Earthling ways. Stay the way you are. Don't -spoil anything. Don't lose what you have." - -After dinner, Gregrill took her for a walk. Joyce had her thermosuit -on now. The Sun was setting, and the startling cold of the Martian -night was coming in fast. Gregrill changed his fiber vest for a sleeved -jacket, though of the same light material. It was incredible how little -protection these people needed against the cold. But, of course, -they'd adapted to it. - -They walked along the edge of the gorge that cut through the stunted -forest half a mile from Gregrill's home. The rough sides of the gorge -rose sheer and splendid, a marvel of glittering color--red, orange, -yellow, brown. Far down on the rocky bed, a shallow stream flowed -sluggishly to the south. - -Soon, as summer came on, the stream would quickly deepen. From the -northern ice fields, a torrent of blue water would come rushing -down the gorges, and the heavy rains would come, and the red ground -underfoot would turn to a miraculous green, and the _mrila_ would -sprout up like a rug of green velvet across the wide fields and the -terraced hills. - -If she could only stay here, if they could only build their lives here -with these simple, good-hearted people.... - -But she knew it couldn't be. Gregrill would be wasted here. Earth, -despite all its hatefulness for her, was the only place where his -genius would have a chance to unfold and display its potentialities. - -"It is time that we go back?" Gregrill asked. "You are cold?" - -Suddenly, helplessly, Joyce began to laugh. - -"What is it?" Gregrill said, confused by the sudden laughter. - -"The funny stiff way you talk!" She laughed on and on. She couldn't -stop. - -"I am sorry," he said, turning aside, his face full of hurt. - -"Oh, no!" She caught his arm. "Don't misunderstand. I love the -way you talk. I want you always to talk the way you do now. Don't -change--please don't ever change. I love you just as you are." - - * * * * * - -Gregrill got his visa five days later. It was a complicated affair. -Joyce had to sign half a dozen affidavits at the Earthling consulate, -all certifying in one way or another that she intended to marry -Gregrill as soon as they reached Earth, and that she guaranteed he -wouldn't become a public charge. It was practically the only way a -Martian had of getting to Earth. - -It infuriated her, this stupid legislation by which Earth denied itself -everything these people could contribute to its culture. A few years -ago, the Earthling government had admitted several thousand Martians to -fill the pressing shortage of menial labor, and had permitted Venusians -to take jobs as room stewards and waiters on the spaceships; and by -that trivial concession, it had felt it was fulfilling its obligations -to the Interplanetary Union. - -When would it learn what its narrow prejudices were costing? Would -it have to wait till someone like Gregrill stepped forward and -demonstrated all the richness it was missing? - -The formal good-bys had been said. The neighbors had held a party for -them. It had been in a clearing behind the houses, out in the clean, -lemon-yellow sunlight. They had eaten roasted _trork_, the crustacean -delicacy from the northern gorges, and _mrila_ made into candied -patties. Gregrill's mother and father had danced the grave, stately -farewell dance. And now, on their final evening on Mars, Joyce and -Gregrill were taking their last walk along the deep, echoing gorge. - -She had just been watching him finish his packing, and the pain of -it still sat in her throat. He had included his college books--every -one of his texts and notebooks--packing them in so reverently, so -pathetically confident that all he had to do was follow his classroom -precepts, and recognition and success would come tumbling into his -hands.... - -"I hope that your parents will like me as well as my parents like you," -Gregrill said. - -"Oh, yes," Joyce assured him hoarsely. - -"Perhaps they will not be pleased that you marry a Martian." - -"No, Greg, no. They'll--" But she couldn't carry it on. - -He turned to face her; he looked at her hard. He was starting to speak, -to ask the obvious questions, but she flung herself against him. - -"Greg! Let's get married here! Let's get married before we leave." - -He held her away from him so he could look at her. "But you had wished -to be married on Earth," he said bewilderedly. - -"I know, but I've changed my mind. I want it here, now. Oh, Greg, I'm -afraid...." - -His big russet eyes narrowed, his high-winged nostrils flared, scenting -danger. "You are afraid of what?" he asked quietly. - -"I don't know, Greg. I--I'm just afraid something will happen, -something will go wrong, I don't know what." She couldn't look him in -the eyes. "Let's get married here, in the morning, before we leave. -Then we'll be married. - -"Nothing can go wrong." - -"Will not your parents be angered that you--" - -"No, no, Greg. It'll be all right. This is the best way, believe me." - -"I believe you," he said gravely. - -And it caught her again, his small-boy solemnity. She was caught in a -burst of helpless laughter. "Oh, Greg, I love you!" - - * * * * * - -They were married by a Martian priest in a small red-draped temple in -Memnonia, not far from the spaceport. The ceremony was without words, -like all religious rites on Mars. The tall, round-bodied priest, a -huge cylinder of a man in heavy ritual fiber robes, stood facing them, -his hands stiff against his sides, his eyes closed, his heavy features -motionless. - -Joyce closed her eyes, too. She strained to hear, feel, sense something -of what was passing between the priest and Gregrill. Surely, if she -strained hard enough, she would catch some echo, some aura. But the air -defied her; she was deaf, blind, insensate; she was cut off irrevocably -from this higher level of communication. Perhaps their children.... - -"He is saying the words now," Gregrill whispered in her ear. "You -two together ... comfort each other ... against the darkness and the -drought ... through the long dry misery of winter ... when the water -is locked and nothing grows ... till the glad day of rain and running -streams ... you two together ... comfort each other...." - -"Say yes, my darling," Gregrill told her. - -"Yes, yes! Oh, yes!" - -They were outside, striding exultantly through the sunshine, the light -wind tossing their hair, and the words kept singing to her: "Through -the long dry misery of winter ... till the glad day of rain...." - -Oh, yes, Greg! Yes! - -When they reached the spaceship, their bags had already been taken to -their stateroom, unpacked, the clothing arranged in the dressers--the -meticulous work of the Venusian stewards. Even the bedcovers were -turned down, her nightgown laid out. - -"Greg," she said in a rush of embarrassment, "let's go out and watch -the ... watch how we take off." - -"You go, and I shall join you soon," he said. "I must wash and anoint -myself as a bridegroom." - -Joyce went down the corridor into the observation rotunda. The huge -semicircular window was cluttered with jabbering passengers. She -squeezed in among them, but she stayed only a moment. She pushed -her way back out and went to a table near the head of the corridor, -and waited restlessly for him. Midway down the corridor, a Venusian -steward, a scrawny little gray-skinned, long-beaked fellow, was running -a cleaning machine over the floor. She smiled at him, but he turned his -face shyly away. - -And then Gregrill came, moving up the corridor with his lithe, -magnificent grace. - -His wet hair glistened. - -"Greg, you look wonderful!" she cried, instantly aware of how foolish -she sounded. - -He speeded his steps. He didn't see the cleaning hose in his path. The -Venusian moved quickly to pull it aside, but it caught Gregrill's foot. -He stumbled, caught himself on the corridor rail. Swiftly he turned, -his arm swung out, his forearm slammed against the jaw of the little -Venusian, sending him crashing down against his cleaning machine. -Gregrill looked down at him a moment. Then he turned, gave Joyce a -broad smile and walked to her table. - -"Greg." Her throat was dry. "Why did you do that? He didn't mean it." - -"It is his duty to avoid such accidents," Gregrill said. - -"But look, he's still lying there. Let's go help him." - -"Leave him there," he said. "He is only a Venusian." - -"Only a--?" - -"Venusian." His lips curled. "They are the scum of the Solar System." - -The tremor that went through her was lost in the thrust of the jets as -the ship took off. - -"They are not even fit for cleaning floors," Gregrill said. He suddenly -smiled. "Do you not see the change I have made?" He gestured at his -head. - -Through tear-blinded eyes, she saw his glossy waves of hair. The -antennae were gone! - -"It hurt only a little," he said. "I could not wait until I had them -off. I have been ashamed of them for so long." - -Lord, who was this person she had married? _She didn't know him!_ - -"I see that you are still upset," he said. "Please understand that -these Venusians must be kept in their place." - -It was some stranger. She couldn't be married to him. She couldn't! - -"I wonder if I look like an Earthling now," he said. "Tell me, do you -think that I look a little like your father and his friends?" - -She answered him wearily, defeatedly: "Yes, Greg. You do. Exactly." - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Education of a Martian, by Joseph Shallit - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EDUCATION OF A MARTIAN *** - -***** This file should be named 50877.txt or 50877.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/8/7/50877/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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