Talks aborted.Jubal wanted to get his own people out as soon as possible, but was blocked by the President of the United States and Congressman Boone; it would be good for people to see that they were familiar with Martian visitors, and these two knew it well, and they also realized that All the eyes of the world are on me.
Other politicians like wolves and tigers also surrounded them.
Jubal quickly said: "Mr. President, Senator, let's go to lunch now. Would you like to go together?" He knew very well that it is much easier to deal with two people in private than two dozen people in public. I have to take Mike away as soon as possible, so as not to cause complications.
Fortunately, both of them have other important things to do.But in order to send them away, Jubal had to promise to take Mike to that disgusting first service and promise to accompany him to the White House.Well, if necessary, let the child use illness as an excuse, and he can resist it for a while. "Quick, girls."
Mike was escorted up to the roof, with Annie leading the way, using her height, Valkyrie good looks and dazzling cloak to create a shock wave.Jubal, Ben, and the Victor's crew die.Larry and the Greyhound were waiting for them; a few minutes later the driver took them to the roof of the New Mayflower Hotel.Reporters followed, but the girls escorted Mike to Duke's suite.They seemed to be enjoying the operation; Miriam and Dorcas were ferocious and reminded Jubal of a mother cat protecting her young.One reporter got within three feet, only to get himself kicked in high heels.
They found that not only were Secret Service soldiers patrolling their floor, but an officer was standing outside the suite door.
Jubal's hairs stood on end, but he realized that the presence of these men meant that Douglas had kept their agreement.In the letter submitted before the meeting, Jubal implored Douglas to use his power to protect Mike's privacy so that the hapless boy could live a normal life.
So Jubal yelled, "Jill! Keep Mike under control. It's okay."
"Okay, boss." The officer at the door saluted, and Jubal looked up. "Ah! How are you, Major. Has anyone's gate been smashed lately?"
Broch blushed and didn't make a sound.Perhaps, Jubal thought, the mission was intended to punish him.Duke was waiting for them in the house.Jubal said, "Sit down, gentlemen. How's the situation, Duke?"
Duke shrugged. "No one's bugged since I came in. But boss, anything can be bugged, and you'd have no way of finding it."
"Yes, yes, but that's not what I asked. What I want to know is how the supplies are going. I'm hungry and thirsty, boy, and we've got three more guests."
"Oh, that. I've watched the unloading myself, and it's gone into the pantry. You're naturally suspicious, boss."
"You'd better acquire such a nature, in order to live as long as I do."
"I'm not interested."
"Personal preference. Overall, I've had a pretty good life. Go ahead, girls. Be the first to bring me the drink next time. Shorthand bye. Of course, take care of the guests. Take a seat, please, Gentlemen. What's your favorite poison, Swain? Brandy? Rush out and buy a few bottles, Larry. And some Boss gin for the captain."
"Wait a minute, Jubal," said Nelson, "I'd rather have Scotch."
"Me too." Van Tromp said.
"That's plenty. Enough to drown a horse. Dr. Mahmed? Maybe you prefer soft drinks? I'm sure the girls brought a lot in."
"I shouldn't be tempted by strong drinks," Mahmed said wryly.
"Let me see," Jubal looked him up and down, "Son, I see you've been on your nerves. Since I don't have any diazepam, I'll just prescribe you two ounces of 90-proof ethanol, double it if necessary. Is there any flavor you particularly like?"
Mahmed smiled and said, "Thank you, doctor. You should do your own crimes. Gin, thank you, a glass of water next to it, or vodka. Or anything else."
"Medical alcohol is fine," Nelson added. "Don't let him be fooled, Jubal. This gentleman is called a drunkard, and he will drink everything-and then regret it."
"I do feel remorse," Mahmed said sincerely. "It was a sin."
"Don't stab him, Swain," Jubal said flatly. "If remorse makes the drunk get more out of his crimes, that's his business. Everybody has regrets. How about some food, drunkard? Annie stuffed a ham in the basket—and maybe something else unclean. Shall I go and check?"
Mahmed shook his head. "I'm not a traditionalist, Jubal. The law came from a long time ago, and it addressed the needs of the time. Times have changed."
Jubal suddenly showed a sad expression, "Yes. But is it getting better or worse? Forget it, everything will pass. Eat whatever you want, brother, God will always forgive the daily necessities."
"Thank you. But I usually don't eat at noon."
"You'd better eat some, or ethanol will do more than just relax you. Besides, the kids who work for me, although there are inevitably typos... But when it comes to cooking, all of them are very good. "
Miriam came in with a tray of drinks and poured four glasses amidst Jubal's bombast. "Boss," she interrupted, "would you like to put this sentence in writing?"
"What?" Jubal turned around sharply. "Eavesdrop! Stay after school and copy 'I won't overhear other people's conversations' a thousand times."
"Yes, boss. Here's yours, Captain...and yours, Dr. Nelson...yours, Dr. Mahmed. Did you say to put the water aside?"
"Yes, Miriam. Thank you."
"Harshaw service--so-so, but good speed. It's yours, boss."
"You added water to it!"
"Annie's order. You are too tired, and you may not be able to bear it if you drink pure water."
Jubal looked bitter and vengeful. "Gentlemen, see what has happened to me? We shouldn't have put shoes on them at all. Miriam, write the thousand times in Sanskrit."
"Okay, boss." She patted him on the head. "Go crazy, dear; you earned it. We're all so proud of you."
"Go back to the kitchen, woman. Has everyone got a drink? Where's Ben?"
"It's all there. Ben is on the phone, dictating his column, and the glass is at hand."
"Very well. Now you can retire in peace--call Mike again. Gentlemen! Meke aloha poole!" He raised his glass.The others also drank together.
"Mike helps out in the kitchen. He'll probably be a housekeeper when he grows up."
"I thought you were gone. Whatever he's doing, tell him to come in; Dr. Nelson wants to examine him."
"No hurry," said the ship's doctor. "Jubbal, this scotch is excellent—but what's the toast about?"
"Sorry. Polynesian, 'may our friendship last'. Kind of a footnote to the water ceremony. By the way, gentlemen, Larry and Duke are also Mike's water brothers. But don't worry, they don't They can cook...they're the kind of guys who keep an eye on your back in a dark alley."
"It's enough for you to vouch for them, Jubal." Van Tromp reassured him, "We approve them, and then seal the door. But first, let's have a toast to the girls, Sven, your old sentence How did you say the toast?"
"The one to all the pretty girls? Let's go to the four girls here first. Cheers!" After drinking a drink for the four female water brothers, Nelson asked, "Jubbal, where did you find them?" ?”
"I grow them in my own wine cellar. When I've got them trained, some swindler in the city will come and marry them. I'm doomed to lose my life."
"I can see you've suffered a lot," Nelson said sympathetically.
"Indeed. I believe that all the gentlemen here are married?"
There are two married ones, Mahmed is not yet.Jubal stared at him coldly. "Would you like to be quicker and disintegrate on your own? After lunch, of course, you don't have to go on the road hungry."
"I'm not a threat at all. I'm a permanent bachelor."
"Come on, sir! I've seen Dorcas winking with you...you're meowing with joy."
"I will not be evil, promise." Mahmad wanted to tell Jubal that he would never marry a woman who did not believe in his own religion, but considering that this reason is not convincing to pagans, he had to give up "But, Jubal, don't say that to Mike. He won't get the idea that you're joking, and he might turn into a dead body in front of you on the spot. I don't know if Mike really wants to die. . But he's definitely going to try."
"I'm sure he can," Nelson asserted. "Doctor—Jubbal, have you noticed anything unusual about Mike's metabolism?"
"Well, let's just say I haven't noticed anything normal about his metabolism."
Jubal turned to Mahmed. "Don't worry, I'm not going to invite Mike to commit suicide. I realize he hasn't realized the concept of 'joking'." Jubal winked, "But I haven't realized the concept of 'realization', alcoholic, can you Speak Martian, right?"
"—a little bit."
"You speak fluently, I heard you. Do you understand 'spiritual enlightenment'?"
Mahmed said thoughtfully: "No. 'Spiritual enlightenment' is the most important word in the Martian language. I plan to spend years trying to understand it, but I may not succeed. You must use Only by thinking in the Martian language can you realize the "spiritual enlightenment". Have you noticed that Mike's understanding of certain concepts is very different from that of humans on Earth?"
"Did I notice? My poor head!"
"me too."
"Food!" Jubal announced. "Lunch, it's time! Ladies, put it within our reach, and keep a respectful silence. Go on, Doctor. Or, since Mike's here, we'll talk about it later?" "
"No need." Mahmed said a few words to Mike in Martian.Mike smiled cheerfully, but after answering Mahmed's words, his expression turned blank again, and he ate his food, "I told him what I was going to do, and he asked me to say it correctly; Not an opinion, but a fact, a must. If I'm not right, I hope he'll find out in time and point it out to me. But I'm afraid he won't. Mike thinks in Martian, so he The mental 'map' is not the same as ours. See what I mean?"
"I'm enlightened," Jubal agreed. "Language itself shapes people's basic ideas.
"Yes, but—doctor, do you speak Arabic?"
"What? Bad words," Jubal admitted. "I said it a while ago when I was a military doctor in North Africa. I can still read it now. When I read the words of the Prophet, I prefer to read the original text."
"Exactly. Untranslatable. No matter how hard the translator tries, the 'map' changes. So, you can certainly understand how difficult English is for me. Not only because my mother tongue changes less, but also because' The map' has changed. English is the most complex of human languages; it is so varied, full of nuances and common compound words that make no sense, that it can express meanings that no other language can. It almost takes me Crazy...until I learned to think with it - so I had another blueprint of the world on top of the 'map' I grew up with. Is it better than the old one? I can't tell, but this one is definitely more detailed."
"However, there are still some things that you can express in Arabic that you cannot express in English."
Jubal nodded. "That's why I insisted on reading the original Arabic."
"Yes. But Martian is more complex than English, far more complex, and its way of drawing the universe is quite different. Compared with it, English and Arabic are almost the same language. The English and the Arabs can Learn to think in each other's language, but I don't know if it is really possible for us to think in Martian language. I am afraid that only Mike can do that. Of course, we can learn the Martian language of 'Yangjingbang', That's what I said myself.
"Take 'spiritual enlightenment' as an example. According to my guess, it has a literal meaning, which can be traced back to the beginning of the Martian race as intelligent beings. Knowing this literal meaning is very important for us to understand the whole 'map' 'It is of great benefit. The meaning is very simple.'Lingwu' means 'drink'.
"What?" Jubal said, "Mike never used 'spirit' when he talked about drinking water or something, he—"
"Wait a minute." Mahmed said a few Martian words to Mike.
Mike seemed a little surprised, "'Ling Wu' means drinking."
"However," continued Mahmed, "if I had brought up a hundred other English words, a hundred concepts that are completely different to us, and even opposed to each other, Mike would have agreed as well.' 'Enlightenment' is all of this. It means 'fear', it is 'love', it is 'hate' - according to the Martian 'map', you must first have an insight into a thing before you can rightly hate it; It has to be understood thoroughly first, until it merges in you, you merge in it - then you can hate. Hate it by hating yourself. But that means you love it, cherish it, and besides There is no other emotion for it. After that, you can hate. And (I think) the hatred of Martians is the most complete hatred; Can only be called 'slightly disgusting' at best.
Mahmed frowned. "'Intuition' means 'exactly the same'. Humans often say 'harm to others'. It's a cliché, but it has a bit of Martian flavor. Martians seem to be purely intuitive." Then we understand what we have learned the hard way from modern physics: the observer and the object of observation will interact due to the process of observation. 'Spiritual enlightenment' means a complete and thorough understanding, so that the observer becomes A part of the object of observation—merging, mixing, combining, losing oneself in the experience of a group. It represents almost everything in our religion, philosophy, and science. But, for us, all this means nothing, just It’s as meaningless as color to a color-blind person.” Mahmed paused, “Jubal, if I cut you into pieces and stewed them into a pot, you and the other ingredients in that pot, whatever it is What, we realized each other's spiritual enlightenment. When I eat you, we will also have spiritual enlightenment together, and there will be no leftovers that have not been enlightened. Moreover, it makes no difference who eats who."
"There's a difference for me!" Jubal said firmly.
"You're not a Martian." Mahmed spoke Martian to Mike.
Mike nodded. "You're right, my brother Dr. Mahmed. I've always said you are God."
Mahmed shrugged helplessly, "Do you understand how hopeless this is? It took a long time to spit and only heard one blasphemous sentence. We are not Martians. We can't do it."
"You're God," Mike said cheerfully, "God got it."
"Let's change the subject! Jubal, may I take advantage of your brotherhood and ask for a few more gin?"
"I'll get it!" Dorcas said.
This is a family dinner and the atmosphere is very casual.Jubal was originally casual and informal, and the newcomers are also of the same type-well-educated, well-known, and no longer need to work hard.Even Dr. Mahmed found himself surprisingly at ease.You know, these people did not share with him the only true faith, and refused to submit to the will of God, who is loving and merciful.He was always on the defensive with such people.Fortunately, Jubal also read the Prophet's prophecy, which was very satisfying to him... Besides, once he had a chance to look at it, he soon found that the Jubal women were more plump than he had imagined.The dark one—he pushed the thought out of his mind; he was a guest.
He was pleased to find that the women did not chatter or engage in serious conversations between men, but served wine and food swiftly and with affability.At first he was taken aback by Miriam's disrespect for her master, but he soon understood that it was the privilege of cats and favored children in the company of their own family.
Jubal explained that the only thing to do now is to wait for the Secretary-General's action. "If he is really interested, we will hear the news soon. If he stays in the official residence, he may not be able to resist coming to bargain. We are here, and he has no chance to pester."
"What else is there to bargain for?" asked Captain Van Tromp. "You've given him what he wants."
"Not all of it. Douglas would have preferred an irrevocable mandate...not the present one. If he doesn't behave well, he will have to hand over the reins to someone he hates, the innocent laughing Scumbag, our brother. Others also want to bargain. That kind Bodhisattva, Kong, he hates me to the bone. I just pulled the cushion from under his feet. However, if he If he can come up with any conditions that might lure us, he will come to trade. So we also have to avoid him. We have to do everything we eat and drink ourselves, and this is also thanks to him."
"You're worried about that?" Nelson asked. "Jubbal, I thought you were a fussy gourmand—that's why you started your own business. You'd get poisoned in a restaurant like this? I don't believe it."
Jubal shook his head sadly. "Swain, no one wanted to poison you—but you and Mike shared the same plate, so your wife might still get the life insurance payout."
"You really think so?"
"Swain, you can order room service, anything. But I will never touch it, and I won't allow Mike to touch it. They know where we are and have hours to prepare. So I have to assume All the waiters took advantage of Kong... and maybe two or three others. The only thing that worries me the most at the moment is how to get rid of it before we seal up all the money and power that this child represents. Make sure he lives well."
Jubal frowned. "Think of the Black Widow. A shy little thing, very useful, the prettiest of the spider family: patent-black body, unique hourglass shape. But the poor fellow is out of luck." Well, it’s too small, but the power contained in its body is too great. So no one is willing to give it a way out. Of course, the black widow can’t do anything about it. Not as pretty as Black Widow—”
"What, Jubal!" cried Dorcas indignantly. "Speaking like that is out of place! What nonsense!"
"Son, I don't have the kind of prejudice your gonads cause. Pretty or not, Mike can't get away with that money, and it's not safe to hold it. And it's not just Kong. Let's say Federal Court , advocating 'political neutrality' is not the case at all... Of course, in their style, Mike can't die, he will only be imprisoned. I would say that the end is actually worse. There are many other parties involved, Those who left the job and those who took office have all thought about it in their hearts: If Mike becomes the protagonist of the funeral, how will it affect their fate. I—"
"Call, boss."
"Annie, someone from Pollack is looking for you."
"No, it's from Dallas."
"Anyway, I won't take it."
"She told me to tell you that the person looking for you is Becky."
"Why didn't you say it earlier?" Jubal hurried out of the room and saw Mrs. Vicente's face on the phone screen. "Becky! Nice to meet you, girl."
"Hi, doctor. I saw your show."
"how?"
"The audience is captured in your palm. It's very professional, doctor. It's a great loss to the public speaking business that you didn't have twins."
"That's a very high evaluation, Becky." Jubal's mind was spinning quickly, "But you are the one who directed the play, and I'm just cashing in. Besides, there are many things that can be cashed in. How much should I pay you?" , go ahead, Becky."
Mrs. Vicente frowned. "You broke my heart."
"Becky! Anyone can clap and cheer, but real admiration is only found in a pile of soft green bills. The man from Mars pays the bill, and believe me, he can afford it." Harshaw grinned. "I can do it myself." All you got was a kiss and a hug that broke your ribs."
She relaxed and said with a smile: "I still remember how you slapped my butt when you told me that the professor would definitely get better—it made me feel comfortable all over."
"I'm sure I've never done anything so unprofessional."
"You know you did, and it wasn't in a benevolent way."
"Maybe that's the kind of therapy you needed at the time. I've given up slapping people—but I'm making an exception for you."
"Do you dare to make an exception!"
"And you'd better think of the number quickly, and don't forget to add a few more zeros."
"Doctor, there are many ways to collect fees. You don't have to count the money in a hurry. Have you paid attention to today's stock market?"
"No, don't tell me what's going on in the stock market. How about a drink?"
"Well, let's forget it. I promised, er, a pretty important client, that I'll be on call today."
"Understood. Becky, if you sign the pledge today and do it right after the stock market closes, it may be beneficial to everyone. Does the astrology indicate anything in this regard?"
She was thoughtful, "I will take a good look at the astrology."
"Go ahead. And remember to come and see us. You're going to like that kid. He's eccentric, but he's as sweet as a stolen kiss."
"Well... I'll be here. Thanks, doctor."
They say goodbye to each other.Jubal found that Dr. Nelson had taken Mike to a bedroom for a physical examination.The ship's doctor looked puzzled. "Doctor," Nelson said, "the last time I saw my patient was ten days ago. Tell me, where did he get all those muscles?"
"Oh, he got a coupon from Rust: A Magazine for Majestic Men. You must have seen the ad that showed you how to go from a ninety-pound thing to a—"
"Doctor, please!"
"Why don't you ask him?"
Nelson asked.Mike replied, "I figured it out."
"Yeah," agreed Jubal, 'he' figured it out.When he first got to me—last week—he was a mess, thin, limp, and pale, and he looked like he grew up in some cave—or maybe he was.So I told him to put on some muscle.He grows up. "
"Sports?" Nelson was skeptical.
"Swim a little sometimes."
"He looks like he's been sweating in the gym for years. There's no way he's been swimming for days!" Nelson frowned. "I know Mike can control what's called the 'involuntary muscles'; but that's There are examples. And this one, I really want to think--"
"Doctor," Jubal said gently, "why don't you admit that you can't get enlightenment?"
Nelson sighed. "You're right. Get dressed, Mike."
After some time, Jubal confided his thoughts privately to the three officers of the "Victor". "The financial end isn't really that hard: just tie Mike's purse tight so people know they can't get it. It doesn't matter if Mike dies, because I told Douglas that with Mike's death the escrow is over; but Kong and the others heard a rumor from a usually reliable source—myself—that, it was said, Douglas would assume permanent control as soon as Mike died. Of course, if I I can do magic, and I'll strip that kid clean, and there won't be a dime left. Then—"
"Why, Jubal?" the captain interrupted.
Harshaw stared. "Are you rich, Captain? I mean rich."
"Me?" Van Tromp snorted. "I've got my salary, a pension, a mortgaged house—plus two college daughters. I'd rather Fu Fu Look!"
"You wouldn't like that."
"Ha! You wouldn't say that if you had a school-going daughter, too."
"I put four daughters through college - the debt was up to the armpits at one point. One of them is now a big star in her line of business...she's using her married name because I'm no respectable old beggar The rest remember my birthday and don't usually bother me; education doesn't do them any harm. Saying this is just to prove that what a father usually needs more than he has is quite clear to me. But there must be some The company will pay you many times what you're paid if you'll let them have your name on letterhead. Has anyone mentioned that to you?"
"Impossible," said Captain Van Tromp stiffly, "I'm a professional."
"In other words, money does not make you give up commanding the spacecraft."
"But I wouldn't mind if I had money!"
"It is useless to have a little money. In all common occupations, no matter what you do, your daughter will spend ten per cent more than your salary. It is a law of nature that from now on It'll be called 'Harshaw's Law' from now on. But, Captain, real wealth, and I mean the kind of wealth that requires a bunch of swindlers to help you evade taxes, will definitely keep you from flying again, like quitting your job."
"Nonsense! I can exchange it into a bond, just pay the interest, and fly right away."
"If you were a self-made person, you wouldn't do that. It's easy to make money, and the price of getting rich is just a lifetime of investment. But compared with these people, the most hardworking ballerina looks too much." It's not your style, Captain; you don't want to make money, you just want to spend it."
"Exactly, sir! That's why I don't see why you'd take Mike's fortune."
"Because great wealth is a curse—unless you enjoy making money for its own sake. Even so, it has some serious flaws."
"Oh, nonsense! Jubal, you look like a harem guard trying to sell the benefits of being a eunuch to a sane man."
"Perhaps," agreed Jubal. "The mind's capacity for rationalizing its own inadequacy is almost limitless; I am no exception. I am like you, sir, and only want to spend money, except that I don't have any interest in money other than money, so I can't get rich. On the other hand, it only takes a little money to satisfy my vices, and there is no danger of not getting them, unless it is stupid enough to get it. Only a small pair who keeps taking cards. But what if it is a huge fortune? You have seen the farce. With a slight modification, this lot of spoils will fall into my hands-let me be him The manager and de facto owner of the money, while squeezing the interest on the money into my pocket-do you think there is any way I can trick Douglas into supporting such an outcome? Mike trusts me, I am His water brother. Is there any way I can steal his property?"
"Um...damn it, Jubal, I guess you can do it."
"There is no doubt about it. For our Secretary-General is no more interested in wealth than you are. What drives him is power--and the drum of power is deaf to me. As long as I promise (oh, of course the words are beautiful!) Smith's Wealth will continue to support him in power, and the loot will be mine."
Jubal shuddered. "I thought that was the only way to protect Mike from those vultures—the very thought terrified me. Captain, you don't understand what great wealth is that you can't get rid of. It His master would be assailed in every direction, as besieged by beggars from Bombay. Everyone would come and ask him to invest, and make him a money-boy. He would become paranoid—he would have little chance of honest friendship; People who might become his friends are also very apprehensive, neither wanting to be pushed and shoved by beggars, nor to risk being rowed into a beggar pile by others."
"Worse, his family will never be safe. Captain, has your daughter ever been in danger of being kidnapped?"
"What? God, no!"
"If you had the kind of wealth that was thrown at Mike's head, you'd hire someone to protect your daughters day and night - and even that wouldn't be safe, because you'd never trust their bodyguards completely. Look at this recent A hundred or so kidnappings over a period of time, count how many of them were done by a henchman... and count how many were not ripped off. What money can buy is worth putting a noose around your daughter's neck ?"
Van Tromp said thoughtfully, "I'd better live in the mortgaged house, Jubal."
"Amen. I want to live my own life, sleep in my own bed--and not be bothered by people! But for a while, I thought I had to take care of Mike's business in the last days of my life, with countless buffers Being a barrier, working day and night in an office."
"Later, I suddenly had an inspiration. Douglas was already living in such a barrier, and he already had such a group of men. Since we are willing to give up our rights in exchange for Mike's freedom, why not let Douglas have a headache? It can be regarded as Fair trade. I don't worry about him stealing; only second-rate politicians are greedy, and Douglas is no little man. Don't raise your eyebrows, Ben, and hope he never throws that burden on you."
"So I threw it to Douglas. Now I can finally go back to my garden and enjoy myself. This problem is actually very easy to solve, once you figure it out, everything is very simple. The real trouble is the Larkin ruling."
Ben Caxton said: "I think you're kind of stupid on this, Jubal. They shouldn't be giving Mike the head of state treatment. Whatever rights that ridiculous Larkin theory gives Mike, you just have to make him sign off , isn't it over?"
"Ben, my son," Jubal said softly, "as a reporter, what you write is not at all unreadable."
"Hey, thanks! My fans."
"But your understanding of strategy is still in cavemen's time."
Ben Caxton sighed. "That's a much better line. For a second, I thought your heart had softened."
"If there is such a day, please kill me immediately. Captain, how many people did you leave on Mars?"
"twenty three"
"What is their legal status under Larkin's ruling?"
Van Tromp frowned, "I have no right to talk about this issue."
"Then don't say it," Jubal said, "we can deduce it."
Dr. Nelson said: "Both the drunk and I have been reinstated as civilians, Captain, and I can say what I like—"
"Me too," Mahmed agreed.
"—They could have deducted my retainer commission, I don't care. Why should the government dictate and keep us from talking? Those guys only use their ass to warm chairs, and they are not the ones who go to Mars."
"Come on, Sven. I'll say it, they're our water brothers. But, Ben, I hope it doesn't get in the papers."
"Captain, if you have concerns, I can go and stay with Mike and the girls."
"Please don't go. Let's just say there's a lot of shit going on in the government over that colony. Everyone who lands on Mars signs off on their Larkin rights, relinquishing them to the government. And then it turns out Mike's on Mars. It's complicated. I'm not a lawyer, but I can understand that as long as Mike quits, when it comes to dividends, the government will take the driver's seat and everything will be decided by them."
"What's there to share?" asked Ben Caxton. "You see, Captain, I don't mean to belittle your achievements, but from what I've heard, Mars isn't of much use to humanity." Valuable real estate. Or, is there another asset that we don't know about? The 'reveal it or die' kind of top secret?"
Van Tromp shook his head. "No, all technical reports are declassified. But, Ben, wasn't the moon a big worthless rock when we first arrived?"
"You're right," admitted Ben Caxton, "wish my grandpa bought Luna stock." He added, "but there are people on Mars."
Van Tromp looked a little uncomfortable, "Yes, but—drinker, let's talk about it."
马哈迈德道：“本，火星上还有大块大块的空地可以让人类殖民，而且据我的了解，火星人不会干涉。我们这会儿干的就是摇旗呐喊，要求获得火星的地外法权。但是，还记得学校教室里那些扣在玻璃罩子底下的蚂蚁城市吗？咱们目前的状况没准儿就和它们差不多，根本不知道我们究竟处在什么样的位置上。”
朱巴尔点点头，“我也不知道。我对局势一无所知……只听说政府急着搞到那些所谓的权利。所以我猜政府也是糊里糊涂的只管往前冲，''。”
朱巴尔笑道：“我上中学的时候赢过一次辩论，当时我引用了大英帝国殖民船务局的一个论点，对手无法反驳我——因为大英帝国殖民船务局根本不存在。”
“今天早上我同样厚颜无耻。政府想要迈克的拉金权利，而且生怕咱们跟别的什么人做成这笔交易。所以我利用了他们的贪婪和恐惧，迫使他们从自己异想天开的法律理论里最终得出了一个符合逻辑的谬论，让他们以无可置疑的礼仪承认迈克是一位君主——而且必须得到相应的待遇！”说话时，朱巴尔满脸洋洋得意的神情。
“由此，”本干巴巴地说，“让你自己陷人了一个众人皆知的困境。”
“本，本，”朱巴尔责备地说，“他们给迈克加冕完全是按照他们自己的逻辑。需要我为你指出一个事实吗？尽管戴皇冠的脑袋旁边总有把锯子在晃悠，但公开地当个国王还是比顶着这名头东躲西藏要安全得多。全靠几小节音乐和一张旧床单，迈克的处境已经大有改观。当然，事情仍然很棘手。目前，迈克在拉金判例的法律空话底下成了受到承认的火星统治者……因此有权分发特许状、拿政治权利和领土做交易。令人作呕的恶心事啊。他只有两种选择：要么干这些事，遭受比当个大富豪更加可怕的压力；要么退位，将自己的拉金权利转移给火星上的那些人，也就是说转移给道格拉斯。”
朱巴尔的表情颇为痛苦，“我对这两者都深恶痛绝。先生们，我不能允许我的客户陷入如此可笑的境地。必须证明拉金裁决不能适用于火星，同时又不能让高等法院有机会作出这一裁定。”他咧嘴一笑，“所以我拼命撒谎，脸都说绿了，最后终于创造出一个理论。迈克得到了君主的礼遇；全世界都瞧见了。但这一套礼仪也可以给予统治者的代理，给予他的大使。所以我宣称迈克不是什么纸糊的统治者，他的地位也并非来自那个根本不适用的先例——他是伟大的火星国的大使！”
朱巴尔耸耸肩，“完全是欺诈。不过我之所以敢这么虚张声势，是因为我相信其他人——道格拉斯，还有孔——对事实究竟如何并不比我更有把握。”朱巴尔的目光扫过大家的脸，“还因为你们三个与我们站在一起，你们这些迈克的水弟兄。只要你们没有提出异议，那么迈克的火星大使身份就必定能得到接受——而拉金裁决也就完了。”
“希望如此。”范特龙普船长严肃地说，“但我并不认为你撒了谎，朱巴尔。”
“什么？可我一直都是即兴发挥，拿些花里胡哨的字眼玩点文字游戏而已。”
“这并不重要。我认为你说出了事实。”
“胜利者号”的船长有些迟疑，“只不过我不会把迈克称作大使——说他是人侵者或许更准确些。
本·卡克斯顿的下巴掉了下来。哈肖道：“怎么说，先生？”
范特龙普道：“我订正一下。我认为他是个侦察兵，为他的火星主人前来一探究竟。别误会，我和你们一样喜欢那孩子。但他没有任何理由忠于我们，我是说忠于地球。”船长皱起眉头，“人人都想当然地以为，他一个人在火星上待了那么久，肯定会迫不及待地抓住回'家'的机会。但事实并非如此。对吗，斯温？”
“迈克恨这主意。”纳尔逊附和道，“一开始我们根本没法接近他，他很害怕。后来火星人要他跟我们走……他的举止活像个士兵，鼓足勇气，执行一个把自己吓得魂不附体的命令。”
“等等，”本·卡克斯顿抗议道，“船长——火星入侵我们？火星？那不就跟我们攻打木星一样吗？木星的重力是我们的两倍半，我们的表面重力又是火星的两倍半。压力、温度、大气等方面也有类似的差别。我们没法在木星上生活……我也看不出火星人怎么能忍受这儿的条件。难道不是吗？”
“大致没错。”范特龙普承认。
“那么，我们为什么要进攻木星？火星为什么要进攻我们？”
“本，你读过那些在木星建立一个滩头阵地的提议吗？”
“不过是一纸空话，根本不可行。”
“不多几年前，星际旅行也同样不可行。工程师们计算过，假如用上我们在探索海洋时积累的所有经验，再给人员配备动力服，制服木星是可能的。别以为火星人没我们机灵。你该看看他们的城市。”
“唔——”卡克斯顿说，“好吧，可我还是看不出他们干吗费这份功夫。”
“船长？”
"What's the matter, Jubal?"
“我这里还有一个反对意见。有一种分类法把文明分成'阿波罗式'和'狄厄尼索斯式'，你知道吗？”
“我知道个大概。”
“那，据我看，跟火星人相比，就连祖尼人的文明也会被归成狄厄尼索斯一类。你去过火星，而我一直在与迈克交谈。那孩子是在一个阿波罗文明中长大的，那样的文明不具有进攻性。”
“呣……我可不会把希望放在这上头。”
马哈迈德突然插了进来，“船长，我有证据可以支持朱巴尔。你可以从语言来分析一个文明。火星语里没有'战争'这个词，至少我没发现。也没有'武器'、'战斗'。假如语言里没有一样东西，那么这个文明里肯定从来不存在语言所指示的对象。”
“胡扯，酒鬼！动物也打架——蚂蚁之间就有战争，它们有没有这些词？”
“只要它们是使用语言的种族，”马哈迈德固执己见，“就一定会有。在使用语言的种族里，每个概念都有一个对应的词，一旦发展出新概念就会创造新词语。有能力使用语言的神经系统绝不可能避免语言的使用。假如火星人知道'战争'是什么，他们一定会有这个词。”
“有个法子可以弄清楚，”朱巴尔建议，“叫迈克进来。”
“等等。”范特龙普表示反对，“好多年前我就学会乖了，千万别跟专家争论。但我还学到一件事：历史就是由一长串错得离谱的专家组成的——抱歉，酒鬼。”
“你说得没错，船长，只不过这次我是对的。”
“迈克只能告诉我们他知不知道某个词……这很可能相当于让一个两岁的孩子定义微积分。咱们还是看事实吧。斯温，阿格纽那件事，能说吗？”
纳尔逊回答道：“你作主，船长。”
“唔……既然这里都是水兄弟，好吧。阿格纽中尉是我们的副医官。斯温告诉我，此人才华横溢，但就是受不了火星人。我们登上火星，发现火星人似乎没有恶意，于是我立即下令，禁止佩带武器在火星上行动。”
“阿格纽违背了我的命令。这是事后的推测。但我们一直没能在船上找到他的佩枪，他活着时最后见过他的几个人都说枪在他身上。我的日志上只有这么一行字：“'失踪，推测死亡。 '
“有两个船员看见阿格纽走进两块巨石之间，又看见一个火星人走进了同样的地方。大家都知道他对火星人的古怪偏见，于是他们急忙赶了过去。”
“两人都听到了一声枪响。其中一个说他刚好及时赶到那两块岩石之间，从火星人背后瞥见了阿格纽，然后阿格纽就不见了。第二个说，等他赶到时，只看见火星人自顾自地离开了。火星人一走，他们便看清了石头之间的那块地方……那是条死胡同，里面什么都没有。”
“就是这些，先生们。也许阿格纽跳过了岩石，毕竟火星的重力很小，恐惧的推动力又十分强大。但我试过，办不到。船员们都戴着呼吸装置——在火星上这是必不可少的——而缺氧会让人的感官变得很不可靠。我不敢肯定第一个船员是不是由于缺氧产生了幻觉。我之所以提到氧气，是因为这个解释总比相信他的报告要容易些——阿格纽眨眼间就消失了，这实在难以置信。我觉得他是缺氧了，并且命令他检查他的呼吸装置。
“我以为阿格纽会回来的，还想为了佩带武器的事狠狠训他一顿呢。
“但我们再也没有找到他。我对火星人的疑惧就是从那个事件开始的。他们从没给我们惹过麻烦，等酒鬼弄清怎么交流之后，他们总是有求必应；尽管如此，从那次事件以后，火星人在我眼中再也不仅仅是些温顺无害、有些滑稽的大块头了。我尽量大事化小——总不能让大家在离家上亿英里的地方惊慌失措吧——但我没法掩盖阿格纽医生失踪的事实，船员们到处找过他呀。任何有点神神秘秘的解释都被我压了下去。官方版本是：阿格纽在那些石头之间迷了路，氧气耗尽之后死于缺氧……尸体被沙堆掩埋了。我用这件事给船员施加压力，要他们保证集体行动，保持无线电联系，注意检查呼吸装置。我没有命令那个船员闭嘴，只是暗示说他的故事很可笑，因为他的同伴并没有证实他的说法。我想，官方的版本占了上风。”
马哈迈德缓缓地说：“船长，这是我第一次听说这里头还有什么神秘的地方。但我更喜欢；官方；的说法，我不是个迷信的人。”
范特龙普点点头。“这正是我想要的效果。只有我和斯温听过那个疯狂的故事。但事实是——”船长突然显得十分苍老，“——我会在半夜醒来，问我自己：阿格纽究竟怎么了？”
朱巴尔默不作声地听着。吉尔跟本说起过伯奎斯特和另外那个人吗？有人告诉过本游泳池旁的战斗没有？大概没有；孩子们都知道“官方”的版本是什么：第一个特勤分队从未抵达。他是怎么对道格拉斯说的，大家都听到了。
Damn it!唯一的办法就是保持沉默，同时不停地向那孩子灌输规则：不能让讨厌的陌生人凭空消失！
安妮把朱巴尔从深沉的反省中解救出来，“老板，布拉德利先生在门口。管自己叫'秘书长的高级执行助理'的那个。”
“你没让他进来？”
“没有。我们在对讲机里谈的。他说有文件要递交给你，还说他等你答复。”
“让他从活板塞进来。这里仍然是火星的大使馆。”
“由他在屋外站着？〃“安妮，我知道人家从小就教你对人要和气；可眼前的情况下，蛮横无理才有回报。弄到咱们想要的东西之前，我们寸步不让0”
"Okay, boss."
递进来的口袋被许多拷贝塞得鼓鼓的，文件其实只有一份。
朱巴尔把所有人都叫进来，把文件发给大家。“每发现一个暗门、陷阱或者语义含混的地方，我都奖励一块棒棒糖。”
不久之后，朱巴尔打破了沉默，“他是个诚实的政客——把自己卖了就卖了，没在买卖条款里下什么暗桩。”
“看来是这样。”卡克斯顿承认。
“谁有发现？”没人领赏；道格拉斯只是落实了他们的协议。“好吧，”朱巴尔道，“每个人都为每份副本作证。米丽安，去拿你的图章。该死，叫布拉德利进来，让他也公证——然后请他喝一杯。杜克，告诉前台我们要退房。打电话给灰狗，告诉他们我们要用车了。斯温，船长，酒鬼，咱们要像—样，头也不回地离开这儿……你们干吗不来乡下放松放松呢？有的是床，自己开伙，无忧无虑。”
成了家的男人请求延期；马哈迈德博士接受了邀请。签字很花了些时间，因为迈克喜欢写自己的名字，每个字母都带来了艺术上的成就感。所有副本都签字封存、聚餐剩下的食物打包完毕后，饭店的账单到了。
朱巴尔瞥了眼让人咋舌的总数，在上头写下“同意支付·朱·哈肖代瓦·迈·史密斯”，然后把账单递给布拉德利。
“让你的老板操心去吧。”
布拉德利眨眨眼，“先生？”
“噢，道格拉斯先生大概会把它转给礼宾司。我对这些事没什么经验。”
布拉德利接过账单，“是的，”他慢吞吞地说，“拉许会处理的，我会把它交到他手里。”
“谢谢你，布拉德利先生——为了你所做的一切！”
Notes:
Notes: