In one arm of a spiral nebula lies a star that some have dubbed "the Sun."Not far from it, another star went nova.Its brilliance will reach Mars after three compensation years (729 Martian years), or 1370 Earth years.The Spirit Elders quickly decided that it would be useful for educating young Martians; meanwhile, the death of the magnificent fifth planet still thrilled them, and there were great aesthetic issues involved, the Spirit Elders Discussion of them has not ceased for a moment.
Elder Ling noticed the departure of the "Victor", but did not make any comments.They kept an eye on the alien brood returning with the ship, but not more than that, because if the enlightenment on this matter is to be fruitful, it must first be patient.The environment of Mars can put naked humans to death, but for humans who stay on Mars, their situation is no worse than that in Antarctic Free State.One of them fell ill with what is sometimes called "homesickness" and eventually collapsed.Elders cherished the traumatized soul and sent it where it needed to be for further healing; otherwise, the Martians never bothered humans.
Nobody on Earth noticed the nova explosion, and human astronomers were still limited by the speed of light.The visitor from Mars made a brief appearance in the news.The minority leader in the Bundestag has called for "a new and bold approach" to combating Southeast Asia's population and food crisis, starting with increased aid for families with five or more children.Mrs. Percy B. S. Suchek is suing Los Angeles city and county officials, claiming five days of temperature inversions killed her pet poodle, and Mrs. Suchek is holding them accountable.Cynthia Dujus announced that she will use scientific methods to select a sperm donor and an equally perfect surrogate mother to give birth to a perfect baby for her. Guaranteed that her child prodigy is equally gifted in music, art and politics); moreover, she also (with the help of hormone therapy) breastfeeds herself.She gave an interview in which she weighed in on the psychological advantages of breastfeeding and allowed (or insisted on) being photographed by the media to demonstrate her ability to feed her children.
Archbishop Digby denounced her as a Babylonian whore, and forbade any Fosterian to take part in the matter, either by donating sperm or acting as a surrogate mother.Lady Agnes Douglas is said to have said: "Although I did not know Miss Dodgers, I cannot but pay tribute to her. She set a heroic example and was an inspiration to all mothers. "
Jubal Harshaw saw a picture of her in a magazine.He posted the picture in the kitchen, only to find that it disappeared after a while, which made him giggle for a while.
He didn't get to smile much that week—the world was too close to him.After it was over, the media didn't bother Mike anymore, but thousands of people still remember him.Douglas tried to guarantee Mike's privacy; Secret Service soldiers patrolled the perimeter of Harshaw's fence, and a Secret Service aerial vehicle hovered over the roof, deterring any vehicles that attempted to land.Harshaw resented that he needed guards.
The call was routed through an answering service, and Harshaw gave them a short list of names he wanted to answer.In addition, most of the time, the telephone in the house was set to "refuse to answer and record messages".
But the letters are always unstoppable.
Harshaw had told Jill that Mike had to grow up; he could start by handling his own mail.She can help him too. "Don't bother me, though; I've had enough psychos writing to me.
Jubal couldn't follow through on that.Jill is overwhelmed with emails.Sorting alone is enough to cause headaches.Jubal called (to no avail) the head of the local post office and Bradley, and the post office got a "suggestion" that it would be better to rank incoming letters by importance.From then on, Mike's mail was divided into one, two, three, four, etc. bags, and everyone else's mail was packed in another bag.Second and third class mail was used to insulate vegetable cellars.Then the cellar was over-walled, and Jubal told Duke to send the mail straight down the gutter.
Fourth-class mail is a bit of a hassle.A package exploded at the town's post office, destroying years of "Wanted" and "Please use the next window" signs.As luck would have it, the head of the post office happened to be out for coffee, and his assistant, an old lady with kidney problems, was in the bathroom.Perhaps, Jubal thought, he should have the package go through an explosion-proof expert first.
Turns out it wasn't necessary; Mike didn't have to open the package to see what was "wrong" inside.After that, the fourth-class mail was left at the gate, with Mike probing from a distance to make any harmful packages disappear; Larry drove the rest into the house.
Mike fell in love with opening packages, even though the contents might not interest him.Throwing all the stuff nobody wanted down the gutter; that included all the food, because Jubal wasn't sure Mike's sense of "wrong" could include poison.At one point, Duke left the toxic solvent he used to develop his photos in the freezer, and Mike only mentioned it later, saying that the cup of "ice tea" had a taste that he wasn't sure he liked.
Jubal told Jill that anything can be left as long as it doesn't cost money, thank you, or send it back to the sender.Some are gifts and more are unsolicited merchandise.Jubal had already decided one thing, though: the unsolicited movable property showed an attempt to take advantage of the visitor from Mars, and as such there was no need to be thankful.
The only exception is domestic animals, and Jubal advises Jill to return the originals unless she promises to take care of them, feed them, and make sure they don't fall into the pool.
First-class mail is the most frustrating.After reading a basket or two, Jubal settled on a category:
1. A begging letter—used as stuffing.
2. Threatening letters—archive, no reply.And then there are letters of this kind from the same source - to the Secret Service.
3. Business "opportunity" - transfer to Douglas.
’, Fantastic Letters—Brilliantly circulated, the rest go to the gutter.
5. A friendly letter - a standard letter signed by Jill if it comes with a stamped envelope with a return address (Jubbal pointed out that letters signed by visitors from Mars are precious and will attract more useless letters).
6. Letters with obscene descriptions - forwarded to Jubal (he made a bet to himself that he would not find one that was creative in literature) for disposal, that is to say, into the gutter.
7. Proposals and other less formal proposals – ignore, file.When attacked by the third wave, use the "2" procedure.
8. Letters from scientific and educational institutions - deal with "5".If you reply, use a standard letter to explain that the visitor from Mars will not participate in any activities; if Jill feels overwhelmed, give it to Jubal.
9. Letters from people who know Mike, such as the crew of the "Victor", the President of the United States, etc. - let Mike reply as he likes; it is good to practice calligraphy, and even better is to practice interpersonal relationships ( If Mike needs advice, let him ask).
That leaves very few emails for Jill to answer, and even fewer for Mike to do it himself.Jill found that it took only an hour a day to skim through and sort the letters.The number of letters in the first four categories has always been astonishing. After it was broadcast on TV in the official residence, there were also a lot of letters in the seventh category, and then gradually decreased.
Jubal reminds Jill that while Mike should only reply to letters from acquaintances, any letter written to him belongs to him.
On the morning of the third day after the system was established, Jill came to Jubal with a seventh-class mail.The ladies and other women (plus some misguided men) who contribute content to this category often include photos purported to be recent photos of themselves;
The photographs in this letter leave no room for the imagination, yet inspire a whole new one.Jill said: "Look at this, boss! Look!"
Jubal read the letter. "She really knows what she wants. What does Mike say?"
"He hasn't seen it yet."
Jubal glanced at the photo, "Well, when I was young, it was called 'sensuality'. Well, her gender is obvious, and her flexibility is fine. Why show me? I've seen more OK."
"What should I do? This letter is bad enough...but this disgusting picture—should I tear it up?"
"What's on the envelope?"
"Only a mailing address and a return address."
"How is the recipient's address written?"
"Eh? 'Mr. Valentine Michael Smith, Mars Comes—'"
"Oh! So it wasn't written for you."
"What, of course not—"
"Let's get this straight. You are neither Mike's mother nor his escort. If Mike is willing to read all letters written to him, including spam, that is his freedom."
"He did read most of the ads. But you don't want him to see the filth! He's so pure."
"Really? How many people has he killed?"
Jill looked unhappy.
Jubal continued: "If you want to help him, you should concentrate on teaching him that killing is not approved in this society. Otherwise, when he enters society, he will be noticed."
"Well, I don't think he wants to 'enter society.'"
"Once he learns to fly, I'm going to push him out of the nest. I'm not going to let him live his whole life like a baby. First of all, I can't... Mike will live many years longer than me .But you're right, Mike is pure. Nurse, have you ever seen the sterile lab at Notre Dame?"
"I read it."
"It has the healthiest animals in the world - the problem is they can never leave that lab. Boy, Mike has to touch the 'dirty' - and develop antibodies. Someday, he'll meet the girl who wrote this, Or her spiritual sister—he'd meet hundreds of her. Pooh, with his name and his face, he could spend his life moving from one bed to another. You can't stop it, I can't stop it; it's up to Mike. Besides, I don't want to stop it, though it's kind of silly to live like that—I mean, keep repeating the same movements all the time. What do you think?"
"I—" Jill blushed.
"Perhaps you don't find it monotonous. It's none of my business what you think. But if you don't want Mike to be tricked by the first five hundred women he meets, then don't block his mail. Such a letter might Puts him on his toes. You just hand it to him among the other letters, answer his questions—and try not to blush."
"Boss, every time you talk about logic, it makes people angry!"
"Logic is the crudest form of argument."
"When Mike sees that picture, I'm going to tear it up!"
"Oh, please don't!"
"What? You want?"
"Jesus, no! But Duke collects pictures like this. If Mike doesn't want it, give it to Duke."
"Duke collecting this crap? What a nice guy he seems."
"He is a good man."
"But—I don't understand."
Jubal sighed, "I could explain it all day and you still wouldn't understand. In our race, my dear, there are certain things about sex that cannot be communicated between the sexes. Sometimes Some exceptionally gifted individuals have intuitively grasped these issues and crossed the chasm that divides us. But words don't help. Just trust me: Duke is the perfect knight—and he'd love that picture."
"I won't hand it over to him, he might think wrong."
"Coward. Anything scary in the mail lately?"
"No. Same old stuff, guys wanting money from Mike, guys peddling 'Official Partners of Visitors from Mars' kind of rubbish schemes - one of them asking for five years of exclusive patents, no royalties, and Mike's money! "
"It's always admirable to be a whole-hearted thief. Tell him Mike's going to have to spend some of the money for tax relief—well, how much does he want?
"Are you serious, boss?"
"No. If I really want to reply to the letter, the rogue will definitely rush over immediately, and he will drag his family with him. But you have given me an inspiration. Shorthand!"
Mike was intrigued by that "disgusting" photo.He had an epiphany (theoretically) about what the letters and photographs symbolized, and studied the photographs with the joy of studying butterflies.He found butterflies and women equally extremely interesting.The world of spiritual comprehension is fascinating, and he wants to drink deeply so that his spiritual comprehension can be perfected.
He could understand the mechanical and biological processes suggested in these letters, but not why the stranger wanted his help to speed up egg production.Mike knew (but didn't realize) that these people had turned this necessary act into a ritual, a "growing closeness" sort of like a water ritual.He yearns for enlightenment.
But he was not in a hurry, he couldn't comprehend the concept of "urgency".He has a sensitivity to timing—a Martian sensitivity: timing comes with waiting.He found that his human brothers lacked this sense of time and were often forced to act rashly, waiting faster than the Martians.But he didn't blame them for their clumsiness; he also learned to wait quickly to cover up their flaws.At times, his acceleration was so effective that it seemed to humans that he was in such a hurry that he might break his neck at any moment.
He accepted Jill's order not to reply to the promise of brotherhood from female humans.He interpreted this as waiting—maybe it would be better to act a century later.His brother Jill was right that now was not the time.
Jill suggested that he send the photo to Duke, and Mike agreed.Even if Jill hadn't spoken, he would have done so.Mike had seen Duke's collection, read it from beginning to end with great interest, and tried to understand Duke's words: "This face is not very good, but look at those two legs—" Mike was very I like to hear my own people call him "brother", but aren't legs just legs?It's just that his compatriots each have three legs, while humans have only two.But, he reminded himself, they weren't crippled by it.
As for the face, Jubal's was the most beautiful face Mike had ever seen, full of personality and distinctive.As for the human women in Duke's collection, it's hard to say that they have faces.All young women's faces are exactly the same - isn't it a matter of course?
He had never had trouble making out Jill's face; she was the first woman he'd seen, and his first female water brother.Mike knew every pore on her nose, every nascent wrinkle on her face, and celebrated them one by one in joyous meditation.He could now tell Anne from Dorcas, Dorcas from Miriam, but not at first.At first, Mike relied on size and color, and voice.Everyone's voice is unique.Of course, sometimes there will be situations where three people are silent at the same time, but fortunately Anne is much bigger, while Dorcas is so small, and Miriam is bigger than Dorcas and smaller than Anne, but even Anne or Dorcas No, not to confuse Miriam with the other, because Miriam has what's called a "red" hair--a color that no one would call a "red" color when used in anything else.
Mike knew that all English words have more than one meaning.You have to get used to that fact, like the girls with the same faces... and besides, after a while, they're not the same anymore.Mike could now picture Anne's face in his mind, counting the pores on her nose as easily as he had done with Jill.In essence, even an egg is a unique individual, different from other eggs at any time and place.So every girl potentially has her own face, no matter how subtle.
Mike sent the photo to Duke, who was warmed by his happiness.Mike had lost nothing in doing so; the picture was in his mind, and he could see it whenever he wanted—even the face, for it radiated an extraordinary expression, a beauty. pain of.
He accepted Duke's thanks and happily returned to his mail pile.Jubal was terribly bored by the avalanche of mail, but Mike was not; he was addicted to it, delighting in both the insurance advert and the marriage proposal.The trip to the Secretary-General's residence opened his eyes, and he found that the world is so rich and colorful, so he decided to enlighten it all.It would take centuries, and he had to grow, grow, grow.But he's in no hurry—he's already had the epiphany that the beautiful, ever-changing present is one and the same as eternity.
He decided not to reread the Encyclopaedia Britannica, and the world came alive in the mail.While the whole house was asleep, he was still reading the letters, what he could get his head around, and the rest in his head for later reflection.He thought he had begun to enlighten on activities such as "business", "buy", "sell" that the Martians did not have - the encyclopedia failed to solve these problems because (he now enlightened why) every article Assuming he already understood those things.
The Secretary, Mr. Joseph Edgerton Douglas, sent a checkbook and some papers; Brother Jubal patiently explained to him the money and its uses, then demonstrated how to write a check, and gave him "money "Come to change that check, and teach him how to count money at the end.But Mike was still at a loss.
Then, suddenly, with a flash of light in his eyes, he achieves a dizzying realization, so that he trembles: he understands the meaning of money.Those pretty pictures and shiny badges weren't really "money," they were symbols, representing an idea that was spreading among these people and in their world.These things are not money in themselves, any more than sharing water is not growing closeness.Money is an idea, as abstract as the thoughts of an old soul; money is a great symbol constructed by human beings, and its meaning lies in balance, healing and growing intimacy.
Its beauty fascinated Mike.
The small-scale circulation, exchange, and return of these symbols are very beautiful, reminding Mike of the games used to encourage the reasoning and growth of nesters.But what really fascinates him is the whole, the whole world reflected in a dynamic symbolic structure.Then Mike realized that the spiritual elders of this race must be very old, otherwise it would be impossible to construct such a beauty.He humbly looks forward to meeting a spiritual elder.
Jill encouraged him to spend it, and Mike spent it with the shy eagerness of a bride being led to the marriage bed.Jubal suggests he "buy some presents for friends," and Jill sets out to help him choose.The first step is to set a limit: one piece per friend, and the sum cannot exceed the reciprocal of a perfect three in the total amount on the account—Mike was going to spend all the money.
He understands how difficult it is to spend money.So much stuff, all wonderful, and equally incomprehensible.Countless catalogs from China, Ginza, Mumbai, and Copenhagen surrounded him, and Mike felt that he was about to be suffocated by this abundance.He couldn't handle the Sears & Montgomery's catalog alone.
Jill was a great help. "No, Duke wouldn't want a tractor."
"Duke loves tractors."
"He already has one, or Jubal has one, just like he owns. He's supposed to like one of those Belgian unicycles, small and cute. He can take it apart and put it back together, and play with it. All day. But even that is too expensive. Mike dear, the gift shouldn't be too expensive, unless you want it to get a girl to marry you or something. The gift should show that you have considered the other person's preferences. Pick that Something that the other person likes, but probably won’t buy.”
"How to choose?"
"That's a question. Wait, I remember, there's something in this morning's letter." She returned shortly afterwards, "Here! Listen: 'Aphrodite Living: A Book of Feminine Beauty Gorgeous book, brilliant dimensional color, photographed by the world's greatest artists. Note: This item is not mailable. Orders from the following states will not be accepted - 'Well, Pennsylvania is on the list, but we'll figure it out. If I knew anything about Duke, he'd like it."
Finally, the stuff arrives in a Secret Service patrol car—and the next ad starts boasting: "This product was specially ordered by the Visitor from Mars."Mike was very happy to read this, Jill was furious.
Jill is stumped choosing a gift for Jubal.Everything he wanted, money could buy, he already had.What else can you give him?The Fountain of Youth that Ponce de Leon failed to find?Or buy some salve for his old bones?Or return him to a day of youth?Neither do pets.Jubal had long since sworn off pets because he would outlive them, or (worse), a pet might die after him and end up orphaned.
They consulted others. "Hell," Duke told them, "don't you know? The boss likes sculpture."
"Really?" Jill replied. "There's nothing in the house."
"His favorites are mostly not for sale. He says crappy ones are a junkyard disaster these days, and any guy with a blowtorch in his hand and a blind eye calls himself a sculptor."
Annie nodded, "Duke is right. Just look at the books in Jubal's study."
Annie picked three of them as evidence, the ones Jubal read most (only she could see) "Mm..." she said, "Rodin's boss likes them all. Mike, if you can get one of them , which one would you choose? This one is pretty, 'Eternal Spring'."
Mike glanced at it, then turned to another page. "this."
"What?" Jill shuddered. "Mike, this is terrible! I'd rather die than be like that."
"It's beautiful," Mike said firmly.
"Mike!" Jill protested, "you've got bad taste—worse than Duke."
Normally, such an accusation would be enough to shut Mike up, especially if it came from Jill's mouth, and he would spend the whole night trying to comprehend what was wrong with him.But he was very confident in himself in this matter.The portraits in the paintings have a sense of home.Even though it depicted a human female, it made him feel like a Martian Elder was there, that he had created it. "It's beautiful," Mike insisted. "She has a face of her own. I'm enlightened."
"Jill," said Anne slowly, "Mike was right."
"Huh? Annie! You don't like that, do you?"
"It scares me. But if you stand the book up and let go, there are always these three places where the pages are opened, which means that Jubal looks at these three places most; and this page is turned more than the other two. More pages. The other one—'The Girl Crouching Under a Rock'—was almost as good, but Mike's choice was Jubal's favorite."
"I'll buy it," Mike said firmly.
Anne called the Rodin Museum in Paris.If the Gauls had not always been courteous to women, they would have laughed out loud.Selling a work by a master?Not only are they not for sale, my dear lady, they are not even allowed to be copied.No, no, no!How fantastic!
However, the impossible becomes possible with a visitor from Mars.Anne called Bradley; heard back two days later.As the French government's tribute to the Martian visitor, Mike will receive a bronze replica of the statue, life-sized and accurate to the microscopic scale.But the other party requested that this gift never be displayed to the public.
Jill helps Mike pick out gifts for the girls again, but when Mike asks what to get her, she insists he buy nothing.
Mike began to realize that while the Water Brothers were always right, sometimes they weren't quite right.He asked Anne for advice.
"That's all she can say to you, honey, but you're going to give her a gift too. Mmm..." Anne's choice baffled Mike.Isn't Jill's taste what Jill should have?
When he got the gift, Mike found it too small and unremarkable, which added to his doubts.Annie also let Mike sniff it first.After smelling it, Mike was more worried than before; the smell was strong and not at all like Jill.
Jill liked the bottle of perfume very much and insisted on giving him a kiss right away.As he kissed, he had an epiphany that this was exactly the gift Jill wanted, and that it had brought them closer.
Jill put on perfume at dinner that night.Mike found that, for some reason, it made Jill smell twice as good, twice as Jill.Stranger still, it made Dorcas come and kiss him too, and whisper in his ear, "Mike dear... pajamas are so cute—but maybe next time you can give me perfume, too?"
Mike couldn't get a sense of why Dorcas wanted the perfume; Dorcas didn't smell like Jill, so the perfume wouldn't suit her... Besides, he didn't want Dorcas to smell like Jill; he wanted Dorcas smells like Dorcas.
Jubal interrupted them: "Stop rubbing on this kid and let him eat well. Dorcas, you smell like a wild cat from a Maasai brothel. Don't coax Mike into sending you any more stinky water."
"Boss, mind your own business."
It's really incomprehensible.Jill could smell more like Jill...and Dorcas, who could smell like herself, wishes to smell like Jill.Also, Jubal even said that Dorcas smelled like a cat.Here is a cat (not a pet, but one of the owners of this house).Sometimes it would come into the house and condescend to accept a little handout.Cat and Mike have mutual epiphanies; Mike finds the carnivore's mind resonant and sparkly.He found out that the cat's name (Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche) was not its real name, but he didn't tell anyone about it, because he couldn't read the cat's real name and could only read it on his own. heard in my head.
Cat smells nothing like Dorcas.
Giving gifts was a great thing and taught Mike the true value of money.But he didn't forget other things that he longed for enlightenment.Jubal had pushed Senator Boone twice without mentioning it to Mike, and Mike hadn't noticed; "next Sunday" wasn't a definite date at all in his sense of time.But the third invitation goes directly to Mike; Archbishop Digby puts a lot of pressure on Boone, and the MP senses that Jubal is putting him off.
Mike took the letter to Jubal. "Huh?" Jubal scowled. "Do you want to go? You don't have to. We can let them go to hell."
The next Sunday morning, a human-driven taxi (Harshaw refuses to trust automated taxis) arrived at Jubal's door and took Mike, Jill, and Jubal to the Archangel Foster Chapel of the Church of the New Revelation.
Notes:
Notes: