On Mars, humans are busy building pressure chambers for the men and women who will arrive on the next ship.The Martians are helpful, so the progress is faster than expected.Some of the time saved was used to pre-evaluate a long-term project to release oxygen from the Martian sands and change the planet to make it more hospitable for countless generations to come.
For this plan, the spiritual elders neither assist nor hinder; the time is not yet ripe.Their meditations are approaching a critical point of great upheaval, many millennia in the future, where the art of Mars will go.Elections of all kinds on Earth are still going on.A very avant-garde poet published a limited edition of his poems, all punctuated and blank; The Times reviewed the book and suggested that the Daily Record of the Federal Parliament should follow the same format.
Another round of advertising has swept the globe, this time peddling plant sex organs.Mrs. Joseph "The Shadow of a Great Man" Douglas is said to have said: "I would no more sit at a table without flowers than I would sit at a table without napkins." A Sicilian Lemo's Tibetan sage makes a statement in Beverly Hills announcing his newly discovered ancient yoga technique of shallow breathing that dramatically increases spiritual light and sexual attraction; his disciples are required to wear hand-loomed diapers, He read the Rig Veda aloud while an assistant guru checked their wallets in another room—not to mention stealing right away, they would not be so direct.
The President of the United States declared the first Sunday in November to be "National Grandmother's Day" and urged America's grandchildren to greet them with flowers.A chain of funeral homes has been charged with slashing prices.After a secret meeting, the bishops of the Forster Church announced the second major miracle of the church: Archbishop Digby ascended to heaven in the flesh, and was directly promoted to the rank of Archangel. rear.This is great news, but God has not yet confirmed the candidate for the successor archbishop, so the announcement had to be postponed.After drawing lots several times, Boone's clique finally agreed on the result, and the bishop stood out from the candidates.
The Unity and the Today published identical articles denouncing Short's promotion; the Roman Observer and the Christian Monitor ignored it; the Age of India snickered; and Manchester's The Guardian reported the news sternly, without comment—the number of Firsters in England is small, but they are extremely combative.
Digby wasn't happy about being made an Archangel.He was halfway through his work when the visitor from Mars interrupted him.That stupid Short is going to screw up the job.Frost listened to his complaints with the patience of an angel, and then said to him, "Listen, young man, you're an angel now—so forget about it. There's no use complaining and accusing for eternity. You're drugging I was a stupid fool before I died, and I did a good job after that. Short will do well as an archbishop, he can't do better. It's the same with the pope. Some of them were nothing before they were promoted. Neither. Just ask anyone and you’ll know, go for it—there’s no jealousy among colleagues here.”
Digby calmed down, but he made a request.
First shook the halo on his head, "You can't move him. You shouldn't try at all. Oh, of course, if you want to make a fool of yourself, you can also write an application and ask for a miracle. But I tell you, it must Dismissed - you don't understand the system yet. The Martians have their own, unlike ours, and as long as they need him, we can't touch him. It's a multiverse, everyone has their own A share of your work—that's often overlooked by those of you in the field."
"You mean the little rascal pushed me aside as much as I could, and I had to swallow it?"
"I can't bear it too? And I'm still helping you, aren't I? Now listen, we have work to do, a lot of work. The boss doesn't want complaints, he wants performance. If you need a day off to calm down, hide in the Muslim heaven. Or straighten the halo, smooth the wings, and get to work. The quicker you make an angel, the sooner you'll feel like an angel. Be happy, young man..."
Digby took a deep breath of heavenly air. "Well, I'm happy. Where do I begin?"
Jubal did not hear Digby when it was announced that he was missing.When he finally heard the news, he couldn't help being suspicious.But he quickly got it out of his head; maybe Mike had something to do with it, but hadn't he been caught?As long as no one bothered him about it, the whereabouts of the archbishop Jubal did not mind at all.
There was turmoil in his home.Jubal figured out what was going on, but didn't know who the main character was -- and didn't want to.Mike is of legal age, he can protect himself in this kind of thing.Besides, it's about time.
Jubal couldn't deduce the case from the girls' behavior because their pattern of behavior—which was constantly changing—was ABC to D, then BCD to A...or AB to CD, or AC to BD.Anyway, in a word, all the permutations and combinations in which women are divided into various intriguing cliques are used.
This had been going on for about a week since that ill-fated trip, and during that time Mike had been in his room, often completely shut up, in total trance.If he hadn't seen it like this before, Jubal would have declared him dead.Of course, Jubal wouldn't have minded if the house hadn't been messed up.Those girls spent half their time with Mike, sneaking into Mike's room on tiptoe every now and then, "to see if Mike was all right", and didn't even think about cooking, let alone secretary work.Even Annie, who was as reliable as a rock—dammit, Anne was the worst!Absent-minded, tears for no reason... Jubal would have bet his life that even if the great event of the second coming of Christ happened, Anne could remember the date, time, person, event and atmospheric pressure, and those calm blue eyes could not even blink. Won't blink.
Later on Thursday, Mike woke himself up, and the situation immediately became ABCD in Mike's service, "for the dust under his chariot".The girls also resumed their service to Jubal, so he accepted them as soon as they were good, and didn't pursue it... Only one perverted idea kept haunting him: If he asked for a showdown, Mike only needed to send Douglas a postcard, and the girls' wages It would be a five-fold increase in no time, a piece of cake—but even if they had no money, they would still support Mike.
Now that the stability and unity of the family has been restored, Jubal doesn't care about his kingdom being usurped by the prime minister.Meals were punctual and more delicious than ever; the girls were all bright-eyed and cheerful and efficient when he called "shorthand."That being the case, Jubal no longer cares about who can win more supporters, or in other words, female supporters.
Mike's change is also interesting.Before that week, Mike had been so tender that Jubal would have labeled him neurotic; now he was confident.Jubal would have described his attitude as pride if he had not remained the same, with impeccable courtesy and thoughtfulness.
He accepts the girls' submission as if it were his birthright.Now he seems more mature than his age, not younger.His voice became deep, and he was no longer shy when speaking, but full of strength.Jubal then concluded that Mike had joined the ranks of humanity and his patient could be discharged.
Only (Jubbal reminded himself) there was one more problem: Mike still couldn't laugh.He could smile when people were joking, sometimes without asking for an explanation.Mike was jovial, cheery even—but he never laughed.
Jubal felt it was nothing to be nervous about.The patients were sane, healthy—and human.Only a few weeks ago, Jubal thought there was little hope of a cure.He's humble enough to know he doesn't deserve the credit, the credit goes to the girls—or should I say "the girl"?
Almost every day since Mike's first week here, Jubal has said something like this: Mike is always welcome here, but as long as he feels he can handle it, he should go out and see the world.So it shouldn't have surprised Jubal that day when Mike announced at the breakfast table that he was leaving.But he was really surprised.And, much to his own surprise, sad.
He wiped his mouth needlessly with a napkin to hide his emotion. "Oh? When?"
"We're leaving today."
"Um. Plural. Do Larry, Duke, and I have to cook for ourselves?"
"We discussed that," Mike replied. "I need someone to be with me, Jubal; I don't know how people do things yet, and I make mistakes. I should be with Jill, because she wants to keep learning about Mars." But if you can't live without any of the girls, Duke or Larry can stay with me."
"Can I vote too?"
"Jubbal, it's you who decides. We all know that.
(That's probably the first time you've lied, kid. I'm afraid I can't even keep Duke if you really make up your mind.) "I think Jill is the best fit. But listen, boys—here's you s home."
"We know - we'll be back and share the eaux-de-vie again."
"Yes, son."
"Yes, father."
"Uh?"
"Jubbal, there is no word for 'father' in Martian language. But I recently realized that you are my father and Jill's father."
Jubal glances at Jill. "Mmm, I'm enlightened. Take care of yourself."
"Okay. Come on, Jill." Before Jubal could leave the table, they were gone.
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