«“Money?” What is “money”?»
«Never mind the philosophy; everybody needs money. I'll talk fast because I can't stay long — it's taken a lot of fixing to get me here. I represent Peerless Features. We'll pay sixty thousand for your story and it won't be a bit of trouble to you — we've got the best ghost writers in the business. You just answer questions; they put it together.» He whipped out a paper. «Just sign this.»
Smith accepted the paper, stared at it, upside down. The man muffled an exclamation. «Lordy! Don't you read English?»
Smith understood this enough to answer. «No.»
«Well — Here, I'll read it, then you put your thumb print in the square and I'll witness it. “I, the undersigned, Valentine Michael Smith, sometimes known as the Man from Mars, do grant and assign to Peerless Features, Limited, all and exclusive rights in my true-fact story to be titled
«Orderly!»
Dr. Frame was in the door; the paper disappeared into the man's clothes. «Coming, sir. I was getting this tray.»
«What were you reading?»
«Nothing.»
«I saw you. This patient is not to be disturbed.» They left; Dr. Frame closed the door behind them. Smith lay motionless for an hour, but try as he might he could not grok it at all.
IV
GILLIAN BOARDMAN was a competent nurse and her hobby was men. She went on duty that day as supervisor of the floor where Smith was. When the grapevine said that the patient in suite K-12 had never seen a woman in his life, she did not believe it. She went to pay a call on the strange patient.
She knew of the «No Female Visitors» rule and, while she did not consider herself to be a visitor, she sailed past without attempting to use the guarded door — marines had a stuffy habit of construing orders literally. Instead she went into the adjacent watch room.
Dr. Thaddeus looked up. «Well, if it ain't “Dimples!” Hi, honey, what brings you here?»
«This is part of my rounds. What about your patient?»
«Don't worry your head, honey chile; he's not your responsibility. See your order book.»
«I read it. I want to look at him.»
«In one word — no.»
«Oh, Tad, don't go regulation.»
He gazed at his nails. «If I let you put your foot inside that door, I'd wind up in Antarctica. I wouldn't want Dr. Nelson even to catch you in this watch room.»
She stood up. «Is Doctor Nelson likely to pop in?»
«Not unless I send for him. He's sleeping off low-gee fatigue.»
«Then what's the idea of being so duty struck?»
«That's all, Nurse.»
«Very well, Doctor!» She added, «Stinker.»
«Jill!»
«A stuffed shirt, too.»
He sighed. «Still okay for Saturday night?»
She shrugged. «I suppose. A girl can't be fussy these days.» She went back to her station, picked up the pass key. She was balked but not beaten, as suite K-12 had a door joining it to the room beyond, a room used as a sitting room when the suite was occupied by a high official. The room was not then in use. She let herself into it. The guards paid no attention, unaware that they had been flanked.
She hesitated at the door between the two rooms, feeling the excitement she used to feel when sneaking out of student nurses' quarters. She unlocked it and looked in.
The patient was in bed, he looked at her as the door opened. Her first impression was that here was a patient too far gone to care. His lack of expression seemed to show the apathy of the desperately ill. Then she saw that his eyes were alive with interest; she wondered if his face was paralyzed?
She assumed her professional manner. «Well, how are we today? Feeling better?»
Smith translated the questions. The inclusion of both of them in the query was confusing; he decided that it might symbolize a wish to cherish and grow close. The second part matched Nelson's speech forms. «Yes,» he answered.
«Good!» Aside from his odd lack of expression she saw nothing strange about him — and if women were unknown to him, he was managing to conceal it. «Is there anything I can do?» She noted that there was no glass on the bedside shelf. «May I get you water?»
Smith spotted at once that this creature was different from the others. He compared what he was seeing with pictures Nelson had shown him on the trip from home to his place — pictures intended to explain a puzzling configuration of this people group. This, then, was «woman.»
He felt both oddly excited and disappointed. He suppressed both in order that he might grok deeply, with such success that Dr. Thaddeus noticed no change in the dials next door.
But when he translated the last query he felt such surge of emotion that he almost let his heartbeat increase. He caught it and chided himself for an undisciplined nestling. Then he checked his translation.
No, he was mistaken. This woman creature had offered him water. It wished to grow closer.
With great effort, scrambling for adequate meanings, he attempted to answer with due ceremoniousness. «I thank you for water. May you always drink deep.»
Nurse Boardman looked startled. «Why, how sweet!» She found a glass, filled it, and handed it to him.
He said, «You drink.»
Wonder if he thinks I'm trying to poison him? she asked herself — but there was a compelling quality to his request. She took a sip, whereupon he took one also, after which he seemed content to sink back, as if he had accomplished something important.
Jill told herself that, as an adventure, this was a fizzle. She said, «Well, if you don't need anything, I must get on with my work.»
She started for the door. He called out, «No!»
She stopped. «Eh?»
«Don't go away.»
«Well…I'll have to go, pretty quickly.» She came back. «Is there anything you want?»
He looked her up and down. «You are … “woman”?»
The question startled Jill Boardman. Her impulse was to answer flippantly. But Smith's grave face and oddly disturbing eyes checked her. She became aware emotionally that the impossible fact about this patient was true; he did not know what a woman was. She answered carefully, «Yes, I am a woman.»
Smith continued to stare. Jill began to be embarrassed. To be looked at by a male she expected, but this was like being examined under a microscope. She stirred. «Well? I look like a woman, don't I?»
«I do not know,» Smith answered slowly. «How does woman look? What makes you woman?»
«Well, for pity's sake!» This conversation was further out of hand than any she had had with a male since her twelfth birthday. «You don't expect me to take off my clothes and show you!»
Smith took time to examine these symbols and try to translate them. The first group he could not grok at all. It might be one of those formal sounds these people used … yet it had been spoken with force, as if it might be a last communication before withdrawal. Perhaps he had so deeply mistaken right conduct in dealing with a woman creature that it might be ready to discorporate.
He did not want the woman to die at that moment, even though it was its right and possibly its obligation. The abrupt change from rapport of water ritual to a situation in which a newly won water brother might be considering withdrawal or discorporation would have thrown him into panic had he not been consciously
