D. Crackpot letters — pass around any dillies; the rest to a gully.
E. Friendly letters — answer if accompanied by stamped self-addressed envelope, using form letters signed by Jill. (Jubal pointed out that letters signed by the Man from Mars were valuable, and an invitation to more useless mail.)
F. Scatological letters — pass to Jubal (who had a bet with himself that none would show the faintest literary novelty) for disposition, i.e., gully.
G. Proposals of marriage and propositions less formal — file.
H. Letters from scientific and educational institutions — handle as under «E». If answered, use form letter explaining that the Man from Mars was not available for
I. Letters from persons who knew Mike, such as the crew of the
This cut the answers to a few for Jill, seldom even one for Mike. Jill found that she could skim and classify in about one hour each day. The first four categories remained large; category «G» was very large following the stereocast from the Palace, then dwindled. Jubal cautioned Jill that, while Mike should answer letters only from acquaintances, mail addressed to him was his.
The third morning after the system was installed Jill brought a letter, category «G», to Jubal. The ladies and other females (plus misguided males) who supplied this category usually included pictures alleged to be of themselves; some left little to the imagination.
This letter enclosed a picture which left nothing to the imagination, then stimulated fresh imaginings. Jill said, «Look at this, Boss! I ask you!»
Jubal read the letter. «She knows what she wants. What does Mike think?»
«He hasn't seen it.»
Jubal glanced at the picture. «A type which, in my youth, we called “stacked”. Well, her sex is not in doubt, nor her agility. Why show it to
«What should I
«What's on the envelope?»
«Just the address and return address.»
«How does the address read?»
«Huh? “Mr. Valentine Michael Smith, the Man from” — »
«Oh! Then it's not addressed to
«Why, no, of course — »
«Let's get something straight. You are neither Mike's mother nor his chaperon. If Mike wants to read everything addressed to him, including junk mail, he is free to do so.»
«He does read most of those ads. But you don't want him to see filth! He's
«So? How many men has he killed?»
Jill looked unhappy.
Jubal went on: «If you want to help him, you will concentrate on teaching him that killing is frowned on in this society. Otherwise he will be conspicuous when he goes out into the world.»
«Uh, I don't think he wants to “go out into the world”. »
«I'm going to push him out of the nest as soon as he can fly. I shan't make it possible for him to live out his life as an arrested infant. For one thing, I
«I've read about it.»
«Healthiest animals in the world — but they can't leave the laboratory. Child, Mike has got to get acquainted with “filth” — and get immunized. Someday he'll meet the gal who wrote this, or her spiritual sisters — he'll meet her by the hundreds — shucks, with his notoriety and looks he could spend his life skipping from one bed to another. You can't stop it, I can't stop it; it's up to Mike. Furthermore,
«I — » Jill blushed.
«Maybe you don't find them monotonous — none of my business, either way. But if you don't want Mike's feet kicked out from under him by the first five hundred women who get him alone, then don't intercept his mail. Letters like that may put him on guard. Just pass it along in the stack, answer his questions — and try not to blush.»
«Boss, you're infuriating when you're logical!»
«A most uncouth way to argue.»
«I'm going to tear up that picture after Mike has seen it!»
«Oh, don't do that!»
«What? Do
«Heaven forbid! But Duke collects such pictures. If Mike doesn't want it, give it to Duke.»
«
«He is.»
«But — I don't understand.»
Jubal sighed. «I could explain it all day and you still wouldn't. My dear, there are aspects of sex on which it is impossible to communicate between the two sexes of our race. They are sometimes grokked by intuition across the gulf that separates us, by exceptionally gifted individuals. But words are useless. Just believe me: Duke is a perfect knight — and he will like that picture.»
«I won't hand it to Duke myself — he might get ideas.»
«Sissy. Anything startling in the mail?»
«No. The usual crop who want Mike to endorse things, or peddle “Official Man-from-Mars” junk — one character asked for a five-year royalty-free monopoly — and wants Mike to finance it, too.»
«I admire a whole-hearted thief. Tell him that Mike needs tax losses — so how much guarantee would he like?»
«Are you serious, Boss?»
«No, the gonif would show up, with his family. But you've given me an idea for a story.
Mike was interested in the «disgusting» picture. He grokked (theoretically) what the letter and picture symbolized, and studied the picture with the delight with which he studied each butterfly. He found butterflies and women tremendously interesting — all the grokking world was enchanting and he wanted to drink so deep that his own grokking would be perfect.
He understood the mechanical and biological processes being offered in these letters but wondered why strangers wanted his help in quickening eggs? Mike knew (without grokking) that these people made ritual of this necessity, a «growing-closer» somewhat like water ceremony. He was eager to grok it.
But he was not in a hurry, «hurry» he failed to grok. He was sensitive to correct timing — but with Martian approach: timing was accomplished by waiting. He noticed that his human brothers lacked his discrimination of time and often were forced to wait faster than a Martian would — but he did not hold their awkwardness against them; he learned to wait faster to cover their lack — he sometimes waited faster so efficiently that a human would have concluded that he was hurrying at breakneck speed.
He accepted Jill's edict that he was not to reply to these brotherly offers from female humans, but accepted it as a waiting — possibly a century hence would be better; in any case now was not the time since his brother Jill spoke rightly.
Mike agreed when Jill suggested that he give this picture to Duke. He would have anyhow; Mike had seen Duke's collection, looked through it with interest, trying to grok why Duke said, «That one ain't much in the face, but look at those legs —
