keep her from ever coming face to face with the stand-in. She might have noticed the difference. But I had to have a stand-in, as a safeguard. Your mother
might have gone to the office despite the mental block.”
“She’s gone now, father. Why did you send for her?”
“To avoid what she would call a scene, my son. That I could not endure. I had the stand-in summon her on the office telephone, then I withdrew all vitality from it. She will find it quite lifeless. But it does not matter now. When she returns we will be gone.”
“Was constructing the stand-in difficult, father?”
“Not for me, my son. On Mars we have many androids, each constructed to perform a specific task. Some are ingenious beyond belief—or would seem so to Earthmen.”
There was a pause, then the weaker of the two voices said, “I will miss my mother. She tried to make me happy. She tried very hard.”
“You must be brave and strong, my son. We are eagles, you and I. Your mother is a sparrow, gentle and dun-colored. I shall always remember her with tenderness. You want to go with me, don’t you?”
“Yes, father. Oh, yes!”
“Then come, my son. We must hurry. Your mother will be returning any minute now.”
Sally stood motionless, listening to the voices like a spectator sitting before a television screen. A spectator can see as well as hear, and Sally could visualize her son’s pale, eager face so clearly there was no need for her to move forward into the room.
She could not move. And nothing on Earth could have wrenched a tortured cry from her. Grief and shock may paralyze the mind and will, but Sally’s will was not paralyzed.
It was as if the thread of her life had been cut, with only one light left burning. Tommy was that light. He would never change. He would go from her forever. But he would always be her son.
The door of Tommy’s room opened and Tommy and his father came out into the hall. Sally stepped back into shadows and watched them walk quickly down the hall to the stairs, their voices low, hushed. She heard them descend the stairs, their footsteps dwindle, die away into silence …
You’ll see a light, Sally, a great glow lighting up the sky. The ship must be very beautiful. For eight years he labored over it, restoring it with all the shining gifts of skill and feeling at his command. He was calm toward you, but not toward the ship, Sally—the ship which will take him back to Mars!
How is it on Mars, she wondered. My son, Tommy, will become a strong, proud adventurer daring the farthest planet of the farthest star?
You can’t stop a boy from adventuring. Surprise him at his books and you’ll see tropical seas in his eyes, a pearly nautilus, Hong Kong and Valparaiso resplendent in the dawn.
There is no strength quite like the strength of a mother, Sally. Endure it, be brave …
Sally was at the window when it came. A dazzling burst of radiance, starting from the horizon’s rim and spreading across the entire sky. It lit up the cottage and flickered over the lawn, turning rooftops to molten gold and gilding the long line of rolling hills which hemmed in the town.
Brighter it grew and brighter, gilding for a moment even Sally’s bowed head and her image mirrored on the pane. Then, abruptly, it was gone …
Mr. Caxton Draws a Martian Bird
Mr. Caxton was such an impatient, ill-tempered man it was surprising that the children cared to talk to him at all. It was even more surprising that the parents of Peter and Susan Ashley should have gone exploring in the trackless Martian desert, and left Mr. Caxton in charge.
Peter was ten, and Susan was eight, and even on Earth the Mr. Caxtons of this world make very poor companions for the young.
It was true, of course, that Mr. Caxton was skillful with skillets, and knew how to build and bank fires with great precision, and economy of effort. But surely some kindlier guardian could have been found for Peter and Susan, some guardian less harsh, self-centered, and downright mean.
In the rust-red desert camps were gruff, friendly, grizzled-bearded men who would have taken delight in dangling both children on their knees. In the camps were men who would have said: “Hello, Susan! Hello, Tommy! Isn’t it a grand day for hiking? What’s that? You saw a clawmark in the sand? Four-toed? Well now—suppose we go, and have a look.”
“But we really saw it, Mr. Caxton!” Peter insisted. “We’re not making it up. Honest we’re not.”
“Sit down, don’t annoy me!” Mr. Caxton said, throwing another log on the fire. “If you say another word I’ll take you across my knee, and drum some sober sense into you!”
Tommy winced, and recoiled in alarm. But Susan could run, hop or skip a rope, and still know when an adult was bluffing.
“You wouldn’t dare spank Peter,” she said.
“Oh, wouldn’t I?”
Mr. Caxton arose from his crouching position by the fire, and eyed Susan angrily. “You’re a very little girl to talk so big,” he sneered. “Let me tell you something. To me you’re a woman already—a woman in embryo. I can see you twenty years from now, nagging the life out of a man. If I sent you off to bed without your supper I’d be doing your future husband a favor.”
“Just try shutting Peter and me up in the dark again!” Susan warned. “Just try—and see what happens!”
Mr. Caxton bent, and picked up a thin reed switch. He flourished it threateningly.
“Go away,” he growled. “Get out of my sight. Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“Come on,” Peter urged, tugging at his sister’s sleeve. “If he hits me you’ll start crying.”
“I won’t, Peter. I’ll show him.”
“I’d rather take a whipping than see you cry. Do you want me to take a whipping?”
“No, Peter.”
“Then let’s go.”
Peter and Susan turned, and went racing across the hot red sand to the
