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guards invested some sort of order into the gigantic flight, steering the stragglers and
speeding the laggards.
The air was filled with barked orders.
"Hit the shelter, Pop, Better get going. You can't stand there, you know."
Ullen turned to the guard who addressed him and slowly brought his wandering thoughts to
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bear upon the situation.
"I am sorry, Eardman but I cannot move very fast on your huge world." He tapped one
crutch upon the marble flags beneath- "Dings are so heavy. If I were to crowd in wid de rest, I
would be crushed."
He smiled gently down from his lank height, and the guard rubbed a stubbly chin, "All right,
pop, I can fix that. It is tough on you Marsies at that Here, hold those crutches up out of the
way."
With a heave, he cradled the Martian, "Hold your legs" close to my body, because we're
going to travel fast."
His bulky figure pressed through the line of Earthmen. Ullen shut his eyes as the rapid
motion under supernormal gravity stirred his stomach into rebellion. He opened them once
again in the dim recesses of the low-ceilinged shelter.
The guard set him down carefully and adjusted the crutches beneath Ullen's armpits, "O.K.
Pop. Take care of yourself."
Ullen took in his surroundings and hobbled to one of the
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HISTORY
low benches at the near end of the shelter. From behind him came the sombre clang of the
thick, leaden door.
The Martian historian fished a worn tablet from his pocket and scribbled slow notes. He
disregarded the excited babble that arose about him and the scraps of heated talk that filled
the air thickly.
And then he scratched at his furrowed forehead with the stub end of his pencil, meeting the
staring eyes of the man sitting next to him. He smiled abstractedly and returned to his notes.
"You're a Martian, aren't you?" His neighbor spoke in quick, squeaky tones. "I don't like
foreigners much, but I've got nothing special against Marsies. These Veenies, now, they "
Ullen's soft tones interrupted him. "Hate is all wrong, I dink. Dis war is a great
annoyance a great one. It interferes wid my work and you Eardmen ought to stop it. Is it not
so?"
"You can bet your hide we're going to stop it," came the emphatic reply. "We're going to
bash their planet inside out and the dirty Veenies with it."
"You mean attack deir cities like dis?" The Martian blinked owlishly in thought, "You dink dat
would be best?"
"Damn it, yes. It "
"But look." Ullen placed a skeleton finger in one palm and continued in gentle argument.
"Would it not be easier to get de ships demselves by de fall-apart weapon? Don't you dink
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so? Or is it dat de Venus people, dey have de screens?"
"What weapon, did you say?"
Ullen ruminated carefully, "I suppose dat isn't de name you call it by but I don't know about
weapons, anyway. We call it on Mars de 'skellingbeg' and dat means in English 'fall- apart
weapon.' Now you know?"
There was no direct answer unless a vague under-breath mutter could be called one. The
Earthman pushed away from his companion and stared at the opposite wall in a fidget.
Ullen sensed the rebuff and shrugged one shoulder wearily, "It is not dat I care much about
de whole ding. It is only dat de war is a big bodder. It should be ended." He sighed, "But I
don't care!"
His fingers had just begun manipulating the pencil once more in its travels across the open
tablet on his lap, when he looked up again.
"Tell me, please, what is de name of dat country where Hitler died. Your Eard names, dey
are so complicated some- times. I dink it begins wid an M."
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HISTORY
His neighbor ripped him open with a stare and walked away. Ullen's eyes followed him with
a puzzled frown. And then the all-clear signal sounded. "Oh, yes," said UUen. "Madagascar
1 Such a silly name!"
Johnnie Brewster's uniform was war-worn now; a bit more wrinkled about the neck and
shoulders, a trace more worn at knees and elbows.
Ullen ran his finger along the angry scar that ran the length of Johnnie's right fore-arm, "It
hurts no more, John- nie?"
"Nuts! A scratch! I got the Veenie that did that. He's chas- ing dreams in the moon now."
"You were in de hospital long, Johnnie?"
"A week!" He lit a cigarette, pushed some of the mess off the Martian's desk and seated
himself. "I've spent the rest of the time with my family, though I did get around to visit- ing
you, you see."
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