“Something terrible will happen in the morning.”
“Nothing can happen, all is well with us.”
A hysterical sobbing.
“It is coming nearer and nearer and nearer!”
“Nothing can happen to us.
What could?
Sleep now.
Sleep.”
It was quiet in the deep morning of Mars, as quiet as a cool and black well, with stars shining in the canal waters, and, breathing in every room, the children curled with their spiders in closed hands, the lovers arm in arm, the moons gone, the torches cold, the stone amphitheaters deserted.
The only sound, just before dawn, was a night watchman, far away down a lonely street, walking along in the darkness, humming a very strange song…
August 1999: THE EARTH MEN
Whoever was knocking at the door didn’t want to stop.
Mrs. Ttt threw the door open.
“Well?”
“You speak English!”
The man standing there was astounded.
“I speak what I speak,” she said.
“It’s wonderful English!”
The man was in uniform.
There were three men with him, in a great hurry, all smiling, all dirty.
“What do you want?” demanded Mrs. Ttt.
“You are a Martian!”
The man smiled.
“The word is not familiar to you, certainly.
It’s an Earth expression.”
He nodded at his then.
“We are from Earth.
I’m Captain Williams.
We’ve landed on Mars within the hour.
Here we are, the Second Expedition!
There was a First Expedition, but we don’t know what happened to it.
But here we are, anyway.
And you are the first Martian we’ve met!”
“Martian?”
Her eyebrows went up.
“What I mean to say is, you live on the fourth planet from the sun.
Correct?”
“Elementary,” she snapped, eyeing them.
“And we” — he pressed his chubby pink hand to his chest — “we are from Earth.
Right, men?”
“Right, sir!” A chorus.
“This is the planet Tyrr,” she said, “if you want to use the proper name.”
“Tyrr, Tyrr.”
The captain laughed exhaustedly.
“What a fine name!
But, my good woman, how is it you speak such perfect English?”
“I’m not speaking, I’m thinking,” she said.
“Telepathy!
Good day!”
And she slammed the door.