Old Mars

He thought about his father then—he could feel his presence in the stone. They would go out in the field again together after all, just not quite in the way either of them had hoped. And Dave would break the news of his death to Jacky, who would care, and to Beverly, who would perhaps realize that she also cared, because that was what one did for one’s elders. He knew that neither of them would believe that his father lived on in the stone. He didn’t think he would even try to tell them. It was, after all, a private thing between him and his elders.

“Will you work with me?” he said to Rekari.

“That would please me greatly,” said Rekari.

They walked back toward the hole they had dug.

“We should fill that in,” said Dave. “We don’t need it anymore.”

They had left the excavator on the third step from the bottom. Now they dragged it up to the surface, and Dave leaned against it for a moment, looking down the stairway. “You could have shown him lost cities, couldn’t you?” he said. “You and your elders know where they are. Why didn’t you?”

“That was his desire,” said Rekari. “Not mine.”

“But it didn’t matter in the long run. I’m going to do what he would have done.”

“It matters a great deal,” said Rekari, “because as much as I liked and respected your father, he was not a Martian. And you are.”

“Am I?” said Dave. But he didn’t need Rekari to answer that. He already knew, and so did all of the elders in his sunstone.

“Perhaps we can paint a new sign,” said Rekari. “For the new proprietor of the Miller family business.”

Yes, thought Dave. We’ll do that.

Dave Miller, Archaeology. Tour the Ancient Ruins.

Home.

JOE R. LANSDALE