“Both say that they heard a shot. One says that he reached this opening in time to glimpse Agnew past the Martian, who pretty well filled the space between the rocks; they’re so big. And then he didn’t see him. The second man says that when he got there the Martian was just exiting, simply sailed on past them and went his way—which is characteristically Martian; if he has no business with you, he simply ignores you. With the Martian out of the way they could both see the space between the two rocks… and it was a dead end, empty.
“That’s all, gentlemen… except to say that Agnew might have jumped that rock wall, under Mars’ low surface gravity and the impetus of fear—but I could not and I tried—and to mention that these two crewmen were wearing breathing gear—have to, on Mars—and hypoxia can make a man’s senses quite unreliable. I don’t know that the first crewman was drunk through oxygen shortage; I just mention it because it is an explanation easier to believe than what he reported… which is that Agnew simply disappeared in the blink of an eye. In fact I suggested as much to him and ordered him to check the demand valve and the rest of his breather gear before he went outside again.
“You see, I thought Agnew would show up presently… and I was looking forward to chewing him out and slapping him under hack for going armed (if he was) and for going alone (which seemed certain), both being flagrant breaches of discipline.
“But he never returned, we never found him nor his body. I do not know what happened. But my own misgivings about Martians date to that incident. They never again seemed to me to be just big, gentle, harmless, rather comical creatures, even though we never had any trouble with them and they always gave us anything we wanted, once Stinky figured out how to ask for it. I played down the incident—can’t let men panic when you’re a hundred million miles from home. Oh, I couldn’t play down the fact that Dr. Agnew was missing and the whole ship’s company searched for him. But I squelched any suggestion that there had been anything mysterious about it—Agnew had gotten lost among those rocks, had eventually died, no doubt, when his oxygen ran out… and was buried under sand drift or something. You do get quite a breeze both at sunrise and sundown on Mars; it does cause the sand to drift. So I used it as a reason to clamp down ever harder on always traveling in company, always staying in radio contact with the ship, always checking breather gear… with Agnew as a horrible example. I did not tell that crewman to keep his mouth shut; I simply hinted that his story was unbelievable, especially as his mate was not able to back it up. I think the official version prevailed.”
Mahmoud said slowly, “It did with me, Captain—this is the first time I’ve heard that there was any mystery about Agnew. And truthfully, I prefer your ‘official’ version—I’m not inclined to be superstitious.”
Van Tromp nodded. “That’s what I had hoped for. Only Sven and myself heard that crewman’s wild tale—and we kept it to ourselves. But, just the same—” The space ship captain suddenly looked old. “—I still wake up in the night and ask myself:
Jubal listened to the story without comment. He was still wondering what he should add to it when it ended. He wondered, too, if Jill had told Ben about Berquist and that other fellow—Johnson. He knew that he had not. There hadn’t been time the night Ben had been rescued… and in the sober light of the following dawn it had seemed better to let such things ride.
Had the kids told Ben about the battle of the swimming pool? And the two carloads of cops who were missing afterwards? Again, it seemed most unlikely; the kids knew that the “official” version was that the first task force had never showed up—they had all heard his phone call with Douglas. All Jubal’s family were discreet; whether guests or employees, gossipy persons were quickly ousted—Jubal regarded gossip as his own prerogative, solely. But Jill might have told Ben. Well, if she had, she must have bound him to silence; Ben had not mentioned disappearances to Jubal… and he wasn’t trying to catch Jubal’s eye now.
Damn it, the only thing to do was to keep quiet and go on trying to impress on the boy that he simply
Jubal was saved from further soul-searching (and the stag conversation was broken up) by Anne’s arrival. “Boss, that Mr. Bradley is at the door. The one who called himself ‘senior executive assistant to the Secretary General.’”
“You didn’t let him in?”
“No. I looked at him through the one-way and talked to him through the speakie. He says he has papers to deliver to you, personally, and that he will wait for an answer.”