Stranger in a Strange Land

«Mike is utterly civilized, Martian style. Duke, I've talked enough with Mike to know that Martian practice isn't dog-eat-dog … or Martian-eat-Martian. They eat their dead, instead of burying them, or burning them, or exposing them to vultures; but the custom is formalized and deeply religious. A Martian is never butchered against his will. In fact, murder doesn't seem to be a Martian concept. A Martian dies when he decides to, having discussed it with friends and received consent of his ancestors' ghosts to join them. Having decided to die, he does so, as easily as you close your eyes — no violence, no illness, not even an overdose of sleeping pills. One second he is alive and well, the next second he's a ghost. Then his friends eat what he no longer has any use for, “grokking” him, as Mike would say, and praising his virtues as they spread the mustard. The ghost attends the feast; it is a bar mitzvah or confirmation service by which the ghost attains the status of “Old One” — an elder statesman, as I understand it.»

Duke made a face. «God, what superstitious junk!»

«To Mike it's a solemn — but joyful — religious ceremony.»

Duke snorted. «Jubal, you don't believe that stuff about ghosts. It's just cannibalism combined with rank superstition.»

«Well, I wouldn't go that far. I find these “Old Ones” hard to swallow — but Mike speaks of them the way we talk about last Wednesday. As for the rest — Duke, what church were you brought up in?» Duke told him; Jubal went on: «I thought so; in Kansas most people belong to yours or to one enough like it that you have to look at the sign to tell the difference. Tell me — how did you feel when you took part in the symbolic cannibalism that plays so paramount a part in your church's rituals?»

Duke stared. «What the devil do you mean?»

Jubal blinked solemnly back. «Were you a member? Or simply went to Sunday School?»

«Huh? Why, certainly I was a member, I still am — though I don't go much.»

«I thought perhaps you weren't entitled to receive it. Well, you know what I'm talking about if you stop to think.» Jubal stood up. «I shan't argue differences between one form of ritual cannibalism and another. Duke, I can't spend more time trying to shake you loose from prejudice. Are you leaving? If you are, I had better escort you off the place. Or do you want to stay? Stay and eat with the rest of us cannibals?»

Duke frowned. «Reckon I'll stay.»

«I wash my hands of it. You saw those movies; if you're bright enough to pound sand, you've figured out that this man-Martian can be dangerous.»

Duke nodded. «I'm not as stupid as you think, Jubal. But I won't let Mike run me off the place.» He added, «You say he's dangerous. But I'm not going to stir him up. Shucks, Jubal, I like the little dope, most ways.»

«Mmm … damn it, you still underestimate him, Duke. See here, if you feel friendly toward him, the best thing you can do is to offer him a glass of water. Understand me? Become his “water brother”. »

«Uh…I'll think about it.»

«But, Duke, don't fake it. If Mike accepts your offer, he'll be dead serious. He'll trust you utterly, — so don't do it unless you are willing to trust him and stand by him, no matter how rough things get. Either all out — or don't do it.»

«I understood that. That's why I said, “I'll think about it.”»

«Okay. Don't take too long making up your mind … I expect things to get very rough soon.»

XIV

IN LAPUTA, according to Lemuel Gulliver, no person of importance listened or spoke without help of a «climenole» — or «flapper» in English translation, as such servant's duty was to flap the mouth and ears of his master with a bladder whenever,in the opinion of the servant, it was desirable for his master to speak or listen. Without the consent of his flapper it was impossible to converse with any Laputian of the master class.

The flapper system was unknown on Mars. Martian Old Ones would have as little use for flappers as a snake has for shoes. Martians still corporate could have used flappers but did not; the concept ran contrary to their way of living.

A Martian needing a few minutes or years of contemplation simply took it; if a friend wished to speak with him, the friend would wait. With eternity to draw on there could be no reason for hurrying — «hurry» was not a concept in Martian. Speed, velocity, simultaneity, acceleration, and other abstractions of the pattern of eternity were part of Martian mathematics, but not of Martian emotion.

Contrariwise, the unceasing rush of human existence came not from mathematical necessities of time but from the frantic urgency implicit in human sexual bipolarity.