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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/32448-h.zip b/32448-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..113f56e --- /dev/null +++ b/32448-h.zip diff --git a/32448-h/32448-h.htm b/32448-h/32448-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b4cdaef --- /dev/null +++ b/32448-h/32448-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1469 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Statue, by Mari Wolf + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; background-color: #FFFFFF; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +.tr {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 2em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: dotted black 1px;} + +.img1 {border:solid 1px; } + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold; font-size:smaller;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-right: 0.25em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Statue, by Mari Wolf + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Statue + +Author: Mari Wolf + +Illustrator: Bob Martin + +Release Date: May 20, 2010 [EBook #32448] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STATUE *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<p class="center">This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction January 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p></div> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img class="img1" src="images/cover.jpg" width="400" height="580" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image_001.jpg" width="400" height="560" alt="I put my arms around her shoulders but there was no +way I could comfort her." title="" /> +<span class="caption">I put my arms around her shoulders but there was no +way I could comfort her.</span> +</div> +<p> </p> +<h1>The STATUE</h1> +<p> </p> +<h2>By Mari Wolf</h2> +<p> </p> +<h3>Illustrated by BOB MARTIN</h3> +<p> </p> +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>There is a time for doing and a time for going home. But +where is home in an ever-changing universe?</i></p></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_l.jpg" alt="L" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>ewis," Martha said. "I want to go home."</p> + +<p>She didn't look at me. I followed her gaze to Earth, rising in the +east.</p> + +<p>It came up over the desert horizon, a clear, bright star at this +distance. Right now it was the Morning Star. It wasn't long before +dawn.</p> + +<p>I looked back at Martha sitting quietly beside me with her shawl drawn +tightly about her knees. She had waited to see it also, of course. It +had become almost a ritual with us these last few years, staying up +night after night to watch the earthrise.</p> + +<p>She didn't say anything more. Even the gentle squeak of her rocking +chair had fallen silent. Only her hands moved. I could see them +trembling where they lay folded in her lap, trembling with emotion and +tiredness and old age. I knew what she was thinking. After seventy +years there can be no secrets.</p> + +<p>We sat on the glassed-in veranda of our Martian home looking up at the +Morning Star. To us it wasn't a point of light. It was the continents +and oceans of Earth, the mountains and meadows and laughing streams of +our childhood. We saw Earth still, though we had lived on Mars for +almost sixty-six years.</p> + +<p>"Lewis," Martha whispered softly. "It's very bright tonight, isn't +it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said.</p> + +<p>"It seems so near."</p> + +<p>She sighed and drew the shawl higher about her waist.</p> + +<p>"Only three months by rocket ship," she said. "We could be back home +in three months, Lewis, if we went out on this week's run."</p> + +<p>I nodded. For years we'd watched the rocket ships streak upward +through the thin Martian atmosphere, and we'd envied the men who so +casually travelled from world to world. But it had been a useless +envy, something of which we rarely spoke.</p> + +<p>Inside our veranda the air was cool and slightly moist. Earth air, +perfumed with the scent of Earth roses. Yet we knew it was only +illusion. Outside, just beyond the glass, the cold night air of Mars +lay thin and alien and smelling of alkali. It seemed to me tonight +that I could smell that ever-dry Martian dust, even here. I sighed, +fumbling for my pipe.</p> + +<p>"Lewis," Martha said, very softly.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" I cupped my hands over the match flame.</p> + +<p>"Nothing. It's just that I wish—I wish we <i>could</i> go home, right +away. Home to Earth. I want to see it again, before we die."</p> + +<p>"We'll go back," I said. "Next year for sure. We'll have enough money +then."</p> + +<p>She sighed. "Next year may be too late."</p> + +<p>I looked over at her, startled. She'd never talked like that before. I +started to protest, but the words died away before I could even speak +them. She was right. Next year might indeed be too late.</p> + +<p>Her work-coarsened hands were thin, too thin, and they never stopped +shaking any more. Her body was a frail shadow of what it had once +been. Even her voice was frail now.</p> + +<p>She was old. We were both old. There wouldn't be many more Martian +summers for us, nor many years of missing Earth.</p> + +<p>"Why can't we go back this year, Lewis?"</p> + +<p>She smiled at me almost apologetically. She knew the reason as well as +I did.</p> + +<p>"We can't," I said. "There's not enough money."</p> + +<p>"There's enough for our tickets."</p> + +<p>I'd explained all that to her before, too. Perhaps she'd forgotten. +Lately I often had to explain things more than once.</p> + +<p>"You can't buy passage unless you have enough extra for insurance, and +travelers' checks, and passport tax. The company has to protect +itself. Unless you're financially responsible, they won't take you on +the ships."</p> + +<p>She shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever have enough."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_w.jpg" alt="W" width="48" height="40" /></div> +<p>e'd saved our money for years, but it was a pitifully small savings. +We weren't rich people who could go down to the spaceport and buy +passage on the rocket ships, no questions asked, no bond required. We +were only farmers, eking our livelihood from the unproductive Martian +soil, only two of the countless little people of the solar system. In +all our lifetime we'd never been able to save enough to go home to +Earth.</p> + +<p>"One more year," I said. "If the crop prices stay up...."</p> + +<p>She smiled, a sad little smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Yes, +Lewis," she said. "One more year."</p> + +<p>But I couldn't stop thinking of what she'd said earlier, nor stop +seeing her thin, tired body. Neither of us was strong any more, but of +the two I was far stronger than she.</p> + +<p>When we'd left Earth she'd been as eager and graceful as a child. We +hadn't been much past childhood then, either of us....</p> + +<p>"Sometimes I wonder why we ever came here," she said.</p> + +<p>"It's been a good life."</p> + +<p>She sighed. "I know. But now that it's nearly over, there's nothing to +hold us here."</p> + +<p>"No," I said. "There's not."</p> + +<p>If we had had children it might have been different. As it was, we +lived surrounded by the children and grandchildren of our friends. Our +friends themselves were dead. One by one they had died, all of those +who came with us on the first colonizing ship to Mars. All of those +who came later, on the second and third ships. Their children were our +neighbors now—and they were Martian born. It wasn't the same.</p> + +<p>She leaned over and pressed my hand. "We'd better go in, Lewis," she +said. "We need our sleep."</p> + +<p>Her eyes were raised again to the green star that was Earth. Watching +her, I knew that I loved her now as much as when we had been young +together. More, really, for we had added years of shared memories. I +wanted so much to give her what she longed for, what we both longed +for. But I couldn't think of any way to do it. Not this year.</p> + +<p>Once, almost seventy years before, I had smiled at the girl who had +just promised to become my wife, and I'd said: "I'll give you the +world, darling. All tied up in pink ribbons."</p> + +<p>I didn't want to think about that now.</p> + +<p>We got up and went into the house and shut the veranda door behind us.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p> couldn't go to sleep. For hours I lay in bed staring up at the +shadowed ceiling, trying to think of some way to raise the money. But +there wasn't any way that I could see. It would be at least eight +months before enough of the greenhouse crops were harvested.</p> + +<p>What would happen, I wondered, if I went to the spaceport and asked +for tickets? If I explained that we couldn't buy insurance, that we +couldn't put up the bond guaranteeing we wouldn't become public +charges back on Earth.... But all the time I wondered I knew the +answer. Rules were rules. They wouldn't be broken especially not for +two old farmers who had long outlived their usefulness and their time.</p> + +<p>Martha sighed in her sleep and turned over. It was light enough now +for me to see her face clearly. She was smiling. But a minute ago she +had been crying, for the tears were still wet on her cheeks.</p> + +<p>Perhaps she was dreaming of Earth again.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, watching her, I didn't care if they laughed at me or +lectured me on my responsibilities to the government as if I were a +senile fool. I was going to the spaceport. I was going to find out if, +somehow, we couldn't go back.</p> + +<p>I got up and dressed and went out, walking softly so as not to awaken +her. But even so she heard me and called out to me.</p> + +<p>"Lewis...."</p> + +<p>I turned at the head of the stairs and looked back into the room.</p> + +<p>"Don't get up, Martha," I said. "I'm going into town."</p> + +<p>"All right, Lewis."</p> + +<p>She relaxed, and a minute later she was asleep again. I tiptoed +downstairs and out the front door to where the trike car was parked, +and started for the village a mile to the west.</p> + +<p>It was desert all the way. Dry, fine red sand that swirled upward in +choking clouds, if you stepped off the pavement into it. The narrow +road cut straight through it, linking the outlying district farms to +the town. The farms themselves were planted in the desert. Small, +glassed-in houses and barns, and large greenhouses roofed with even +more glass, that sheltered the Earth plants and gave them Earth air to +breathe.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_w.jpg" alt="W" width="48" height="40" /></div> +<p>hen I came to the second farmhouse John Emery hurried out to meet me.</p> + +<p>"Morning, Lewis," he said. "Going to town?"</p> + +<p>I shut off the motor and nodded. "I want to catch the early shuttle +plane to the spaceport," I said. "I'm going to the city to buy some +things...."</p> + +<p>I had to lie about it. I didn't want anyone to know we were even +thinking of leaving, at least not until we had our tickets in our +hands.</p> + +<p>"Oh," Emery said. "That's right. I suppose you'll be buying Martha an +anniversary present."</p> + +<p>I stared at him blankly. I couldn't think what anniversary he meant.</p> + +<p>"You'll have been here thirty-five years next week," he said. "That's +a long time, Lewis...."</p> + +<p>Thirty-five years. It took me a minute to realize what he meant. He +was right. That was how long we had been here, in Martian years.</p> + +<p>The others, those who had been born here on Mars, always used the +Martian seasons. We had too, once. But lately we forgot, and counted +in Earth time. It seemed more natural.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute, Lewis," Emery said. "I'll ride into the village with +you. There's plenty of time for you to make your plane."</p> + +<p>I went up on his veranda and sat down and waited for him to get ready. +I leaned back in the swing chair and rocked slowly back and forth, +wondering idly how many times I'd sat here.</p> + +<p>This was old Tom Emery's house. Or had been, until he died eight years +ago. He'd built this swing chair the very first year we'd been on +Mars.</p> + +<p>Now it was young John's. Young? That showed how old we were getting. +John was sixty-three, in Earth years. He'd been born that second +winter, the month the parasites got into the greenhouses....</p> + +<p>He came back out onto the veranda. "Well, I'm ready, Lewis," he said.</p> + +<p>We went down to my trike car and got in.</p> + +<p>"You and Martha ought to get out more," he said. "Jenny's been asking +me why you don't come to call."</p> + +<p>I shrugged. I couldn't tell him we seldom went out because when we +did we were always set apart and treated carefully, like children. He +probably didn't even realize that it was so.</p> + +<p>"Oh," I said. "We like it at home."</p> + +<p>He smiled. "I suppose you do, after thirty-five years."</p> + +<p>I started the motor quickly, and from then on concentrated on my +driving. He didn't say anything more.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p>t took only a few minutes to get to the village, but even so I was +tired. Lately it grew harder and harder to drive, to keep the trike +car on the narrow strip of pavement. I was glad when we pulled up in +the square and got out.</p> + +<p>"I'll walk over to the plane with you," Emery said. "I've got plenty +of time."</p> + +<p>"All right."</p> + +<p>"By the way, Lewis, Jenny and I and some of the neighbors thought we'd +drop over on your anniversary."</p> + +<p>"That's fine," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Come on over."</p> + +<p>"It's a big event," he said. "Deserves a celebration."</p> + +<p>The shuttle plane was just landing. I hurried over to the ticket +window, with him right beside me.</p> + +<p>"I just wanted to be sure you'd be home," he said. "We wouldn't want +you to miss your own party."</p> + +<p>"Party?" I said. "But John—"</p> + +<p>He wouldn't even let me finish protesting.</p> + +<p>"Now don't ask any questions, Lewis. You wouldn't want to spoil the +surprise, would you?"</p> + +<p>He chuckled. "Your plane's loading now. You'd better be going. Thanks +for the ride, Lewis."</p> + +<p>I went across to the plane and got in. I hoped that somehow we +wouldn't have to spend that Martian anniversary being congratulated +and petted and babied. I didn't think Martha could stand it. But there +wasn't any polite way to say no.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p>t wasn't a long trip to the spaceport. In less than an hour the plane +dropped down to the air strip that flanked the rocket field. But it +was like flying from one civilization to another.</p> + +<p>The city was big, almost like an Earth city. There was lots of +traffic, cars and copters and planes. All the bustle of the spaceways +stations.</p> + +<p>But although the city looked like Earth, it smelled as dry and +alkaline as all the rest of Mars.</p> + +<p>I found the ticket office easily enough and went in. The young clerk +barely glanced up at me. "Yes?" he said.</p> + +<p>"I want to inquire about tickets to Earth," I said.</p> + +<p>My hands were sweating, and I could feel my heart pounding too fast +against my ribs. But my voice sounded casual, just the way I wanted it +to sound.</p> + +<p>"Tickets?" the clerk said. "How many?"</p> + +<p>"Two. How much would they cost? Everything included."</p> + +<p>"Forty-two eighty," he said. His voice was still bored. "I could give +them to you for the flight after next. Tourist class, of course...."</p> + +<p>We didn't have that much. We were at least three hundred short.</p> + +<p>"Isn't there any way," I said hesitantly, "that I could get them for +less? I mean, we wouldn't need insurance, would we?"</p> + +<p>He looked up at me for the first time, startled. "You don't mean you +want them for yourself, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Why yes. For me and my wife."</p> + +<p>He shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said flatly. "But that would be +impossible in any case. You're too old."</p> + +<p>He turned away from me and bent over his desk work again.</p> + +<p>The words hung in the air. Too old ... too old ... I clutched the edge +of the desk and steadied myself and forced down the panic I could feel +rising.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean," I said slowly, "that you wouldn't sell us tickets even +if we had the money?"</p> + +<p>He glanced up again, obviously annoyed at my persistence. "That's +right. No passengers over seventy carried without special visas. +Medical precaution."</p> + +<p>I just stood there. This couldn't be happening. Not after all our +years of working and saving and planning for the future. Not go back. +Not even next year. Stay here, because we were old and frail and the +ships wouldn't be bothered with us anyway.</p> + +<p>Martha.... How could I tell her? How could I say, "We can't go home, +Martha. They won't let us."</p> + +<p>I couldn't say it. There had to be some other way.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me," I said to the clerk, "but who should I see about getting +a visa?"</p> + +<p>He swept the stack of papers away with an impatient gesture and +frowned up at me.</p> + +<p>"Over at the colonial office, I suppose," he said. "But it won't do +you any good."</p> + +<p>I could read in his eyes what he thought of me. Of me and all the +other farmers who lived in the outlying districts and raised crops and +seldom came to the city. My clothes were old and provincial and out of +style, and so was I, to him.</p> + +<p>"I'll try it anyway," I said.</p> + +<p>He started to say something, then bit it back and looked away from me +again. I was keeping him from his work. I was just a rude old man +interfering with the operation of the spaceways.</p> + +<p>Slowly I let go of the desk and turned to leave. It was hard to walk. +My knees were trembling, and my whole body shook. It was all I could +do not to cry. It angered me, the quavering in my voice and the +weakness in my legs.</p> + +<p>I went out into the hall and looked for the directory that would point +the way to the colonial office. It wasn't far off.</p> + +<p>I walked out onto the edge of the field and past the Earth rocket, its +silver nose pointed up at the sky. I couldn't bear to look at it for +longer than a minute.</p> + +<p>It was only a few hundred yards to the colonial office, but it seemed +like miles.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="31" height="40" /></div> +<p>his office was larger than the other, and much more comfortable. The +man seated behind the desk seemed friendlier too.</p> + +<p>"May I help you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said slowly. "The man at the ticket office told me to come +here. I wanted to see about getting a permit to go back to Earth...."</p> + +<p>His smile faded. "For yourself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said woodenly. "For myself and my wife."</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr...."</p> + +<p>"Farwell. Lewis Farwell."</p> + +<p>"My name's Duane. Please sit down, won't you?... How old are you, Mr. +Farwell?"</p> + +<p>"Eighty-seven," I said. "In Earth years."</p> + +<p>He frowned. "The regulations say no space travel for people past +seventy, except in certain special cases...."</p> + +<p>I looked down at my hands. They were shaking badly. I knew he could +see them shake, and was judging me as old and weak and unable to stand +the trip. He couldn't know why I was trembling.</p> + +<p>"Please," I whispered. "It wouldn't matter if it hurt us. It's just +that we want to see Earth again. It's been so long...."</p> + +<p>"How long have you been here, Mr. Farwell?" It was merely politeness. +There wasn't any promise in his voice.</p> + +<p>"Sixty-five years." I looked up at him. "Isn't there some way—"</p> + +<p>"Sixty-five years? But that means you must have come here on the first +colonizing ship."</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said. "We did."</p> + +<p>"I can't believe it," he said slowly. "I can't believe I'm actually +looking at one of the pioneers." He shook his head. "I didn't even +know any of them were still on Mars."</p> + +<p>"We're the last ones," I said. "That's the main reason we want to go +back. It's awfully hard staying on when your friends are dead."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_d.jpg" alt="D" width="36" height="40" /></div> +<p>uane got up and crossed the room to the window and looked out over +the rocket field.</p> + +<p>"But what good would it do to go back, Mr. Farwell?" he asked. "Earth +has changed very much in the last sixty-five years."</p> + +<p>He was trying to soften the disappointment. But nothing could. If only +I could make him realize that.</p> + +<p>"I know it's changed," I said. "But it's <i>home</i>. Don't you see? We're +Earthmen still. I guess that never changes. And now that we're old, +we're aliens here."</p> + +<p>"We're all aliens here, Mr. Farwell."</p> + +<p>"No," I said desperately. "Maybe you are. Maybe a lot of the city +people are. But our neighbors were born on Mars. To them Earth is a +legend. A place where their ancestors once lived. It's not real to +them...."</p> + +<p>He turned and crossed the room and came back to me. His smile was +pitying. "If you went back," he said, "you'd find you were a Martian, +too."</p> + +<p>I couldn't reach him. He was friendly and pleasant and he was trying +to make things easier, and it wasn't any use talking. I bent my head +and choked back the sobs I could feel rising in my throat.</p> + +<p>"You've lived a full life," Duane said. "You were one of the pioneers. +I remember reading about your ship when I was a boy, and wishing I'd +been born sooner so that I could have been on it."</p> + +<p>Slowly I raised my head and looked up at him.</p> + +<p>"Please," I said. "I know that. I'm glad we came here. If we had our +lives to live over, we'd come again. We'd go through all the +hardships of those first few years, and enjoy them just as much. We'd +be just as thrilled over proving that it's possible to farm a world +like this, where it's always freezing and the air is thin and nothing +will grow outside the greenhouses. You don't need to tell me what +we've done, or what we've gotten out of it. We know. We've had a +wonderful life here."</p> + +<p>"But you still want to go back?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said. "We still want to go back. We're tired of living in the +past, with our friends dead and nothing to do except remember."</p> + +<p>He looked at me for a long moment. Then he said slowly, "You realize, +don't you, that if you went back to Earth you'd have to stay there? +You couldn't return to Mars...."</p> + +<p>"I realize that," I said. "That's what we want. We want to die at +home. On Earth."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_f.jpg" alt="F" width="33" height="40" /></div> +<p>or a long, long moment his eyes never left mine. Then, slowly, he sat +down at his desk and reached for a pen.</p> + +<p>"All right, Mr. Farwell," he said. "I'll give you a visa."</p> + +<p>I couldn't believe it. I stared at him, sure that I'd misunderstood.</p> + +<p>"Sixty-five years...." He shook his head. "I only hope I'm doing the +right thing. I hope you won't regret this."</p> + +<p>"We won't," I whispered.</p> + +<p>Then I remembered that we were still short of money. That that was why +I'd come to the spaceport originally. I was almost afraid to mention +it, for fear I'd lose everything.</p> + +<p>"Is there—is there some way we could be excused from the insurance?" +I said. "So we could go back this year? We're three hundred short."</p> + +<p>He smiled. It was a very reassuring smile. "You don't need to worry +about the money," he said. "The colonial office can take care of that. +After all, we owe your generation a great debt, Mr. Farwell. A +passport tax and the fare to Earth are little enough to pay for a +planet."</p> + +<p>I didn't quite understand him, but that didn't matter. The only thing +that mattered was that we were going home. Back to Earth. I could see +Martha's face when I told her. I could see her tears of happiness....</p> + +<p>There were tears on my own cheeks, but I wasn't ashamed of them now.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Farwell," Duane said. "You go back home. The shuttle ship will be +leaving in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>"You mean that—" I started.</p> + +<p>He nodded. "I'll get your tickets for you. On the first ship I can. +Just leave it to me."</p> + +<p>"It's too much trouble," I protested.</p> + +<p>"No it's not." He smiled. "Besides, I'd like to bring them out to you. +I'd like to see your farm, if I may."</p> + +<p>Then I remembered what John Emery had said this morning about our +anniversary. It would be a wonderful celebration, now that there was +something to celebrate. We could even save our announcement that we +were going home until then.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Duane," I said. "Next week, on the tenth, we'll have been here +thirty-five Martian years. Maybe you'd like to come out then. I guess +our neighbors will be giving us a sort of party."</p> + +<p>He laid the pen down and looked at me very intently. "They don't know +you're planning to leave yet, do they?"</p> + +<p>"No. We'll wait and tell them then."</p> + +<p>Duane nodded slowly. "I'll be there," he promised.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_m.jpg" alt="M" width="42" height="40" /></div> +<p>artha was out on the veranda again, looking down the road toward the +village. All afternoon at least one of us had been out there watching +for our guests, waiting for our anniversary celebration to begin.</p> + +<p>"Do you see anyone yet?" I called.</p> + +<p>"No," she said. "Not yet...."</p> + +<p>I looked around the room hoping I'd find something left undone that I +could work on, so I wouldn't have to sit and worry about the +possibility of Duane's having forgotten us. But everything was ready. +The extra chairs were out and the furniture all dusted, and Martha's +cakes and cookies arranged on the table.</p> + +<p>I couldn't sit still. Not today. I got up out of the chair and joined +her on the veranda.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what their surprise is...." she said. "Didn't John give you +any hint at all?"</p> + +<p>"No," I said. "But whatever it is, it can't be half as wonderful as +ours."</p> + +<p>She reached for my hand. "Lewis," she whispered. "I can hardly believe +it, can you?"</p> + +<p>"No," I said. "But it's true. We're really going."</p> + +<p>I put my arm around her, and she rested her head against me.</p> + +<p>"I'm so happy, Lewis."</p> + +<p>Her cheeks were full of color once again, and her step had a spring to +it that I hadn't seen for years. It was as if the years of waiting +were falling away from both of us now.</p> + +<p>"I wish they'd come," she said. "I can hardly wait to see their faces +when we tell them."</p> + +<p>It was getting late in the afternoon. Already the sun was dipping down +toward the desert horizon. It was hard to wait. In some ways it was +harder to be patient these last few hours than it had been during all +those years we'd wanted to go back.</p> + +<p>"Look," Martha said suddenly. "There's a car now."</p> + +<p>Then I saw the car too, coming quickly toward us. It pulled up in +front of the house and stopped and Duane stepped out.</p> + +<p>"Well, hello there, Mr. Farwell," he called. "All ready for the trip?"</p> + +<p>I nodded. Suddenly, now that he was here, I couldn't say anything at +all.</p> + +<p>He must have seen how excited we were. By the time he was inside the +veranda door he'd reached into his wallet and pulled out a long +envelope.</p> + +<p>"Here's your schedule," he said. "Your tickets are all made out for +next week's flight."</p> + +<p>Martha's hand crept into mine. "You've been so kind," she whispered.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_w.jpg" alt="W" width="48" height="40" /></div> +<p>e went into the house and smiled at each other while Duane admired +the furniture and the farming district in general and our place in +particular. We hardly heard what he was saying.</p> + +<p>When the doorbell rang we stared at each other. For a minute I +couldn't think who it might be. I'd forgotten our guests and their +surprise party, even the anniversary itself had slipped my mind.</p> + +<p>"Hello in there," John Emery called. "Come on out, you two."</p> + +<p>Martha pressed my hand once more. Then she stepped to the door and +opened it.</p> + +<p>"Happy anniversary!"</p> + +<p>We stood frozen. We'd expected only a few visitors, some of our +nearest neighbors. But the yard was full of people. They crowded up +our walk and in the road and more of them were still piling out of +cars. It looked as if everyone in the district was along.</p> + +<p>"Come on out," Emery called. "You too, Duane."</p> + +<p>The two men smiled at each other knowingly, and for just a moment I +had time to wonder why.</p> + +<p>Then Martha clutched my arm. "You tell him, Lewis."</p> + +<p>"John," I said. "We have a surprise for you too—"</p> + +<p>He wouldn't let me finish. He took hold of my arm with one hand and +Martha's with the other and drew us outside where everyone could see +us.</p> + +<p>"You can tell us later, Lewis," he said, "First we have a surprise for +you!"</p> + +<p>"But wait—"</p> + +<p>They crowded in around us, laughing and waving and calling "Happy +anniversary". We couldn't resist them. They swept us along with them +down the walk and into one of the cars.</p> + +<p>I looked around for Duane. He was in the back seat, smiling somewhat +nervously. Perhaps he thought that this was normal farm life.</p> + +<p>"Lewis," Martha said, "where are they taking us?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know...."</p> + +<p>The cars started, ours leading the way. It was a regular procession +back to the village, with everyone laughing and calling to us and +telling us how happy we were going to be with our surprise. Every time +we tried to ask questions, John Emery interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Just wait and see," he kept saying. "Wait and see...."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="37" height="40" /></div> +<p>t the end of the village square they'd put up a platform. It wasn't +very big, nor very well made, but it was strung with yards of bunting +and a huge sign that said, "Happy Anniversary, Lewis and Martha."</p> + +<p>We were pushed toward it, carried along by the swarm of people. There +wasn't any way to resist. Martha clung to my arm, pressing close +against me. She was trembling again.</p> + +<p>"What does it mean, Lewis?"</p> + +<p>"I wish I knew."</p> + +<p>They pushed us right up onto the platform and John Emery followed us +up and held out his hand to quiet the crowd. I put my arm around +Martha and looked down at them. Hundreds of people. All in their best +clothes. Our friends's children and grandchildren, and even +great-grandchildren.</p> + +<p>"I won't make a speech," John Emery said when they were finally quiet. +"You know why we're here today—all of you except Lewis and Martha +know. It's an anniversary. A big anniversary. Thirty-five years today +since our fathers—and you two—landed here on Mars...."</p> + +<p>He paused. He didn't seem to know what to say next. Finally he turned +and swept his arm past the platform to where a big canvas-covered +object stood on the ground.</p> + +<p>"Unveil it," he said.</p> + +<p>The crowd grew absolutely quiet. A couple of boys stepped up and +pulled the canvas off.</p> + +<p>"There's your surprise," John Emery said softly.</p> + +<p>It was a statue. A life-size statue carved from the dull red stone of +Mars. Two figures, a man and a woman, dressed in farm clothes, +standing side by side and looking out across the square toward the +open desert.</p> + +<p>They were very real, those figures. Real, and somehow familiar.</p> + +<p>"Lewis," Martha whispered. "They're—they're us!"</p> + +<p>She was right. It was a statue of us. Neither old nor young, but +ageless. Two farmers, looking out forever across the endless Martian +desert....</p> + +<p>There was an inscription on the base, but I couldn't quite make it +out. Martha could. She read it, slowly, while everyone in the crowd +stood silent, listening.</p> + +<p>"Lewis and Martha Farwell," she read. "The last of the pioneers—" Her +voice broke. "Underneath," she whispered, "it says—the first +Martians. And then it lists them—us...."</p> + +<p>She read the list, all the names of our friends who had come out on +that first ship. The names of men and women who had died, one by one, +and left their farms to their children—to the same children who now +crowded close about the platform and listened to her read, and smiled +up at us.</p> + +<p>She came to the end of the list and looked out at the crowd. "Thank +you," she whispered.</p> + +<p>They shouted then. They called out to us and pressed forward and held +their babies up to see us.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p> looked out past the people, across the flat red desert to the +horizon, toward the spot in the east where the Earth would rise, much +later. The dry smell of Mars had never been stronger.</p> + +<p>The first Martians....</p> + +<p>They were so real, those carved figures. Lewis and Martha Farwell....</p> + +<p>"Look at them, Lewis," Martha said softly. "They're cheering us. Us!"</p> + +<p>She was smiling. There were tears in her eyes, but her smile was +bright and proud and shining. Slowly she turned away from me and +straightened, staring out over the heads of the crowd across the +desert to the east. She stood with her head thrown back and her mouth +smiling, and she was as proudly erect as the statue that was her +likeness.</p> + +<p>"Martha," I whispered. "How can we tell them goodbye?"</p> + +<p>Then she turned to face me, and I could see the tears glistening in +her eyes. "We can't leave, Lewis. Not after this."</p> + +<p>She was right, of course. We couldn't leave. We were symbols. The last +of the pioneers. The first Martians. And they had carved their symbol +in our image and made us a part of Mars forever.</p> + +<p>I glanced down, along the rows of upturned, laughing faces, searching +for Duane. He was easy to find. He was the only one who wasn't +shouting. His eyes met mine, and I didn't have to say anything. He +knew. He climbed up beside me on the platform.</p> + +<p>I tried to speak, but I couldn't.</p> + +<p>"Tell him, Lewis," Martha whispered. "Tell him we can't go."</p> + +<p>Then she was crying. Her smile was gone and her proud look was gone +and her hand crept into mine and trembled there. I put my arm around +her shoulders, but there was no way I could comfort her.</p> + +<p>"Now we'll never go," she sobbed. "We'll never get home...."</p> + +<p>I don't think I had ever realized, until that moment, just how much it +meant to her—getting home. Much more, perhaps, than it had ever meant +to me.</p> + +<p>The statues were only statues. They were carved from the stone of +Mars. And Martha wanted Earth. We both wanted Earth. Home....</p> + +<p>I looked away from her then, back to Duane. "No," I said. "We're still +going. Only—" I broke off, hearing the shouting and the cheers and +the children's laughter. "Only, how can we tell <i>them</i>?"</p> + +<p>Duane smiled. "Don't try to, Mr. Farwell," he said softly. "Just wait +and see."</p> + +<p>He turned, nodded to where John Emery still stood at the edge of the +platform. "All right, John."</p> + +<p>Emery nodded too, and then he raised his hand. As he did so, the +shouting stopped and the people stood suddenly quiet, still looking up +at us.</p> + +<p>"You all know that this is an anniversary," John Emery said. "And you +all know something else that Lewis and Martha thought they'd kept as a +surprise—that this is more than an anniversary. It's goodbye."</p> + +<p>I stared at him. He knew. All of them knew. And then I looked at Duane +and saw that he was smiling more than ever.</p> + +<p>"They've lived here on Mars for thirty-five years," John Emery said. +"And now they're going back to Earth."</p> + +<p>Martha's hand tightened on mine. "Look, Lewis," she cried. "Look at +them. They're not angry. They're—they're happy for us!"</p> + +<p>John Emery turned to face us. "Surprised?" he said.</p> + +<p>I nodded. Martha nodded too. Behind him, the people cheered again.</p> + +<p>"I thought you would be," Emery said. Then, "I'm not very good at +speeches, but I just wanted you to know how much we've enjoyed being +your neighbors. Don't forget us when you get back to Earth."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_i.jpg" alt="I" width="16" height="40" /></div> +<p>t was a long, long trip from Mars to Earth. Three months on the ship, +thirty-five million miles. A trip we had dreamed about for so long, +without any real hope of ever making it. But now it was over. We were +back on Earth. Back where we had started from.</p> + +<p>"It's good to be alone, isn't it, Lewis?" Martha leaned back in her +chair and smiled up at me.</p> + +<p>I nodded. It did feel good to be here in the apartment, just the two +of us, away from the crowds and the speeches and the official welcomes +and the flashbulbs popping.</p> + +<p>"I wish they wouldn't make such a fuss over us," she said. "I wish +they'd leave us alone."</p> + +<p>"You can't blame them," I said, although I couldn't help wishing the +same thing. "We're celebrities. What was it that reporter said about +us? That we're part of history...."</p> + +<p>She sighed. She turned away from me and looked out the window again, +past the buildings and the lighted traffic ramps and the throngs of +people bustling by outside, people who couldn't see in through the +one-way glass, people whom we couldn't hear because the room was +soundproofed.</p> + +<p>"Mars should be up by now," she said.</p> + +<p>"It probably is." I looked out again, although I knew that we would +see nothing. No stars. No planets. Not even the moon, except as a pale +half disc peering through the haze. The lights from the city were too +bright. The air held the light and reflected it down again, and the +sky was a deep, dark blue with the buildings about us towering into +it, outlined blackly against it. And we couldn't see the stars....</p> + +<p>"Lewis," Martha said slowly. "I never thought it would have changed +this much, did you?"</p> + +<p>"No." I couldn't tell from her voice whether she liked the changes or +not. Lately I couldn't tell much of anything from her voice. And +nothing was the same as we had remembered it.</p> + +<p>Even the Earth farms were mechanized now. Factory production lines for +food, as well as for everything else. It was necessary, of course. We +had heard all the reasons, all the theories, all the latest +statistics.</p> + +<p>"I guess I'll go to bed soon," Martha said. "I'm tired."</p> + +<p>"It's the higher gravity." We'd both been tired since we got back to +Earth. We had forgotten, over the years, what Earth gravity was like.</p> + +<p>She hesitated. She smiled at me, but her eyes were worried. +"Lewis—are you really glad we came back?"</p> + +<p>It was the first time she had asked me that. And there was only one +answer I could give her. The one she expected.</p> + +<p>"Of course, Martha...."</p> + +<p>She sighed again. She got up out of the chair and turned toward the +bedroom door, and then she paused there by the window looking out at +the deep blue sky.</p> + +<p>"Are you really glad, Lewis?"</p> + +<p>Then I knew. Or, at least, I hoped. "Why, Martha? Aren't you?"</p> + +<p>For one long minute she stood beside me, looking up at the Mars we +couldn't see. And then she turned to face me once again, and I could +see the tears.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lewis, I want to go home!"</p> + +<p>Full circle. We had both come full circle these last few hectic weeks +on Earth.</p> + +<p>"So do I, Martha."</p> + +<p>"Do you, Lewis?" And then the tiredness came back to her eyes and she +looked away again. "But of course we can't."</p> + +<p>Slowly I crossed over to the desk and opened the top drawer and took +out the folder that Duane had given me, that last day at the +spaceport, just before our ship to Earth had blasted off. Slowly I +unfolded the paper that Duane had told me to keep in case we ever +wanted it.</p> + +<p>"Yes, we can, Martha. We can go back."</p> + +<p>"What's that, Lewis?" And then she saw what it was. Her face came +alive again, and her eyes were shining. "We're going home?" she +whispered. "We're really going home?"</p> + +<p>I looked down at the Earth-Mars half of the round trip ticket that +Duane had given me, and I knew that this time she was right.</p> + +<p>This time we'd really be going home.</p> + +<h3>THE END</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Statue, by Mari Wolf + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STATUE *** + +***** This file should be named 32448-h.htm or 32448-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/4/4/32448/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Statue + +Author: Mari Wolf + +Illustrator: Bob Martin + +Release Date: May 20, 2010 [EBook #32448] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STATUE *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction January + 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. + + + [Illustration: _I put my arms around her shoulders but there was no + way I could comfort her._] + + + The STATUE + + + By Mari Wolf + + + Illustrated by BOB MARTIN + + + _There is a time for doing and a time for going home. But + where is home in an ever-changing universe?_ + + * * * * * + + + + +"Lewis," Martha said. "I want to go home." + +She didn't look at me. I followed her gaze to Earth, rising in the +east. + +It came up over the desert horizon, a clear, bright star at this +distance. Right now it was the Morning Star. It wasn't long before +dawn. + +I looked back at Martha sitting quietly beside me with her shawl drawn +tightly about her knees. She had waited to see it also, of course. It +had become almost a ritual with us these last few years, staying up +night after night to watch the earthrise. + +She didn't say anything more. Even the gentle squeak of her rocking +chair had fallen silent. Only her hands moved. I could see them +trembling where they lay folded in her lap, trembling with emotion and +tiredness and old age. I knew what she was thinking. After seventy +years there can be no secrets. + +We sat on the glassed-in veranda of our Martian home looking up at the +Morning Star. To us it wasn't a point of light. It was the continents +and oceans of Earth, the mountains and meadows and laughing streams of +our childhood. We saw Earth still, though we had lived on Mars for +almost sixty-six years. + +"Lewis," Martha whispered softly. "It's very bright tonight, isn't +it?" + +"Yes," I said. + +"It seems so near." + +She sighed and drew the shawl higher about her waist. + +"Only three months by rocket ship," she said. "We could be back home +in three months, Lewis, if we went out on this week's run." + +I nodded. For years we'd watched the rocket ships streak upward +through the thin Martian atmosphere, and we'd envied the men who so +casually travelled from world to world. But it had been a useless +envy, something of which we rarely spoke. + +Inside our veranda the air was cool and slightly moist. Earth air, +perfumed with the scent of Earth roses. Yet we knew it was only +illusion. Outside, just beyond the glass, the cold night air of Mars +lay thin and alien and smelling of alkali. It seemed to me tonight +that I could smell that ever-dry Martian dust, even here. I sighed, +fumbling for my pipe. + +"Lewis," Martha said, very softly. + +"What is it?" I cupped my hands over the match flame. + +"Nothing. It's just that I wish--I wish we _could_ go home, right +away. Home to Earth. I want to see it again, before we die." + +"We'll go back," I said. "Next year for sure. We'll have enough money +then." + +She sighed. "Next year may be too late." + +I looked over at her, startled. She'd never talked like that before. I +started to protest, but the words died away before I could even speak +them. She was right. Next year might indeed be too late. + +Her work-coarsened hands were thin, too thin, and they never stopped +shaking any more. Her body was a frail shadow of what it had once +been. Even her voice was frail now. + +She was old. We were both old. There wouldn't be many more Martian +summers for us, nor many years of missing Earth. + +"Why can't we go back this year, Lewis?" + +She smiled at me almost apologetically. She knew the reason as well as +I did. + +"We can't," I said. "There's not enough money." + +"There's enough for our tickets." + +I'd explained all that to her before, too. Perhaps she'd forgotten. +Lately I often had to explain things more than once. + +"You can't buy passage unless you have enough extra for insurance, and +travelers' checks, and passport tax. The company has to protect +itself. Unless you're financially responsible, they won't take you on +the ships." + +She shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever have enough." + + * * * * * + +We'd saved our money for years, but it was a pitifully small savings. +We weren't rich people who could go down to the spaceport and buy +passage on the rocket ships, no questions asked, no bond required. We +were only farmers, eking our livelihood from the unproductive Martian +soil, only two of the countless little people of the solar system. In +all our lifetime we'd never been able to save enough to go home to +Earth. + +"One more year," I said. "If the crop prices stay up...." + +She smiled, a sad little smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Yes, +Lewis," she said. "One more year." + +But I couldn't stop thinking of what she'd said earlier, nor stop +seeing her thin, tired body. Neither of us was strong any more, but of +the two I was far stronger than she. + +When we'd left Earth she'd been as eager and graceful as a child. We +hadn't been much past childhood then, either of us.... + +"Sometimes I wonder why we ever came here," she said. + +"It's been a good life." + +She sighed. "I know. But now that it's nearly over, there's nothing to +hold us here." + +"No," I said. "There's not." + +If we had had children it might have been different. As it was, we +lived surrounded by the children and grandchildren of our friends. Our +friends themselves were dead. One by one they had died, all of those +who came with us on the first colonizing ship to Mars. All of those +who came later, on the second and third ships. Their children were our +neighbors now--and they were Martian born. It wasn't the same. + +She leaned over and pressed my hand. "We'd better go in, Lewis," she +said. "We need our sleep." + +Her eyes were raised again to the green star that was Earth. Watching +her, I knew that I loved her now as much as when we had been young +together. More, really, for we had added years of shared memories. I +wanted so much to give her what she longed for, what we both longed +for. But I couldn't think of any way to do it. Not this year. + +Once, almost seventy years before, I had smiled at the girl who had +just promised to become my wife, and I'd said: "I'll give you the +world, darling. All tied up in pink ribbons." + +I didn't want to think about that now. + +We got up and went into the house and shut the veranda door behind us. + + * * * * * + +I couldn't go to sleep. For hours I lay in bed staring up at the +shadowed ceiling, trying to think of some way to raise the money. But +there wasn't any way that I could see. It would be at least eight +months before enough of the greenhouse crops were harvested. + +What would happen, I wondered, if I went to the spaceport and asked +for tickets? If I explained that we couldn't buy insurance, that we +couldn't put up the bond guaranteeing we wouldn't become public +charges back on Earth.... But all the time I wondered I knew the +answer. Rules were rules. They wouldn't be broken especially not for +two old farmers who had long outlived their usefulness and their time. + +Martha sighed in her sleep and turned over. It was light enough now +for me to see her face clearly. She was smiling. But a minute ago she +had been crying, for the tears were still wet on her cheeks. + +Perhaps she was dreaming of Earth again. + +Suddenly, watching her, I didn't care if they laughed at me or +lectured me on my responsibilities to the government as if I were a +senile fool. I was going to the spaceport. I was going to find out if, +somehow, we couldn't go back. + +I got up and dressed and went out, walking softly so as not to awaken +her. But even so she heard me and called out to me. + +"Lewis...." + +I turned at the head of the stairs and looked back into the room. + +"Don't get up, Martha," I said. "I'm going into town." + +"All right, Lewis." + +She relaxed, and a minute later she was asleep again. I tiptoed +downstairs and out the front door to where the trike car was parked, +and started for the village a mile to the west. + +It was desert all the way. Dry, fine red sand that swirled upward in +choking clouds, if you stepped off the pavement into it. The narrow +road cut straight through it, linking the outlying district farms to +the town. The farms themselves were planted in the desert. Small, +glassed-in houses and barns, and large greenhouses roofed with even +more glass, that sheltered the Earth plants and gave them Earth air to +breathe. + + * * * * * + +When I came to the second farmhouse John Emery hurried out to meet me. + +"Morning, Lewis," he said. "Going to town?" + +I shut off the motor and nodded. "I want to catch the early shuttle +plane to the spaceport," I said. "I'm going to the city to buy some +things...." + +I had to lie about it. I didn't want anyone to know we were even +thinking of leaving, at least not until we had our tickets in our +hands. + +"Oh," Emery said. "That's right. I suppose you'll be buying Martha an +anniversary present." + +I stared at him blankly. I couldn't think what anniversary he meant. + +"You'll have been here thirty-five years next week," he said. "That's +a long time, Lewis...." + +Thirty-five years. It took me a minute to realize what he meant. He +was right. That was how long we had been here, in Martian years. + +The others, those who had been born here on Mars, always used the +Martian seasons. We had too, once. But lately we forgot, and counted +in Earth time. It seemed more natural. + +"Wait a minute, Lewis," Emery said. "I'll ride into the village with +you. There's plenty of time for you to make your plane." + +I went up on his veranda and sat down and waited for him to get ready. +I leaned back in the swing chair and rocked slowly back and forth, +wondering idly how many times I'd sat here. + +This was old Tom Emery's house. Or had been, until he died eight years +ago. He'd built this swing chair the very first year we'd been on +Mars. + +Now it was young John's. Young? That showed how old we were getting. +John was sixty-three, in Earth years. He'd been born that second +winter, the month the parasites got into the greenhouses.... + +He came back out onto the veranda. "Well, I'm ready, Lewis," he said. + +We went down to my trike car and got in. + +"You and Martha ought to get out more," he said. "Jenny's been asking +me why you don't come to call." + +I shrugged. I couldn't tell him we seldom went out because when we +did we were always set apart and treated carefully, like children. He +probably didn't even realize that it was so. + +"Oh," I said. "We like it at home." + +He smiled. "I suppose you do, after thirty-five years." + +I started the motor quickly, and from then on concentrated on my +driving. He didn't say anything more. + + * * * * * + +It took only a few minutes to get to the village, but even so I was +tired. Lately it grew harder and harder to drive, to keep the trike +car on the narrow strip of pavement. I was glad when we pulled up in +the square and got out. + +"I'll walk over to the plane with you," Emery said. "I've got plenty +of time." + +"All right." + +"By the way, Lewis, Jenny and I and some of the neighbors thought we'd +drop over on your anniversary." + +"That's fine," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Come on over." + +"It's a big event," he said. "Deserves a celebration." + +The shuttle plane was just landing. I hurried over to the ticket +window, with him right beside me. + +"I just wanted to be sure you'd be home," he said. "We wouldn't want +you to miss your own party." + +"Party?" I said. "But John--" + +He wouldn't even let me finish protesting. + +"Now don't ask any questions, Lewis. You wouldn't want to spoil the +surprise, would you?" + +He chuckled. "Your plane's loading now. You'd better be going. Thanks +for the ride, Lewis." + +I went across to the plane and got in. I hoped that somehow we +wouldn't have to spend that Martian anniversary being congratulated +and petted and babied. I didn't think Martha could stand it. But there +wasn't any polite way to say no. + + * * * * * + +It wasn't a long trip to the spaceport. In less than an hour the plane +dropped down to the air strip that flanked the rocket field. But it +was like flying from one civilization to another. + +The city was big, almost like an Earth city. There was lots of +traffic, cars and copters and planes. All the bustle of the spaceways +stations. + +But although the city looked like Earth, it smelled as dry and +alkaline as all the rest of Mars. + +I found the ticket office easily enough and went in. The young clerk +barely glanced up at me. "Yes?" he said. + +"I want to inquire about tickets to Earth," I said. + +My hands were sweating, and I could feel my heart pounding too fast +against my ribs. But my voice sounded casual, just the way I wanted it +to sound. + +"Tickets?" the clerk said. "How many?" + +"Two. How much would they cost? Everything included." + +"Forty-two eighty," he said. His voice was still bored. "I could give +them to you for the flight after next. Tourist class, of course...." + +We didn't have that much. We were at least three hundred short. + +"Isn't there any way," I said hesitantly, "that I could get them for +less? I mean, we wouldn't need insurance, would we?" + +He looked up at me for the first time, startled. "You don't mean you +want them for yourself, do you?" + +"Why yes. For me and my wife." + +He shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said flatly. "But that would be +impossible in any case. You're too old." + +He turned away from me and bent over his desk work again. + +The words hung in the air. Too old ... too old ... I clutched the edge +of the desk and steadied myself and forced down the panic I could feel +rising. + +"Do you mean," I said slowly, "that you wouldn't sell us tickets even +if we had the money?" + +He glanced up again, obviously annoyed at my persistence. "That's +right. No passengers over seventy carried without special visas. +Medical precaution." + +I just stood there. This couldn't be happening. Not after all our +years of working and saving and planning for the future. Not go back. +Not even next year. Stay here, because we were old and frail and the +ships wouldn't be bothered with us anyway. + +Martha.... How could I tell her? How could I say, "We can't go home, +Martha. They won't let us." + +I couldn't say it. There had to be some other way. + +"Pardon me," I said to the clerk, "but who should I see about getting +a visa?" + +He swept the stack of papers away with an impatient gesture and +frowned up at me. + +"Over at the colonial office, I suppose," he said. "But it won't do +you any good." + +I could read in his eyes what he thought of me. Of me and all the +other farmers who lived in the outlying districts and raised crops and +seldom came to the city. My clothes were old and provincial and out of +style, and so was I, to him. + +"I'll try it anyway," I said. + +He started to say something, then bit it back and looked away from me +again. I was keeping him from his work. I was just a rude old man +interfering with the operation of the spaceways. + +Slowly I let go of the desk and turned to leave. It was hard to walk. +My knees were trembling, and my whole body shook. It was all I could +do not to cry. It angered me, the quavering in my voice and the +weakness in my legs. + +I went out into the hall and looked for the directory that would point +the way to the colonial office. It wasn't far off. + +I walked out onto the edge of the field and past the Earth rocket, its +silver nose pointed up at the sky. I couldn't bear to look at it for +longer than a minute. + +It was only a few hundred yards to the colonial office, but it seemed +like miles. + + * * * * * + +This office was larger than the other, and much more comfortable. The +man seated behind the desk seemed friendlier too. + +"May I help you?" he asked. + +"Yes," I said slowly. "The man at the ticket office told me to come +here. I wanted to see about getting a permit to go back to Earth...." + +His smile faded. "For yourself?" + +"Yes," I said woodenly. "For myself and my wife." + +"Well, Mr...." + +"Farwell. Lewis Farwell." + +"My name's Duane. Please sit down, won't you?... How old are you, Mr. +Farwell?" + +"Eighty-seven," I said. "In Earth years." + +He frowned. "The regulations say no space travel for people past +seventy, except in certain special cases...." + +I looked down at my hands. They were shaking badly. I knew he could +see them shake, and was judging me as old and weak and unable to stand +the trip. He couldn't know why I was trembling. + +"Please," I whispered. "It wouldn't matter if it hurt us. It's just +that we want to see Earth again. It's been so long...." + +"How long have you been here, Mr. Farwell?" It was merely politeness. +There wasn't any promise in his voice. + +"Sixty-five years." I looked up at him. "Isn't there some way--" + +"Sixty-five years? But that means you must have come here on the first +colonizing ship." + +"Yes," I said. "We did." + +"I can't believe it," he said slowly. "I can't believe I'm actually +looking at one of the pioneers." He shook his head. "I didn't even +know any of them were still on Mars." + +"We're the last ones," I said. "That's the main reason we want to go +back. It's awfully hard staying on when your friends are dead." + + * * * * * + +Duane got up and crossed the room to the window and looked out over +the rocket field. + +"But what good would it do to go back, Mr. Farwell?" he asked. "Earth +has changed very much in the last sixty-five years." + +He was trying to soften the disappointment. But nothing could. If only +I could make him realize that. + +"I know it's changed," I said. "But it's _home_. Don't you see? We're +Earthmen still. I guess that never changes. And now that we're old, +we're aliens here." + +"We're all aliens here, Mr. Farwell." + +"No," I said desperately. "Maybe you are. Maybe a lot of the city +people are. But our neighbors were born on Mars. To them Earth is a +legend. A place where their ancestors once lived. It's not real to +them...." + +He turned and crossed the room and came back to me. His smile was +pitying. "If you went back," he said, "you'd find you were a Martian, +too." + +I couldn't reach him. He was friendly and pleasant and he was trying +to make things easier, and it wasn't any use talking. I bent my head +and choked back the sobs I could feel rising in my throat. + +"You've lived a full life," Duane said. "You were one of the pioneers. +I remember reading about your ship when I was a boy, and wishing I'd +been born sooner so that I could have been on it." + +Slowly I raised my head and looked up at him. + +"Please," I said. "I know that. I'm glad we came here. If we had our +lives to live over, we'd come again. We'd go through all the +hardships of those first few years, and enjoy them just as much. We'd +be just as thrilled over proving that it's possible to farm a world +like this, where it's always freezing and the air is thin and nothing +will grow outside the greenhouses. You don't need to tell me what +we've done, or what we've gotten out of it. We know. We've had a +wonderful life here." + +"But you still want to go back?" + +"Yes," I said. "We still want to go back. We're tired of living in the +past, with our friends dead and nothing to do except remember." + +He looked at me for a long moment. Then he said slowly, "You realize, +don't you, that if you went back to Earth you'd have to stay there? +You couldn't return to Mars...." + +"I realize that," I said. "That's what we want. We want to die at +home. On Earth." + + * * * * * + +For a long, long moment his eyes never left mine. Then, slowly, he sat +down at his desk and reached for a pen. + +"All right, Mr. Farwell," he said. "I'll give you a visa." + +I couldn't believe it. I stared at him, sure that I'd misunderstood. + +"Sixty-five years...." He shook his head. "I only hope I'm doing the +right thing. I hope you won't regret this." + +"We won't," I whispered. + +Then I remembered that we were still short of money. That that was why +I'd come to the spaceport originally. I was almost afraid to mention +it, for fear I'd lose everything. + +"Is there--is there some way we could be excused from the insurance?" +I said. "So we could go back this year? We're three hundred short." + +He smiled. It was a very reassuring smile. "You don't need to worry +about the money," he said. "The colonial office can take care of that. +After all, we owe your generation a great debt, Mr. Farwell. A +passport tax and the fare to Earth are little enough to pay for a +planet." + +I didn't quite understand him, but that didn't matter. The only thing +that mattered was that we were going home. Back to Earth. I could see +Martha's face when I told her. I could see her tears of happiness.... + +There were tears on my own cheeks, but I wasn't ashamed of them now. + +"Mr. Farwell," Duane said. "You go back home. The shuttle ship will be +leaving in a few minutes." + +"You mean that--" I started. + +He nodded. "I'll get your tickets for you. On the first ship I can. +Just leave it to me." + +"It's too much trouble," I protested. + +"No it's not." He smiled. "Besides, I'd like to bring them out to you. +I'd like to see your farm, if I may." + +Then I remembered what John Emery had said this morning about our +anniversary. It would be a wonderful celebration, now that there was +something to celebrate. We could even save our announcement that we +were going home until then. + +"Mr. Duane," I said. "Next week, on the tenth, we'll have been here +thirty-five Martian years. Maybe you'd like to come out then. I guess +our neighbors will be giving us a sort of party." + +He laid the pen down and looked at me very intently. "They don't know +you're planning to leave yet, do they?" + +"No. We'll wait and tell them then." + +Duane nodded slowly. "I'll be there," he promised. + + * * * * * + +Martha was out on the veranda again, looking down the road toward the +village. All afternoon at least one of us had been out there watching +for our guests, waiting for our anniversary celebration to begin. + +"Do you see anyone yet?" I called. + +"No," she said. "Not yet...." + +I looked around the room hoping I'd find something left undone that I +could work on, so I wouldn't have to sit and worry about the +possibility of Duane's having forgotten us. But everything was ready. +The extra chairs were out and the furniture all dusted, and Martha's +cakes and cookies arranged on the table. + +I couldn't sit still. Not today. I got up out of the chair and joined +her on the veranda. + +"I wonder what their surprise is...." she said. "Didn't John give you +any hint at all?" + +"No," I said. "But whatever it is, it can't be half as wonderful as +ours." + +She reached for my hand. "Lewis," she whispered. "I can hardly believe +it, can you?" + +"No," I said. "But it's true. We're really going." + +I put my arm around her, and she rested her head against me. + +"I'm so happy, Lewis." + +Her cheeks were full of color once again, and her step had a spring to +it that I hadn't seen for years. It was as if the years of waiting +were falling away from both of us now. + +"I wish they'd come," she said. "I can hardly wait to see their faces +when we tell them." + +It was getting late in the afternoon. Already the sun was dipping down +toward the desert horizon. It was hard to wait. In some ways it was +harder to be patient these last few hours than it had been during all +those years we'd wanted to go back. + +"Look," Martha said suddenly. "There's a car now." + +Then I saw the car too, coming quickly toward us. It pulled up in +front of the house and stopped and Duane stepped out. + +"Well, hello there, Mr. Farwell," he called. "All ready for the trip?" + +I nodded. Suddenly, now that he was here, I couldn't say anything at +all. + +He must have seen how excited we were. By the time he was inside the +veranda door he'd reached into his wallet and pulled out a long +envelope. + +"Here's your schedule," he said. "Your tickets are all made out for +next week's flight." + +Martha's hand crept into mine. "You've been so kind," she whispered. + + * * * * * + +We went into the house and smiled at each other while Duane admired +the furniture and the farming district in general and our place in +particular. We hardly heard what he was saying. + +When the doorbell rang we stared at each other. For a minute I +couldn't think who it might be. I'd forgotten our guests and their +surprise party, even the anniversary itself had slipped my mind. + +"Hello in there," John Emery called. "Come on out, you two." + +Martha pressed my hand once more. Then she stepped to the door and +opened it. + +"Happy anniversary!" + +We stood frozen. We'd expected only a few visitors, some of our +nearest neighbors. But the yard was full of people. They crowded up +our walk and in the road and more of them were still piling out of +cars. It looked as if everyone in the district was along. + +"Come on out," Emery called. "You too, Duane." + +The two men smiled at each other knowingly, and for just a moment I +had time to wonder why. + +Then Martha clutched my arm. "You tell him, Lewis." + +"John," I said. "We have a surprise for you too--" + +He wouldn't let me finish. He took hold of my arm with one hand and +Martha's with the other and drew us outside where everyone could see +us. + +"You can tell us later, Lewis," he said, "First we have a surprise for +you!" + +"But wait--" + +They crowded in around us, laughing and waving and calling "Happy +anniversary". We couldn't resist them. They swept us along with them +down the walk and into one of the cars. + +I looked around for Duane. He was in the back seat, smiling somewhat +nervously. Perhaps he thought that this was normal farm life. + +"Lewis," Martha said, "where are they taking us?" + +"I don't know...." + +The cars started, ours leading the way. It was a regular procession +back to the village, with everyone laughing and calling to us and +telling us how happy we were going to be with our surprise. Every time +we tried to ask questions, John Emery interrupted. + +"Just wait and see," he kept saying. "Wait and see...." + + * * * * * + +At the end of the village square they'd put up a platform. It wasn't +very big, nor very well made, but it was strung with yards of bunting +and a huge sign that said, "Happy Anniversary, Lewis and Martha." + +We were pushed toward it, carried along by the swarm of people. There +wasn't any way to resist. Martha clung to my arm, pressing close +against me. She was trembling again. + +"What does it mean, Lewis?" + +"I wish I knew." + +They pushed us right up onto the platform and John Emery followed us +up and held out his hand to quiet the crowd. I put my arm around +Martha and looked down at them. Hundreds of people. All in their best +clothes. Our friends's children and grandchildren, and even +great-grandchildren. + +"I won't make a speech," John Emery said when they were finally quiet. +"You know why we're here today--all of you except Lewis and Martha +know. It's an anniversary. A big anniversary. Thirty-five years today +since our fathers--and you two--landed here on Mars...." + +He paused. He didn't seem to know what to say next. Finally he turned +and swept his arm past the platform to where a big canvas-covered +object stood on the ground. + +"Unveil it," he said. + +The crowd grew absolutely quiet. A couple of boys stepped up and +pulled the canvas off. + +"There's your surprise," John Emery said softly. + +It was a statue. A life-size statue carved from the dull red stone of +Mars. Two figures, a man and a woman, dressed in farm clothes, +standing side by side and looking out across the square toward the +open desert. + +They were very real, those figures. Real, and somehow familiar. + +"Lewis," Martha whispered. "They're--they're us!" + +She was right. It was a statue of us. Neither old nor young, but +ageless. Two farmers, looking out forever across the endless Martian +desert.... + +There was an inscription on the base, but I couldn't quite make it +out. Martha could. She read it, slowly, while everyone in the crowd +stood silent, listening. + +"Lewis and Martha Farwell," she read. "The last of the pioneers--" Her +voice broke. "Underneath," she whispered, "it says--the first +Martians. And then it lists them--us...." + +She read the list, all the names of our friends who had come out on +that first ship. The names of men and women who had died, one by one, +and left their farms to their children--to the same children who now +crowded close about the platform and listened to her read, and smiled +up at us. + +She came to the end of the list and looked out at the crowd. "Thank +you," she whispered. + +They shouted then. They called out to us and pressed forward and held +their babies up to see us. + + * * * * * + +I looked out past the people, across the flat red desert to the +horizon, toward the spot in the east where the Earth would rise, much +later. The dry smell of Mars had never been stronger. + +The first Martians.... + +They were so real, those carved figures. Lewis and Martha Farwell.... + +"Look at them, Lewis," Martha said softly. "They're cheering us. Us!" + +She was smiling. There were tears in her eyes, but her smile was +bright and proud and shining. Slowly she turned away from me and +straightened, staring out over the heads of the crowd across the +desert to the east. She stood with her head thrown back and her mouth +smiling, and she was as proudly erect as the statue that was her +likeness. + +"Martha," I whispered. "How can we tell them goodbye?" + +Then she turned to face me, and I could see the tears glistening in +her eyes. "We can't leave, Lewis. Not after this." + +She was right, of course. We couldn't leave. We were symbols. The last +of the pioneers. The first Martians. And they had carved their symbol +in our image and made us a part of Mars forever. + +I glanced down, along the rows of upturned, laughing faces, searching +for Duane. He was easy to find. He was the only one who wasn't +shouting. His eyes met mine, and I didn't have to say anything. He +knew. He climbed up beside me on the platform. + +I tried to speak, but I couldn't. + +"Tell him, Lewis," Martha whispered. "Tell him we can't go." + +Then she was crying. Her smile was gone and her proud look was gone +and her hand crept into mine and trembled there. I put my arm around +her shoulders, but there was no way I could comfort her. + +"Now we'll never go," she sobbed. "We'll never get home...." + +I don't think I had ever realized, until that moment, just how much it +meant to her--getting home. Much more, perhaps, than it had ever meant +to me. + +The statues were only statues. They were carved from the stone of +Mars. And Martha wanted Earth. We both wanted Earth. Home.... + +I looked away from her then, back to Duane. "No," I said. "We're still +going. Only--" I broke off, hearing the shouting and the cheers and +the children's laughter. "Only, how can we tell _them_?" + +Duane smiled. "Don't try to, Mr. Farwell," he said softly. "Just wait +and see." + +He turned, nodded to where John Emery still stood at the edge of the +platform. "All right, John." + +Emery nodded too, and then he raised his hand. As he did so, the +shouting stopped and the people stood suddenly quiet, still looking up +at us. + +"You all know that this is an anniversary," John Emery said. "And you +all know something else that Lewis and Martha thought they'd kept as a +surprise--that this is more than an anniversary. It's goodbye." + +I stared at him. He knew. All of them knew. And then I looked at Duane +and saw that he was smiling more than ever. + +"They've lived here on Mars for thirty-five years," John Emery said. +"And now they're going back to Earth." + +Martha's hand tightened on mine. "Look, Lewis," she cried. "Look at +them. They're not angry. They're--they're happy for us!" + +John Emery turned to face us. "Surprised?" he said. + +I nodded. Martha nodded too. Behind him, the people cheered again. + +"I thought you would be," Emery said. Then, "I'm not very good at +speeches, but I just wanted you to know how much we've enjoyed being +your neighbors. Don't forget us when you get back to Earth." + + * * * * * + +It was a long, long trip from Mars to Earth. Three months on the ship, +thirty-five million miles. A trip we had dreamed about for so long, +without any real hope of ever making it. But now it was over. We were +back on Earth. Back where we had started from. + +"It's good to be alone, isn't it, Lewis?" Martha leaned back in her +chair and smiled up at me. + +I nodded. It did feel good to be here in the apartment, just the two +of us, away from the crowds and the speeches and the official welcomes +and the flashbulbs popping. + +"I wish they wouldn't make such a fuss over us," she said. "I wish +they'd leave us alone." + +"You can't blame them," I said, although I couldn't help wishing the +same thing. "We're celebrities. What was it that reporter said about +us? That we're part of history...." + +She sighed. She turned away from me and looked out the window again, +past the buildings and the lighted traffic ramps and the throngs of +people bustling by outside, people who couldn't see in through the +one-way glass, people whom we couldn't hear because the room was +soundproofed. + +"Mars should be up by now," she said. + +"It probably is." I looked out again, although I knew that we would +see nothing. No stars. No planets. Not even the moon, except as a pale +half disc peering through the haze. The lights from the city were too +bright. The air held the light and reflected it down again, and the +sky was a deep, dark blue with the buildings about us towering into +it, outlined blackly against it. And we couldn't see the stars.... + +"Lewis," Martha said slowly. "I never thought it would have changed +this much, did you?" + +"No." I couldn't tell from her voice whether she liked the changes or +not. Lately I couldn't tell much of anything from her voice. And +nothing was the same as we had remembered it. + +Even the Earth farms were mechanized now. Factory production lines for +food, as well as for everything else. It was necessary, of course. We +had heard all the reasons, all the theories, all the latest +statistics. + +"I guess I'll go to bed soon," Martha said. "I'm tired." + +"It's the higher gravity." We'd both been tired since we got back to +Earth. We had forgotten, over the years, what Earth gravity was like. + +She hesitated. She smiled at me, but her eyes were worried. +"Lewis--are you really glad we came back?" + +It was the first time she had asked me that. And there was only one +answer I could give her. The one she expected. + +"Of course, Martha...." + +She sighed again. She got up out of the chair and turned toward the +bedroom door, and then she paused there by the window looking out at +the deep blue sky. + +"Are you really glad, Lewis?" + +Then I knew. Or, at least, I hoped. "Why, Martha? Aren't you?" + +For one long minute she stood beside me, looking up at the Mars we +couldn't see. And then she turned to face me once again, and I could +see the tears. + +"Oh, Lewis, I want to go home!" + +Full circle. We had both come full circle these last few hectic weeks +on Earth. + +"So do I, Martha." + +"Do you, Lewis?" And then the tiredness came back to her eyes and she +looked away again. "But of course we can't." + +Slowly I crossed over to the desk and opened the top drawer and took +out the folder that Duane had given me, that last day at the +spaceport, just before our ship to Earth had blasted off. Slowly I +unfolded the paper that Duane had told me to keep in case we ever +wanted it. + +"Yes, we can, Martha. We can go back." + +"What's that, Lewis?" And then she saw what it was. Her face came +alive again, and her eyes were shining. "We're going home?" she +whispered. "We're really going home?" + +I looked down at the Earth-Mars half of the round trip ticket that +Duane had given me, and I knew that this time she was right. + +This time we'd really be going home. + +THE END + + * * * * * + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Statue, by Mari Wolf + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STATUE *** + +***** This file should be named 32448.txt or 32448.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/4/4/32448/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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