"They'll be back," Luci'n-6 got some static on the vidscreen. "This isn't very impressive."
"I have a feeling they won't."
"If the Terrans don't return," Luci'n-6 said thoughtfully, fooling with the vidscreen controls, "it will be one of the greatest puzzles known to archaeology."
"I'll keep watching for them," N'tgari-3 said impassively.
Martians Come in Clouds
Ted Barnes came in all grim-faced and trembling. He threw his coat and newspaper over the chair. "Another cloud," he muttered. "A whole cloud of them! One was up on Johnson's roof. They were getting it down with a long pole of some kind."
Lena came and took his coat to the closet. "I'm certainly glad you hurried right on home."
"I get the shakes when I see one of them." Ted threw himself down on the couch, groping in his pockets for cigarettes. "Honest to God it really gets me."
He lit up, blowing smoke around him in a gray mist. His hands were beginning to quiet down. He wiped sweat from his upper lip and loosened his necktie. "What's for dinner?"
"Ham." Lena bent over to kiss him.
"How come? Some sort of occasion?"
"How come? Some sort of occasion?"
Ted watched her disappear into the kitchen, slim and attractive in her bright print apron. He sighed, relaxing and leaning back. The quiet living-room, Lena in the kitchen, the television set playing to itself in the corner, made him feel a little better.
He unlaced his shoes and kicked them off. The whole incident had taken only a few minutes but it had seemed much longer. An eternity -- standing rooted to the sidewalk, staring up at Johnson's roof. The crowd of shouting men. The long pole. And...
... and it, draped over the peak of the roof, the shapeless gray bundle evading the end of that pole. Creeping this way and that, trying to keep from being dislodged.
Ted shuddered. His stomach turned over. He had stood fixed to the spot, gazing up, unable to look away. Finally some fellow running past had stepped on his foot, breaking the spell and freeing him. He had hurried on, getting away as fast as he could, relieved and shaken. Lord... !
The back door slammed. Jimmy wandered into the living-room, his hands in his pockets. "Hi, Dad." He stopped by the bathroom door, looking across at his father. "What's the matter? You're all funny looking."
"Jimmy, come over here." Ted stubbed out his cigarette. "I want to talk to you."
"I have to go wash for dinner."
"Come here and sit down. Dinner can wait." Jimmy came over and slid up onto the couch.
"What's the matter? What is it?"
Ted studied his son. Round little face, tousled hair hanging down in his eyes. Smudge of dirt on one cheek. Jimmy was eleven. Was this a good time to tell him? Ted set his jaw grimly. Now was as good a time as any -- while it was strong in his mind.
"Jimmy, there was a Martian up on Johnson's roof. I saw it on the way home from the bus depot."
Jimmy's eyes grew round. "A buggie?"
"They were getting it with a pole. A cloud of them's around. They come in clouds every few years." His hands were beginning to shake again. He lit another cigarette. "Every two or three years. Not as often as they used to. They drift down from Mars in clouds, hundreds of them. All over the world -like leaves." He shuddered. "Like a lot of dry leaves blowing down."
"Gosh!" Jimmy said. He got off the couch onto his feet. "Is it still there?"
"No, they were getting it down. Listen," Ted leaned toward the boy. "Listen to me -- I'm telling you this so you'll stay away from them. If you see one of them you turn around and run as fast as you can. You hear? Don't go near it -- stay away. Don't..."
He hesitated. "Don't pay any attention to it. You just turn around and run. Get somebody, stop the first man you see and tell him, then come on home. Do you understand?"
Jimmy nodded.
"You know what they look like. They showed you pictures at school. You must have --"
Lena came to the kitchen door. "Dinner's ready. Jimmy, aren't you washed?"
"I stopped him," Ted said, getting up from the couch. "I wanted to have a talk with him."
"You mind what your father tells you," Lena said. "About the buggies -- remember what he says or he'll give you the biggest whipping you ever heard of."
Jimmy ran to the bathroom. "I'll get washed." He disappeared, slamming the door behind him.
Ted caught Lena's gaze. "I hope they get them taken care of soon. I hate even to be outside."
"They should. I heard on television they're more organized than last time." Lena counted mentally. "This is the fifth time they've come. The fifth cloud. It seems to be tapering off. Not as often, any more. The first was in nineteen hundred and fifty-eight. The next in fifty-nine. I wonder where it'll end."
Jimmy hurried out of the bathroom. "Let's eat!"
"Okay," Ted said. "Let's eat."
It was a bright afternoon with the sun shining down everywhere. Jimmy Barnes rushed out of the school yard, through the gate and onto the sidewalk. His heart was hammering excitedly. He crossed over to Maple Street and then onto Cedar, running the whole way.
It was a bright afternoon with the sun shining down everywhere. Jimmy Barnes rushed out of the school yard, through the gate and onto the sidewalk. His heart was hammering excitedly. He crossed over to Maple Street and then onto Cedar, running the whole way.
While he was watching Mike Edwards came over and punched him on the arm. "What say, Barnes."
"Hi. Did you see it?"
"The buggie? No."
"My Dad saw it, coming home from work."
"Bull!"
"No, he really did. He said they were getting it down with a pole."
Ralf Drake rode up on his bike. "Where is it? Is it gone?"
"They already tore it up," Mike said. "Barnes says his old man saw it, coming home last night."
"He said they were poking it down with a pole. It was trying to hang onto the roof."
"They're all dried-up and withered," Mike said, "like something that's been hanging out in the garage."
"How do you know?" Ralf said.
"I saw one once."
"Yeah. I'll bet."
They walked along the sidewalk, Ralf wheeling his bike, discussing the matter loudly. They turned down Vermont Street and crossed the big vacant lot.
"The TV announcer said most of them are already rounded up," Ralf said. "There weren't very many this time."
Jimmy kicked a rock. "I'd sure like to see one before they get them all."
"I'd sure like to get one," Mike said.
Ralf sneered. "If you ever saw one you'd run so fast you wouldn't stop until the sun set."
"Oh, yeah?"
"You'd run like a fool."
"The heck I would. I'd knock the ol' buggie down with a rock."
"And carry him home in a tin can?"
Mike chased Ralf around, out into the street and up to the corner. The argument continued endlessly all the way across town and over to the other side of the railroad tracks. They walked past the ink works and the Western Lumber Company loading platforms. The sun sank low in the sky. It was getting to be evening. A cold wind came up, blowing through the palm trees at the end of the Hartly Construction Company lot.
"See you," Ralf said. He hopped on his bike, riding off. Mike and Jimmy walked back toward town together. At Cedar Street they separated.
"If you see a buggie give me a call," Mike said.
"Sure thing." Jimmy walked on up Cedar Street, his hands in his pockets. The sun had set. The evening air was chill. Darkness was descending.
He walked slowly, his eyes on the ground. The streetlights came on. A few cars moved along the street. Behind curtained windows he saw bright flashes of yellow, warm kitchens and livingrooms. A television set brayed out, rumbling into the gloom. He passed along the brick wall of the Pomeroy Estate. The wall turned into an iron fence. Above the fence great silent evergreens rose dark and unmoving in the evening twilight.