Orme, who'd won three Olympic gold medals (100 and 200 metre sprints and the long jump) went down to the central gymnasium to work out. He was, of course, eager to see what kind of athletes 'the Martians were. He expected that 2000 years of life on a planet with a gravity much lighter than Earth's would result in weaker muscles. But he was wrong. The natives ran and jumped and wrestled as if they'd been born on Earth.
Orme was attracted to Philemon by his friendly cheery manner and intrigued by the fact that he was the champion sprinter. He struck up a conversation, limited by his deficiencies in Krsh, and the sixth day after meeting him challenged him. To his surprise and chagrin, Orme was bested by several metres in each event.
'Well, I'm not in top condition,' he said between gasping breaths. 'I need about five months of working out. Besides, I'm not accustomed to running here. Every stride I take is five metres long. Also, I'm past my prime, though I think you'd have beaten me anyway. Thirty-five is very old for a sprinter. For an Earthman, that is. And I'm not used to running with bare feet, either.'
He paused to grin and said, 'Maybe I can think of some more excuses.'
It was then that Philemon told him that he was the same age as he.
'Yes, but I haven't got the age-delaying treatment. Physiologically, you're only about nineteen, I'd bet.'
'Haven't you asked for the treatment?'
Orme was taken aback. 'Why, I just took it for granted I'd be denied it. After all, I am an alien.'
'Ask Hfathon for it. It wouldn't hurt.'
Orme talked to his crewmates that evening, and they decided to petition Hfathon in the morning.
Bronski asked Orme many questions about the gymnasium. Finally, Orme said, 'You seem very interested in sports now. I always thought you were indifferent to them.'
'I'm curious because the ancient Jews hated the gymnasium and they weren't wild about sports. They associated games with the pagan Greeks and Romans. But time changes attitudes. After all, the modern Israelis are very athletic-minded. The orthodox Jews in Israel are in the minority.'
In the morning, the moment their teachers arrived and greetings were exchanged, Orme made his request.
Hfathon was silent for a minute, his hands making a church steeple.
Finally, he said, 'Yes, I knew you'd ask for that. We had a conference last night about it. Not that it lasted long. We decided that we cannot, at this time, give it to you.'
Hfathon looked as if that was the end of the matter. But Orme said, 'Why not?'
'Why should we?'
'It would be the humane thing to do.'
'Ah, would it? We still don't know much about your people. How do we know that its overall effect would not be evil?'
Madeleine said, 'Evil'?' You mean that it could result in physical trauma because our metabolism might be different from yours? Or do you mean that it might have a destructive effect on our society?'
'In any event,' Nadir said, 'how could giving it to just us be evil for the citizens of Earth?'
'To answer your second question first, Madeleine. It could disrupt society on Earth in a social sense. It would be evil. I notice that you have avoided or disparaged such terms as evil and sin. Don't you believe these exist?'
Hfathon was skilled at switching from a subject he didn't want to talk about.
'I prefer to use scientific terms,' Madeleine said.
'There is more than one kind of science. And there is a knowledge outside of science. But we won't argue about this now. To answer your question, Nadir. If you were given the treatment and then went to Earth, your scientists could analyse its chemical components from your blood. Although, from what I know of the state of your science, I'd say that treatment already could be known. Of course, it would not be as efficient as ours. But for some reason it has not been revealed to the public, perhaps for reasons similar to those which make us deny it to you. At this time, anyway.'
Orme knew by now that it was no use arguing or pleading with the Martians. He said, 'Very well. But you can understand why we want it, can't you?'
Hfathon smiled. 'Yes. By the way, the quick-learning pills will be discontinued. The blood samples we took yesterday show that you are near the danger point from the side effects.'
'What side effects?' Madeleine said. 'I haven't noticed anything.'
'Nor would you until they occurred. Which would be about three days from now. You may suffer some slight withdrawal effects, a feeling that people are in the next room when they aren't, and other paranoiac symptoms. You see, from what you've told me of your people, many would not take the pills as prescribed. Foolish people and criminals would abuse them.'
She said, angrily, 'I suppose no one here would abuse them?'
'No.'
She did not reply, but it was evident that she was fuming. Orme also felt resentful, as if he'd been unjustly reprimanded for something. But he had to admit that the Krsh was right.
At the gymnasium that afternoon, he tried subtly to get information from Philemon about the tunnels leading to the surface. Philemon, however, did not fall into any of Orme's verbal traps. He didn't seem to be aware of what Orme was doing; it was just that he tended to veer away from where Orme was steering him. He wanted to discuss athletics on Earth. The Canadian wondered if he was not as innocent as he seemed. How, for instance, had Hfathon known that Orme was going to bring up the longevity treatment? Was Philemon being pumped in the evening about what Orme said to him in the afternoon?
Or was the Martian wired for sound transmission? The Krsh had once told the Earthmen that they would not be unaccompanied when they went free. Orme had expected that a guide would be assigned to him. But this had not been done. After the first week, he was able to go wherever he wished without a companion. And the other three had reported that they were also free.
Somehow, they were being monitored from afar. Or had the Martians decided to get their information from those to whom they talked? As for visual checking, that could be done by hidden cameras in the ceiling of the cave. When they went into a house, the TV there, though it seemed blank, could be operating as a camera. Or the Martians could have implanted a tracker-audiomonitor in the flesh of their captives.
Orme sometimes wondered if he wasn't suffering from the side effects of the wogglebug pills. Was he becoming paranoid?
One day, at about 13:00 hours, Orme got tired of trying to read a textbook on differential photonic-drive mechanisms. He set the book on the floor so it could make its way back to the proper niche in the library file. He strolled over to the language department and looked through the catalogue of popular literature, which listed many books of poetry, one-half of which were religious. He decided that even if he were more fluent, he would have trouble understanding the poetry because of its compression of ideas, obscurity of reference, and tendency to puns. Krsh poetry used quantity in its metre instead of accent, much like ancient Greek and Latin poetry, and it depended heavily on alliteration and parallelism. The latter, a professor had explained, had been borrowed from Hebrew poetry.
He decided that he would return home and there continue his reading of The Testament of Matthias. But while walking home, he changed his mind. Why not borrow a car and drive around? If the authorities objected to this, they'd let him know soon enough.
There were no attendants at the municipal parking lot. A dozen of the topless vehicles were arranged in two neat rows on the stone. He got into one, pressed a button to start it, and the electrical motor was ready. There were no keys since individuals did not own cars. All were either the property of a community or of the central government. When a person wanted one he just got into it and drove off. There were very few trucks since the farmers used horse- drawn wagons, and supplies were shipped in pneumatic-driven capsule's in underground tunnels.