Ya'aqob said, 'In that case, the rest of us might as well return to the university. However, this is a committee, not a military unit. Though you are the chairman, anybody has a right to speak up if it so pleases him.'
'Or her,' Zhkeesh, the female, said.
Ya'aqob smirked.
Bronski translated the exchange to Orme.
'They're academics, no doubt about that.'
'Well, what is it, a "fork", or what?’ Orme said impatiently.
'Shneshdit just means "fork". It's a loan word in Greek, but it's pronounced slightly differently.'
'Don't tell me how it's pronounced in Greek,' Orme said. 'I just want to learn Krsh. For the time being, anyway.'
The lesson proceeded rather rapidly after that, though Bronski twice tried to ask when he and Orme would be released from their quarters. Hfathon said they would learn that in due time.
Both of the Marsnauts had excellent memories. In three hours they had mastered the names of twenty artefacts and also learned the names of parts of the human and Krsh bodies.
They had also picked up some short phrases. Of the four forks on the table, the fork nearest to them was shnesh-am-dit. A fork a little more distant was shnesh-aim-dit. A third fork even further away was shnesh-tu-dit. Two forks close to them was shnesh-am-gr-dit. And so on.
Orme had difficulty pronouncing '-gr-' without an intrusive vowel between the g and the r, especially since the r was pronounced with the tip of the tongue near the palate. He failed utterly to master two consonants produced deep in the throat that sounded like ripping sailcloth to him.
Bronski said, 'They have near-equivalents in Arabic. You'll get them eventually.'
'If I don't die of a sore throat first. Anyway, I can't tell the difference between them.'
'Your ear will become tuned.'
The session ended, leaving Orme sweating and tired. His only consolation was that Bronski also looked peaked.
Their tutors left them before supper, but an hour after the two had eaten they reappeared. Orme shut off the TV, which was showing a play of some kind.
It looked to him as if it were the Martian version of a soap opera, but he couldn't be sure. However, during its course, he had recognised four phrases he'd learned earlier. But his attempts to reproduce them aloud had failed.
'Tell them I've had enough Berlitz lessons,' he said.
But they were in for another kind of gruelling session. This was conducted entirely in Greek except when Bronski interpreted for Orme. One question after another was fired at them about the history of Earth since about 50 AD. Occasionally Bronski's Greek failed him; he didn't know a word or a phrase. So many artefacts and social and psychological concepts had come into being since that time. Sometimes he would be able to explain by drawing a picture or a diagram on the electronic screen which Sha'ul had brought in.
Frequently, Hfathon would interrupt him. 'Let's drop that particular matter until later. It's too complicated and will only make us confused. Just give us the main movements in Earth's history.'
But when Bronski tried to do this, he had to go into details.
'So far you've taken us up to what you call the eleventh century AD. That corresponds, if I understand you correctly, to 4961 by the Hebrew reckoning. We'll try to get to the present by the end of tomorrow's session. Then we'll have to backtrack, start from the beginning again, so you can enlighten us on those things which require detail to be comprehended perfectly.'
After hearing the Frenchman's translation of this, Orme said, 'Tell him we're dying of curiosity about them. Ask him if we can't be told how and why they came to Mars. If not, why not?'
Hfathon said, 'We have our reasons for this method of procedure. You must bear with us. After all, you came here uninvited, so you can't expect to be treated as honoured guests. Still, we're enjoined to love the alien in our land as ourselves, because we were once aliens in Egypt. But to relieve your minds, you may know that we have no sinister intentions. Everything that is being done is done for the best. Shalom, my guests.'
Bronski said, 'But I've told you that our shipmates cannot stay in orbit for much more than three weeks. Then they'll have to return to Earth. This imprisonment is insufferable from our viewpoint, anyway. Can't...?'
He stopped. The six had walked out, and the transparent wall was sliding down behind them.
Orme poured out the last of the wine in a bottle which Sha'ul had given him. 'Damn it! I'm so frustrated I could bite nails! Or a Martian! What do you think they're up to, Avram?'
Bronski shrugged his shoulders. His lean aquiline face was set with doubt. 'I don't know. There's nothing we can do except go along with them at their own pace.'
'I'll tell you one thing. I think that all these questions about history are a bunch of bull. They pretend to know nothing of us since 50 AD. But they haven't been keeping their heads in their shells. At least, they shouldn't have. Look at how technologically advanced they are. What's kept them from building another spaceship and going to Earth? Or, if for some reason they haven't done that, though I don't know why they wouldn't, they could easily have been receiving radio waves all these years. It's only logical that they should. So wouldn't they know a lot more about us than they've been pretending to know?'
'It does seem likely,’ Bronski said. 'But maybe they have a reason for not listening in.'
'Would Earth people under similar circumstances deliberately keep themselves in ignorance?'
'I don't know. After all, half of the Martians are descendants of Earth people.'
Orme was silent for a while as he walked back and forth, swinging his arms. He liked and needed hard exercise. Being imprisoned made him feel like a caged tiger. Pushups and kneebends were not adequate. He required exercise that was also fun: tennis, basketball, swimming. The ascetic Bronski, however, seemed quite able to sit or lie down for days without being bored as long as he had something to study.
'The way I get it,' Orme said suddenly, 'is that they're so interested in what happened after 50 AD, if they're not lying, that is, because they know what happened up to that time. Which means that they left Earth then and haven't been back. Or maybe they have been back to observe from a ship, but they don't know the meaning or the details of what they saw. They can get those only from us. So, to fool us into not knowing they do have a general knowledge of events, they get us to tell them the broad story. Then they can lead us into telling the details.'
'It's obvious that the humans are descended from people who were picked up by the Krsh in the first century AD,' Bronski said. 'Beyond that, all is speculation on our part. But if it makes you feel better to guess, go ahead.'
Orme said nothing. After a few minutes Bronski turned on the holographic TV. The show seemed to be a newscast. Orme was interested in it because there were scenes from other places than the cavern in which they were prisoners. He saw two outdoor events, one a festival of some sort and the other a stock-judging contest. Some glimpses of the hollows revealed that the entrances were not only different but that the lighting was provided by many small globes hanging from the ceiling. Another scene was in a large tunnel evidently connecting two of the hollows, A man had been killed by a horse. Though he couldn't understand the newscaster's speech, he had no trouble seeing what had happened.
'One picture is worth ten thousand words,' he muttered.
'What?' Bronski said.
Orme started to repeat himself, but he stopped almost at once.
'Hey, that's us!'
There they were being questioned by the six.
The images were snapped off abruptly; the announcer, a somewhat red- faced, fleshy, old Krsh, said something.
Then another picture flashed on.
Both men leaped out of their chairs. There were Madeleine Danton and Nadir Shirazi getting out of the same kind of vehicle which had carried them from the outside tunnel to their prison. They had their helmets on, and their faces were not visible. But it had to be them.
Orme groaned, and
said, 'So now they've got them! But how?'
5
Orme and Bronski had expected that their colleagues would be brought to their quarters. But on reflection they realised that Shirazi and Danton would have to be quarantined and so placed elsewhere. When their interrogators showed up in the morning, Bronski told them that he had seen the capture on TV.
'Of course,' Hfathon said.
Sha'ul opened a box and began bringing out new artefacts. Bronski got red in the face, and Orme growled.
Hfathon said, 'What troubles you?'
'Apparently you're just going to continue the lessons and not satisfy our curiosity,' Bronski said. 'Don't you have any feelings of empathy, of compassion? Aren't you human? You must know that we're bursting with eagerness to know what happened to our shipmates. Are they all right? How did you get them? What do you plan for them?'
Hfathon's long, lean face remained impassive.
'No, I'm not human, not strictly speaking. But I know what you mean. Yes, I appreciate your feelings. If I were in your situation, I'd burn with impatience. But this committee has been instructed by the Council to tell you nothing. I don't know why; it seems to be a security measure. The Council will tell us in its own good time why these restrictions have been placed.'
'For the love of God,' Bronski said. 'Can't you tell us anything at all?'
'We've been told to teach you our language as swiftly as possible. The Council apparently believes that time is vital. So, let us proceed.'
Upon having this translated, Orme bit his lower lip, and said, 'Avram, you tell these hyenas that we're not cooperating with them until they tell us what's going on. Mum's the word until then.'
Bronski spoke Greek. The six looked grave, but only Hfathon replied.
'We have means to make you co-operate, but we are too humane to use them. Very well. Your comrades are unharmed and in good health. They're in quarters not unlike yours and not distant from here. The woman can't speak any language we know, but the man knows some Hebrew. It isn't quite the language used in our liturgies, but it's close enough for a limited communication. He's been told about you.'
'Ask him how those two were removed from the Aries,' Orme said.
Bronski reported that Hfathon said that the lander had been examined by some Krsh scientists. After determining its methods of operation, two of them had gone up to the ship. They'd been admitted and when the two Earth people had refused to leave, they'd been anaesthetised.
Orme said, shaking his head, 'Can you imagine the consternation on Earth when that scene was transmitted?'
Bronski spoke to Hfathon. 'Did it occur to you that this seizure might be regarded as a hostile act? Are you trying to start a war?'
Ya'aqob said, 'There is no need for war. What we've done has been for your good. It will all be explained in time to the satisfaction of your people. Now, let's get on with the lesson.'
The swift pace of the lesson allowed little time for thinking about anything else. Nevertheless, Orme couldn't help wondering now and then about everyone's reaction on Earth.' What were the governments of the North American Confederation saying about the forcible seizure of their citizens? What about the other nations which were members of the IASA and had contributed funds for this expedition?
Once Ya'aqob spoke sharply to him, saying that he must concentrate more. Orme glowered at him, then decided that he must not antagonise his captors. After that, he smiled often, though it was an effort, and even made some of them laugh when he deliberately made a pun in Krsh. Sha'ul especially seemed to enjoy it. Orme picked him as the person to cultivate, and, perhaps, use later on. The blondish man seemed more open and sympathetic than the others. If he could be talked into revealing more than he was supposed to, he might be the key to their escape.
Though it seemed impossible that he could get back to the lander, Orme had not given up the idea. If he was easily discouraged he would never have become the top astronaut of the NAC.
During the supper break, he turned on the TV. In the middle of a programme about medical research, the images faded out. There was Hfathon seated at a desk, the wall behind him decorated with bright abstract designs. He spoke in Greek for a minute. Bronski, smiling, said, 'They're going to let us talk to Madeleine and Nadir.'
Hfathon disappeared, and they saw their colleagues, each sitting in a chair and staring at them.
'Hey, you two!' Orme cried. 'Are you all right?'
For the next few seconds the four babbled at the same time. Orme called a halt to that.
'We don't know how long they're going to let us talk, so we better get the important stuff out of the way. Tell me, were the transmitters on when you were taken?'
Danton and Shirazi both started to talk. Orme whistled and said, 'You first, Nadir. You outrank Madeleine.'
'The IASA saw everything from the moment the Martians came out into the tunnel,' he said. 'At least, I think so. I know they were receiving up to the moment we let the two men in. It's possible that transmission was blanked out after that.'
'When you saw them get into the lander, what made you decide to admit them? Why didn't you take the Aries out of orbit and return to Earth?'
'It was a difficult decision to make. If we pulled out, we left you two behind. We had no idea what kind of treatment you were getting, good or bad. But it seemed to us that if your captors were friendly, they'd have allowed you to tell us so. We made radio contact with the two Martians when they entered the lander, and they answered - in a totally foreign language. We had told the Centre what was going on, of course, and even with the transmission-lag, there was plenty of time for Carter to make a decision. He said there was no way to determine whether the people in the lander were hostile or not until they came aboard the Aries. And if they were friendly, and we repulsed them, then they might interpret that as hostility on our part. And we might be deserting you two, in effect.
'On the other hand, he didn't want to order us to stay and so possibly endanger us. In the end, he left the decision to us.'
'And so,' Madeleine said, 'he dodged his responsibility. He's a fine administrator, but he's essentially a politician.'
Shirazi smiled and said, 'If he'd ordered us to pull out, I don't know what I'd have done. I didn't want to go. For one thing, it would have meant leaving you in the lurch. It'd be another three years before another ship could have been sent. But even stronger was my curiosity. I could not endure not knowing what had happened to you and what all this was about.'
'And I,' Danton said, 'would have protested strongly if you had decided to return.'
' Did Carter say anything about sending a relief expedition?' Orme said.
'Yes. He swore that another ship would be coming along as swiftly as possible. Of course, he can't determine that. If the funds aren't available...'
'Do you think for one moment that all this hasn't put the public into a frenzy? They'll find the money, you can bet on that!'
Orme paused, then said, 'Okay. Now here's what's happened to us.'
There was a short silence after he had finished. Then Shirazi said, 'So these people are Jews? Including the Krsh?'
'Yes,' Bronski said.
'Yet they mentioned lesous ho Christos, that is, Jesus Christ. And they claimed, by implication anyway, to be Christians?'
The Iranian-Scot was pale. No wonder, Orme thought. He's a Muslim. Maybe he's not orthodox enough to satisfy the more religious of his compatriots, but he was brought up by zealous parents. And he is convinced that Mohammed was the last and the greatest of the prophets, even if he doesn't take literally everything in the Koran, the Moslem scriptures.
But if it was a shock for Shirazi, it had also been one for Orme, the only professed Christian of the four. And Bronski, though not an orthodox Jew, was also disturbed.
What about Danton, who had been raised in a devout Roman Catholic family, though she was now an atheist? She was sitting fairly relaxed, her legs out straight before her, her hands quiet on her lap. She was wearing a ma
roon robe given her by the captors, her slightly thick ankles and broad sandalled feet showing. Her garment hid the too-wide hips and the very narrow waistline but could not conceal the superbly large breasts. She had a rather striking face, broad, high-cheekboned, wide-mouthed, and big-eyed. Her nose was a ^little too long and curved, but it enhanced, rather than detracted from, her features. She'd had two husbands and was said to be a devil to get along with in her laboratory. But her brilliance in her field, biochemistry, and her overall psychological profile had made her one of the four top candidates for the crew. Certainly, during the training and the long flight, she had co-operated fully. She'd had no personality conflicts, and she was congenial enough, if you stayed away from the subject of religion. Then she clammed up, though it was obvious she would like to argue. And had the circumstances been different, she would have.
Perhaps she looked so... serene... because here, finally, would be proof that the founder of her natal religion was only a man. It was obvious that the human beings here had been brought by the Krsh and picked up about 50 AD. It was also obvious that some of them had been acquainted with Jesus.
At least, it seemed to Orme that it was so. These people might have records, writings of eyewitnesses, perhaps even filmed interviews and testimonies from men and women who'd known Jesus intimately.
His heart was beating fast, and he was shaking a little.
Abruptly, Hfathon's image, smaller than the other two, and hanging above them, appeared in the set. He spoke to Bronski, and he disappeared.
The Frenchman said, 'We're being cut off. Good night, you two. Perhaps soon we'll be talking in person.'
The set went blank. Both were silent for a minute.
'I wonder,' Bronski said slowly, 'why the Martians permit the depiction of animal and human life on these sets yet bar it in their art? Theoretically, the Mosaic law should apply to images in TV, too. But then they may not be as orthodox as I'd supposed.'
Orme was somewhat irritated. 'Good God, Avram! Why worry about such a minor thing? We've got real troubles and big questions to consider, so who gives a hoot?'
Jesus On Mars Page 4
