The Martian Chronicles. Ray Bradbury

in the thin air. ‘Grandma! Grandpa!’ cried Lustig.

      Two old people stood in the doorway.

      ‘David!’ their voices piped, and they rushed out to embrace and pat him on the back and move around him. ‘David, oh, David, it’s been so many years! How you’ve grown, boy; how big you are, boy! Oh, David boy, how are you?’

      ‘Grandma, Grandpa!’ sobbed David Lustig. ‘You look fine, fine!’ He held them, turned them, kissed them, hugged them, cried on them, held them out again, blinking at the little old people. The sun was in the sky, the wind blew, the grass was green, the screen door stood wide.

      ‘Come in, boy, come in. There’s iced tea for you, fresh; lots of it!’

      ‘I’ve got friends here.’ Lustig turned and waved at the captain and Hinkston frantically, laughing. ‘Captain, come on up.’

      ‘Howdy,’ said the old people. ‘Come in. Any friends of David’s are our friends too. Don’t stand there!’

      In the living-room of the old house it was cool, and a grandfather clock ticked high and long and bronzed in one corner. There were soft pillows on large couches and walls filled with books and a rug cut in a thick rose pattern, and iced tea in the hand, sweating, and cool on the thirsty tongue.

      ‘Here’s to our health.’ Grandma tipped her glass to her porcelain teeth.

      ‘How long have you been here, Grandma?’ said Lustig.

      ‘Ever since we died,’ she said tartly.

      ‘Ever since you what?’ Captain John Black set down his glass.

      ‘Oh yes.’ Lustig nodded. ‘They’ve been dead thirty years.’

      ‘And you sit there calmly!’ shouted the captain.

      ‘Tush.’ The old woman winked glitteringly. ‘Who are you to question what happens? Here we are. What’s life, anyway? Who does what for why and where? All we know is here we are, alive again, and no questions asked. A second chance.’ She toddled over and held out her thin wrist. ‘Feel.’ The captain felt. ‘Solid, ain’t it?’ she asked. He nodded. ‘Well, then,’ she said triumphantly, ‘why go around questioning?’

      ‘Well,’ said the captain, ‘it’s simply that we never thought we’d find a thing like this on Mars.’

      ‘And now you’ve found it. I dare say there’s lots on every planet that’ll show you God’s infinite ways.’

      ‘Is this Heaven?’ asked Hinkston.

      ‘Nonsense, no. It’s a world and we get a second chance. Nobody told us why. But then nobody told us why we were on Earth, either. That other Earth, I mean. The one you came from. How do we know there wasn’t another before that one?’

      ‘A good question,’ said the captain.

      Lustig kept smiling at his grandparents. ‘Gosh, it’s good to see you. Gosh, it’s good.’

      The captain stood up and slapped his hand on his leg in a casual fashion. ‘We’ve got to be going. Thank you for the drinks.’

      ‘You’ll be back, of course,’ said the old people. ‘For supper tonight?’

      ‘We’ll try to make it, thanks. There’s so much to be done. My men are waiting for me back at the rocket and—’

      He stopped. He looked towards the door, startled.

      Far away in the sunlight there was a sound of voices, a shouting and a great hello.

      ‘What’s that?’ asked Hinkston.

      ‘We’ll soon find out.’ And Captain John Black was out of the front door abruptly, running across the green lawn into the street of the Martian town.

      He stood looking at the rocket. The ports were open and his crew was streaming out, waving their hands. A crowd of people had gathered, and in and through and among these people the members of the crew were hurrying, talking, laughing, shaking hands. People did little dances. People swarmed. The rocket lay empty and abandoned.

      A brass band exploded in the sunlight, flinging off a gay tune from upraised tubas and trumpets. There was a bang of drums and a shrill of fifes. Little girls with golden hair jumped up and down. Little boys shouted, ‘Hooray!’ Fat men passed around ten-cent cigars. The town mayor made a speech. Then each member of the crew, with a mother on one arm, a father or sister on the other, was spirited off down the street into little cottages or big mansions.

      ‘Stop!’ cried Captain Black.

      The doors slammed shut.

      The heat rose in the clear spring sky, and all was silent. The brass band banged off around a corner, leaving the rocket to shine and dazzle alone in the sunlight.

      ‘Abandoned!’ said the captain. ‘They abandoned the ship, they did! I’ll have their skins, by God! They had orders!’

      ‘Sir,’ said Lustig, ‘don’t be too hard on them. Those were all old relatives and friends.’

      ‘That’s no excuse!’

      ‘Think how they felt, Captain, seeing familiar faces outside the ship!’

      ‘They had their orders, damn it!’

      ‘But how would you have felt, Captain?’

      ‘I would have obeyed orders—’ The captain’s mouth remained open.

      Striding along the sidewalk under the Martian sun, tall, smiling, eyes amazingly clear and blue, came a young man of some twenty-six years. ‘John!’ the man called out, and broke into a trot.

      ‘What?’ Captain John Black swayed.

      ‘John, you old son of a bitch!’

      The man ran up and gripped his hand and slapped him on the back.

      ‘It’s you,’ said Captain Black.

      ‘Of course, who’d you think it was?’

      ‘Edward!’ The captain appealed now to Lustig and Hinkston, holding the stranger’s hand. ‘This is my brother Edward. Ed, meet my men, Lustig, Hinkston! My brother!’