Grumbles From The Grave — Robert A. Heinlein — (1989)

“That’s the slant, son. But it’s right for him to go with the Martians because they know how to take care of him, when he needs it. You saw that when you were with them.”

“Yes.” Jim added, “Can I visit him?”

“He won’t know you. He’ll be asleep.”

“Well-look, when he wakes up, will he know me?”

MacRae looked grave. He had asked the old one the same question. “Yes,” he answered truthfully, “he’ll have all his memory intact.” He did not give Jim the rest of the answer-that the transition period would last more than forty Earth years.

“Well, that won’t be so bad. I’m going to be awfully busy in school right now, anyhow.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Jim looked up Frank and they went to their old room, vacant of womenfolk at the moment. Jim cradled Willis in his arms and told Frank what Doc had told him. Willis listened, but the conversation was apparently over the little Martian’s depth; Willis made no comment.

Presently Willis became bored with it and started to sing. The selection was the latest Willis had heard, the tango Frank had presented to Jim: iQuien es la Sefiorita?

When it was over Frank said, “You know, Willis sounds exactly like a girl when he sings that.”

Jim chuckled. “iQuien es la Seftorita, Willis?”

Willis managed to look indignant. “Willis fine boy!” she insisted.

APPENDIX B

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Postlude to Podkayne of Mars — Original Version

| The editor at Putnam’s was unhappy with Heinlein’s original ending for Podkayne of Mars. Heinlein therefore made some changes to satisfy his requirements. In the published version, Podkayne survives; in Heinlein’s original, she did not.]

POSTLUDE

I guess I had better finish this.

My sister got right to sleep after I rehearsed her in what we were going to do. I stretched out on the floor but didn’t go right to sleep. I’m a worrier, she isn’t. I reviewed my plans, trying to make them tighter. Then I slept.

I Ve got one of those built-in alarm clocks and I woke just when I planned to, an hour before dawn. Any later and there would be too much chance that Jojo might be loose, any curlier and there would be too much time in the dark. The Venus bush is chancy even when you can see well; I didn’t wiinl Poddy to step into something sticky, or step on something that would turn and bite her leg off. Nor me, either.

Hut we had to risk the bush, or stay and let old Gruesome kill us at her convenience. The first was a sporting t hunce; the latter was a dead certainty, even though I had a terrible time convincing Poddy that Mrs. Grew would kill us. Poddy’s greatest weakness-the really soft place in her head, she’s not too stupid otherwise-is her almost total inability to grasp that some people are as bad as they are. Evil. Poddy never has understood evil. Naughtiness is about as far as her imagination reaches.

But I understand evil, I can get right inside the skull of a person like Mrs. Grew and understand how she thinks.

Perhaps you infer from this that I am evil, or partly so. All right, want to make something of it? Whatever / am, I knew Mrs. Grew was evil before we ever left the Tri-corn…when Poddy (and even Girdie!) thought the slob was just too darling for words.

I don’t trust a person who laughs when there is nothing to laugh about. Or is good-natured no matter what happens. If it’s that perfect, it’s an act, a phony. So I watched her…and cheating at solitaire wasn’t the only giveaway.

So between the bush and Mrs. Grew, I chose the bush, both for me and my sister.

Unless the air car was there and we could swipe it. This would be a mixed blessing, as it would mean two of them to cope with, them armed and us not. (I don’t count a bomb as an arm, you can’t point it at a person’s head.)

Before I woke Poddy I took care of that alate pseudo-simian, that “fairy.” Vicious little beast. I didn’t have a gun. But I didn’t really want one at that point; they understand about guns and are hard to hit, they’ll dive on you at once.

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