Her two visitors, on the other hand, seemed to take the firing very seriously — seemed to be praying for the success of the shot. They were a man and a woman, a Mr. George M. Helmholtz and his secretary, a Miss Roberta Wiley. Miss Wiley was a funny-looking little old thing, but very alert and witty.
The rocket went up with a roar.
It was a flawless shot.
Helmholtz sat back and heaved a manly sigh of relief. Then he smiled and beat his thick thighs exuberantly. “By glory — ” he said, “I’m proud to be an American — and proud to be living in the time I do.”
“Would you like something to drink?” said Beatrice.’
“Thank you very much — ” said Helmholtz, “but I daren’t mix business with pleasure.”
“Isn’t the business all over?” said Beatrice. “Haven’t we discussed everything?”
“Well — Miss Wiley and I had hoped to take an inventory of the larger buildings on the grounds,” said Helmholtz, “but I’m afraid it’s gotten quite dark. Are there floodlights?”
Beatrice shook her head. “Sorry,” she said.
“Perhaps you have a powerful flashlight?” said Helmholtz.
“I can probably get you a flashlight,” said Beatrice, “but I don’t think it’s really necessary for you to go out there. I can tell you what all the buildings are.” She rang for the butler, told him to bring a flashlight. “There’s the tennis house, the greenhouse, the gardener’s cottage, what used to be the gate house, the carriage house, the guest house, the tool shed, the bath house, the kennel, and the old water tower.”
“Which one is the new one?” said Helmholtz.
“The new one?” said Beatrice.
The butler returned with a flashlight, which Beatrice gave to Helmholtz.
“The metal one,” said Miss Wiley.
“Metal?” said Beatrice puzzled. “There aren’t any metal buildings. Maybe some of the weathered shingles have kind of a silvery look.” She frowned. “Did somebody tell you there was a metal building here?”
“We saw it when we came in,” said Helmholtz. “Right by the path — in the undergrowth near the fountain,” said Miss Wiley.
“I can’t imagine,” said Beatrice.
“Could we go out and have a look?” said Helmholtz.
“Yes — of course,” said Beatrice, rising.
The party of three crossed the zodiac on the foyer floor, moved into the balmy dark.
The flashlight beam danced before them. “Really — ” said Beatrice, “I’m as curious to find out what it is as you are.”
“It looks like kind of a prefabricated thing made out of aluminum,” said Miss Wiley.
“It looks like a mushroom-shaped water tank or something,” said Helmholtz, “only it is squatting right on the ground.”
“Really?” said Beatrice.
“You know what I said it was, don’t you?” said Miss Wiley.
“No — ” said Beatrice, “what did you say it was?”
“I have to whisper,” said Miss Wiley playfully, “or somebody will want to lock me up in the crazy house.” She put her hand to her mouth, directing her loud whisper to Beatrice. “Flying saucer,” she said.
chapter four
TENT RENTALS
Rented a tent, a tent, a tent;
Rented a tent, a tent, a tent.
Rented a tent!
Rented a tent!
Rented a, rented a tent.
— SNARE DRUM ON MARS
The men had marched to the parade ground to the sound of a snare drum. The snare drum had this to say to them:
Rented a tent, a tent, a tent;
Rented a tent, a tent, a tent.
Rented a tent!
Rented a tent!
Rented a, rented a tent.
They were an infantry division of ten thousand men, formed in a hollow square on a natural parade ground of solid iron one mile thick. The soldiers stood at attention on orange rust. They shivered rigidly, being as much like iron as they could be — both officers anti men. Their uniforms were a rough-textured, frosty green — the color of lichens.
The army had come to attention in utter silence. No audible or visible signal had been given. They had come to attention as a man, as though through a stupendous coincidence.
The third man in the second squad of the first platoon of the second company of the third battalion of the second regiment of the First Martian Assault Infantry Division was a private who had been broken from lieutenant-colonel three years before. He had been on Mars for eight years.