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to havesomeone they can hate."

  "I see," said Dorwin. He permitted himself to look faintly pleased."After all, a Martian can hardly protest what we do with him. I see yourpoint now."

  "You've got it," said Bezdek, beaming now. He leaned forward and added,"Furthermore, we've got four new pictures in the works for the spacecycle that are really going to--"

  He broke off, interrupted by a knock at the door. He stared at thebanker, seeking someone to share his annoyance, found Dorwin staring outthe window, frowning.

  "The train seems to have stopped," said the banker.

  Bezdek turned to the window. It was true. The night was clouded anddark but he could make out a single tree in faint silhouette and it wasnot moving. The knock on the stateroom door came again.

  "I'd better see who it is," said Bezdek, rising. "Maybe something iswrong."

  He opened the door quickly--all but fell back into his seat. The tallyoung man with the too-perfect features--the man who had tried in vainto speak to him at the Kansas City airport, who had been forciblyevicted earlier from the car--stood there!

  The young man smiled and it was much too cold to be ingratiating if thatwas its intent. He said, looking down on both men, "I think you willwish to talk to me now."

  The sheer effrontery of it rendered Cyril Bezdek speechless for thefirst time in years. Looking past the intruder through the angle of theopen door he could see Ty Falter sitting on the corridor floor, leaningagainst the wall. His eyes were closed, his head canted at an odd angle.

  It was Dorwin who first found words. "Who are you?" he inquired. "Whatdo you want?"

  "I am from Mars," said the stranger. "I have come here to enter aprotest against the manner in which Mr. Bezdek's motion pictures areportraying my people."

  The movie-maker's mouth dropped open. He closed it quickly, glancedacross at the banker, saw equal bewilderment on that usually poker-face.On impulse, Bezdek reached for the buzzer that would summon aid andpressed it firmly several times.

  "No one will answer," said the intruder in a voice remarkable not forits accent but for its lack of any. "We have been forced to--toimmobilize this train in order to see you. It has been very difficult toreach you, Mr. Bezdek, I am sure through no fault of your own. But thepeople of my planet feel very strongly about this matter and I must getsome satisfaction for them."

  "So help me," said the mogul, his thin face purple with anger, "if thisis a gag I'll see you jailed for it! And before you're jailed you'regoing to have a very unpleas--"

  "No, Mr. Bezdek--Mr. Dorwin--this is not a joke. We of Mars are proud ofour culture, our civilization. We do not like being portrayed as eviland ridiculous creatures. We're not like those filthy Venerians. WeMartians have a great self-respect."

  "_Ostrich feathers!_" Bezdek roared at the dead-panned intruder. "Youmay not be aware of it but there are severe penalties for holding up atrain on this--in this country. You can't go around slugging peopleeither. Look at Ty out there."

  "Your servant will be all right," said the intruder, "as will the othersaboard this train. I can release them whenever you agree that my missionis to be taken seriously."

  "All right," said Bezdek, whose mind was nothing if not acrobatic."Suppose you are from Mars. Tell me why your people object to ourmovies. Surely they aren't seeing them on Mars?"

  "No. But your Earthmen will reach our planet soon and your opinion of uswill be shaped in some degree by these movies they have seen. And sincethe relationships of the near-future are of vital import to us now wemust not be represented as other than we are. Such misconceptions couldbreed interplanetary war." He shuddered.

  "I think you're crazy!" said Bezdek. He turned to the banker, who wasagain staring out the window.

  "There's something out there--look," said Dorwin.

  "That is our ship," the intruder told them blandly. "That is why westopped the train here. It is the only flat area sufficiently unsettledfor our landing and departure without detection. We must return at onceor lose perihelion."

  "Let me see," said Bezdek. He peered through the window. There _was_something out there--something black and vague and shaped like animmense turtle with jagged projections. He tried to tell himself he wasseeing things, failed.

  "Amazing!" said E. Carter Dorwin. "It's utterly amazing!"

  "Incredible is the word for it," Bezdek said wearily. He faced theintruder, said bluntly, "Very well, you say you're from Mars. And I sayto your face that you aren't!"

  "You seem remarkably sure, Mr. Bezdek."

  "And why not?" The movie-maker was in his element now, delivering theclincher in an argument. "Our scientists have proved conclusively thatEarthmen cannot exist on Mars without space-suits. You say you're aMartian. Yet you look like one of us. So if you can live on Mars, howcan you live in our atmosphere without a space-suit of some sort?There's one for you to answer!" He chortled.

  "But I _am_ wearing protection--a protective suit arranged to give theimpression that I am an Earthman." A flicker of something akin todistaste passed over his singularly immobile face.

  "I'd like to see what you _do_ look like," said Dorwin, suddenlyentering into the eerie conversation.

  Something like a sigh escaped the intruder. Then he said, "Very well. Itis important that you believe me, so--" His hands went to the top of hisscalp and deliberately he peeled the life-like mask slowly from thehidden features of his thoroughly Martian face!

  It was a very odd face--not at all human. It reminded Bezdek a little ofan immutably sad Bassett Hound he kept in his Hollywood kennel. It madeDorwin think of his mother-in-law. It was not a frightening face and thesingle eye in the center of the forehead held them with its mournfulregard, held them, held them ...

  When they were thoroughly under its hypnotic spell the Martian began tospeak softly ...

  * * * * *

  Ty Falter was slow in waking up. But when he realized that he was lyingthere in the corridor he came to with a start. If Bezdek ever found outabout this he'd be cooked as far as Hollywood went!

  He got to his feet, his unsteadiness helped not at all by the fact thatthe train chose that moment to start with a jerk. He grabbed at the wallas a meteor flashed through the dark of the Kansas night outside thewindow.

  Funny, he thought, the damned thing was going _up_, not _down_. But heforgot about the meteor as he heard the voices coming from the stateroomhe was being paid to guard. He reeled over to the partly opened door andlistened.

  Bezdek was talking volubly, enthusiastically as he did when he spoke ofthe actual making of a picture. "... so we'll only have to reshoot a fewsequences, Dorwin. The cost will be nothing compared to the returns.Think of it! Our space-pilot hero crashes on _Venus_. He has to fighthorrible slimy swamp creatures--we can make them look like crocodileswith six or eight legs--to reach the mountaintop where the girl ishiding ..."

  He paused and Dorwin said gravely, "I'm glad, since these space operasseem to be necessary, that you have decided to locate them on a _real_planet like Venus rather than a _fictitious_ one like Mars. If minoritypressure groups force us to use fantasy then it is as well to stay ascredible as possible."

  "Right, Dorwin! Right on the nose!" cried Bezdek. "And we can make realvillains out of these Venerians, real bang-up nasty heavies!"

  The banker's voice came through the door again. He said doubtfully, "Buthow can we be sure about the Venerians ..."

  "Because I can feel it _here_!" cried the movie-maker. The thump thataccompanied his final word told Ty that his boss had smote himselfdramatically over the heart as he delivered the climactic line.

  Transcriber's Note:

  This etext was produced from _Fantastic Universe_ May 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.

 

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