The Third Frank Belknap Long Science Fiction by Frank Belknap Long

Author:Frank Belknap Long
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: science fiction, sci-fi, pulp, short stories, astounding
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2016-09-18T16:00:00+00:00

MARTIAN HOMECOMING

Originally appeared in Future Combined with Science Fiction Stories, March 1951.

Jim Malden sat with his back to the metal wall of the shack, staring out gloomily into the driven rain. He was huge and hairy-chested, and he sat now with the light of a swollen fire reddening his flesh.

His wife threw another log into the fire and turned with an angry shrug. “Stop brooding, Jim!” she complained. “We came to Mars of our own free will. There’s nothing on Earth I miss! Nothing, you hear?”

“It’s all right for you to talk!” Jim said. “It don’t take so much to make a woman happy. A woman never takes to craving things the way a man does.”

“What things?” Mary Malden flared. “We’ve got a roof over our heads, haven’t we? When you broke your hand and had to quit the ring you never talked that way. No, sir! You were mighty grateful for a chance to start over on Mars!”

“What did we get?” Jim grumbled. “A roof over our heads, sure. A settler’s grant of five grand. But what else?”

“You dare to ask me that?” Mary raged. “The best years of my life I’ve given you, Jim Malden. I’ve slaved and denied myself and gone without—”

“Let’s not quarrel, Mary!” Jim said, wearily.

He stood up and ran trembling fingers over his calloused, misshapen right fist. He saw again the light-drenched stadium on Earth, his opponent sparring for an opening, the drifting faces of the crowd. He shut his eyes and the bright, splendid vision was gone.

The pinched, gray face of his wife stared at him out of the flickering firelight, her pupils questioning. She was thirty-four, but she looked fifty. Her hair straggled; her cheeks were sallow, and her lips were a tight, thin line.

A sudden tenderness and gratefulness came upon Jim Malden. He went up to her and patted her gently on the shoulder. “You’re all right, old girl!” he said. “Better get on with the supper now.”

“You’re a good man, Jim!” Mary said, her eyes suddenly moist. “A fine figure of a man. You’ve been a good husband to me.”

“Forget it,” Jim said.

“It’s the emptiness, the loneliness,” Mary said. “I feel it too, Jim—especially at night. We’ve a colony here; we’re all together, warm and friendly like we’d be in a little country town on Earth. But there’s a difference too!”

“Sure there is,” Jim agreed. “The land isn’t friendly; that’s the big difference. It’s just rock and sand, sand and more sand, blowing, drifting around. The canals are either dried up or filled with stagnant water. There’s no good, clean moonlight or fresh running water.”

Jim Malden forced a grin. “But there’s nothing wrong with our neighbors, Mary. No man has a right to fret and complain when he’s got a wife like you and good friends to stand by him. It’s the folks who make a place, Mary.”

“Listen!” Mary said.

Outside the shack there arose a shrill clamor. Running footsteps pattered along the quay and a child’s terrified scream drowned out the distant boom of a warning rocket.

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