"N-no," said the Speaker, puzzled.
"The theory is that they are incapable of dishonesty, and therefore
they do not believe it exists. Of course, it's only a theory, and
nobody believes it, but why couldn't we try it out?"
The Speaker was startled. "You mean we should give them our word, and
then back out on it?"
"Yes," the Japanese sucked in his breath. He saw the hesitation on the
Speaker's face, and said with icy, mocking disdain, "Are you going
to give water to a race whose sole purpose will be to increase their
population so they can conquer Earth? Think, fool! Do you want to
hold that sphere of water in your hands forever?" He smirked. "In the
interval of peace, we can go to the Maracot Deep, lift that sunken ship
out without having to worry about a surface film. We can take it to dry
land, and with a little work, cut the ship open, destroy the mechanism.
With that destroyed--"
His contempt, and his reference to the maddening sphere of water the
Speaker held, wilted the Speaker.
"We'll do it," he said slowly, casting an uneasy look at the sprawled
Martian.
* * * * *
Thirty minutes later, the three men watched the sphere of water in the
Speaker's hands. A radiogram had been sent across 126,000,000 miles to
Mars. Mars' answer, if it was affirmative and entirely trusting, would
come not in the form of a radiogram but in the immediate return of
Earth to its natural fluid state.
They watched the rigid sphere in fascination. Even now, the radio
signal that would cause the mechanism to cease might be winging its way
across space between two planets.
When the sphere broke, if it did, three billion thirsty human beings
would drink with the maddening impatience of Tantalus himself, released
from his eternal doom.
... The sphere seemed to quiver. Suddenly it sagged, flattened out
without a sound, its sphericity gone. The Speaker uttered a cry, and
dashed his hands to his face, gulping in as much of the precious stuff
as he could before it dribbled away from his hands. The Japanese and
Spanish Governors turned rapidly to faucets, and the water, clear,
sparkling, normal, streamed out....
For a short time the three of them were like animals. Then, gradually,
they stopped drinking, and stood back, slightly ashamed.
The Spanish Governor said, suggestively, "We'd better get that ship
fished out before the Martians realize they are not going to get water
after all. Otherwise--"
The Speaker nodded. He turned away, to go into his study, when he
stumbled over the prone body of Olduk, the Martian. A twinge of guilt
assailed him. He stooped and turned Olduk over.
Olduk's double-lidded eyes were open. Olduk's skin was as dry as his
native sands. Olduk was either dead or dying.
The Speaker troubledly called a doctor. The doctor made a brief
examination, handling the body distastefully. Suddenly he stifled an
exclamation.
"I can't believe this!" he said hoarsely. He got to his feet, stared
first at the Speaker, then at Olduk again.
"Do you know what he died from?" he stammered. "Do you know, gentlemen!"
And the Speaker knew.
* * * * *
The Master Conclave was again assembled, for the fourth and last day,
its members well-watered, and well satisfied with themselves.
The Speaker said, standing on the rostrum where Olduk had stood four
days before, "I want to make a short talk, and call for a standing vote.
"Earth has water again. We acquired it by a simple trick, that of
dishonesty. I was fully to blame. Men are now at work in the Maracot
Deep, in super-tension ships raising the Martian ship to the surface.
There is no reason to doubt that a means to destroy the mechanism
that caused so much trouble will be found. We won't have to keep our
agreement with the Martians. I want to know if this action of mine
meets with your approval."
The entire body stood to its feet.
"We were forced to it," the Japanese Governor said to the assembly at
large.
The Speaker waved them to their seats again. "I did not call for a
standing vote, yet. I have more to say before I ask for your filial
decision."
He resumed carefully, giving each word its proper significance.
"The Old Duck was a Martian--but in body he was not a Martian. He told
us that. He had been changed with 'sundry operations,' so that he could
live in this climate, so different from that of Mars. Air pressure,
oxygen content, moisture, content gravity. To each he was acclimated by
surgical operations.
"Yes," continued the Speaker, something catching in his voice, "he
was changed in such a way that the terrific amount of moisture in the
atmosphere of the Earth could be taken care of by his body. In order
to make that possible, _his twelve-foot body was given a capacity for
water proportionately three times greater than that of any Terrestrial_!
"Gentlemen," said the Speaker, while an air of startled tenseness grew
in the tiered seats, "Olduk died of thirst."
He was silent.
He said strainedly, "I wanted to know if my action of deceit met with
your approval. I require a standing vote."
The Japanese Governor rose slowly. He had to. He sent a look at the
Spanish Governor. The Spanish Governor kept his seat.
The Japanese Governor stood alone, like a monument to the thoughtless
guilt of the others.
* * * * *
The Speaker sat that night before his desk, drinking a glass of water.