When next Lynne woke up, Rolf was there, his hair still wet with snow.
Lynne’s heart went out to him in a manner that left her, weak and spent
as she was, aware that she had never been so glad to see anyone in her
life, even the baby. His eyes were suspiciously moist.
“Well, my _zwirchy_ darling,” he said, “you went and did it.”
“I’ll have them bring the baby in,” she said.
“I just had a look at him,” Rolf told her. “I’m the proudest father on
Mars.” He lit a cigarette and handed it to her. Then he lit another for
himself. “I don’t know if you’re marked ‘Fragile, don’t break’ but I’d
like very much to kiss you.”
“Since when did you ever ask to kiss me--or any girl!” said Lynne,
reaching for him.
“They couldn’t hold me on Earth,” said Rolf, standing up and exhaling
twin plumes of smoke through his nostrils. “With you using the team
on the cattle at Patagonia, I got the pickup on Earth. When you and
Revere and Rana start TP’ing, the whole Solar System gets it. Wild
_czanworms_ couldn’t have held me.”
“But I flopped,” said Lynne, feeling safe and comfortable and secure,
merely having Rolf on the same planet with her. “You had to come up
with the snowstorm idea.”
Rolf grinned. “Didn’t you ever see anyone come along and put the last
piece in a jigsaw puzzle?” he asked.
Lynne said, “Come back here.” She held out her arms.
It was three full Mars-days later when Lynne, Rolf, the baby--whose
name was, by unanimous decision, Martin Juarez Marcein--Revere Fenlay
and Rana Willis flew back to Nampura Depot, with Rolf at the controls.
The time had been employed, not only in preparing the infant for
travel, but for testing and re-testing the processed cattle, until all
were satisfied that the zombies’ power had again been broken--this
time, it was hoped, for good.
Revere Fenlay said, “I hope this does it for keeps.”
Rolf replied, thoughtfully, “So do I. But I’d like to be sure they’re
safely contained in their new bodies.”
“I’ll never eat steak again,” said Rana, shivering.
“Neither will I--without mushrooms,” said Lynne. She looked backward,
to check the baby, who was sleeping peacefully.
Rolf and Revere Fenlay raised their voices in the old Martian refrain,
“There’ll never be brisket on Mars. For that we must go to the stars.
Give me some tablets with vitamin Q. If you don’t like it, to Earthside
with you!”
It was dark when they reached the Depot under a blazing Martian night
sky that looked to Lynne definitely less spectacular than it had a mere
Martian year before.
With the new baby safely asleep in his incubator, they crossed the hall
to visit Rana and Tony Willis, leaving Revere and Lao Mei to watch the
tot.
They found Tony up to his elbows in baby-suds in the bathroom.
Regarding them fondly, he said, “Congratulations, Lynne. I hear you
were tactful enough to provide Ranita with a future boy-friend.”
“If I know kids,” Rana said, “they probably won’t speak to each other,
except to bring down the other one’s crushes.”
“When were you ever a child?” Tony Willis asked.
“She’s still a child,” said Lynne. “And a truly _zwirchy_ child,
too. So stop kicking each other around.”
“Well,” said Tony, thoughtfully. “When I had the time, which was
_farbish_ seldom, I did miss the little character.”
Rolf, who had appeared to be in a brown study, came out of it with,
“You know, _czanworms_, we ought to help Tony out.”
“Take over,” said Tony, nodding toward the sink full of baby wash.
Rolf made a gesture of disdain. “Use your wits, man,” he said. “You and
I are going to pay a visit to New Samarkand. _On business._”
“What business?” asked Tony.
Lynne and Rana, being TP’s, were already laughing.
“What do you think?” Rolf asked. “We’ve got to get busy and start a
diaper service. If you think I’m going through what you’ve been through
for the last week, you’re mad!”
Transcriber’s note:
This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe, June 1956 (Vol. 5,
No. 5.). Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
copyright on this publication was renewed.
Obvious errors have been silently corrected in this version.