Jesus On Mars

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by Philip José Farmer


  'Dissidence and discontent in Heaven,' he said.

  He felt a draught and turned around. A Krsh male and female had entered and were going to a table at a far corner. They had obviously been drinking on the way.

  'The Krsh, too,' he said.

  'Why not?' Gulthilo said. 'They're sentient, therefore human. Look, we're not evil, just moderately bad. Our sins are little ones. He'll forgive us. That is, he will if he ever catches us.’

  'And if you're caught? You have to go through that horrible humiliation.'

  She drank again. 'I think that the difference between us sinners and you of Earth is that we're willing to pay the price. From what I've heard, you aren't very responsible.'

  'I haven't heard anybody talk about sin and sinners since I left my parents' house,’ he said. 'It is refreshing, in a way.'

  Gulthilo put her hand on his arm. 'Well, what about it? Have you made up your mind yet?'

  He thrilled at the touch but moved his hand away. Almost automatically, he raised his glass for another drink, then he put it down. The liquor was drowning his inhibitions. A few more swallows and he'd ask her to go out into the bushes with him. And that would be the same as a proposal of marriage. Or would it? What had she said about making love?

  'Listen,' he said fiercely, 'have you just been keeping yourself pure, with me, that is, so I'd marry you? You haven't been having lovers all the time you've been telling me how much you love me and how much you want to marry me?' She laughed and said, 'I told you I was bold and brash. What I'm not going to tell you is whether or not I've had lovers. That has nothing to do with my love for you. Anyway, even if I'd had lovers, I would be faithful to you if we got married. But, again, you've evaded answering me.'

  He said nothing. She drank again, laughed again, and said, 'You're jealous!'

  'All right, so I am. So what?'

  There was a long silence between them. A tall brown-bearded man come to the table.

  'The break is almost over, Gulthilo. Ah'hab says he wants to close early. Three more pieces and we quit.'

  'Can you get along without me?' Gulthilo said. 'We're talking about getting married.'

  The bandleader looked surprised, but he nodded, and left. 'Now,' Gulthilo said, 'maybe we can thrash out the obstacles you think exist.'

  'We've already gone over...'

  He stopped. Two men were standing across from each other at a nearby table and bellowing insults and threats. The apparent cause of this locking of horns, a busty redhead, was trying to calm the two but without success. Suddenly, one of the men, broad-shouldered, black-bearded, and green-eyed, reached across the table and grabbed the other by the robe. This man, taller but slimmer, blond, and blue-eyed, struck the aggressor in the face. The woman shrieked and fell off her chair. The table was overturned as the two males rolled on the floor.

  Orme got out of his chair and backed away. A man hurrying to aid one of the fighters, or to break it up, bumped hard into Orme and sent him sprawling. He rolled over and looked up just in time to see Gulthilo kick the man in the ribs. He went sideways, flying further than he would have in Earth's gravity, and collided with the bartender just as he leaped over the bar.

  A dark-haired woman, screeching, attacked Gulthilo with clawing hands. The blonde rammed a fist into the pit of the brunette's stomach, and the stricken woman vomited on to Gulthilo. Another woman, undoubtedly one of the brunette's friends, hooked her arm around Gulthilo's neck from the back and, her knee against the blonde's spine, pulled her back.

  Orme came off the floor like a grasshopper, soared, landed just behind the brunette, and seized her. Immediately, someone slammed a fist against the side of his head. Stunned, he fell down, but he managed to kick the legs of his attacker from under him. Yowling with pain, the man started to get to his feet. Orme kicked him on the chin, and he was out of the fight for a while. ,

  'No violence! No violence!' the bartender shouted. His nose was bleeding; one ear looked as if it had been chewed on. His opponent, just as bloody as he, was crawling on the floor, shaking his head.

  Nobody paid any attention to him. It was doubtful that anyone heard him but Orme. The entire place had erupted into a scratch-or-slugfest. Orme got up unsteadily and looked for Gulthilo. It took him a minute to locate her in the melee. She was straddling the chest of the brunette and banging her head on the floor.

  Orme started towards her. A woman bit his calf. He drove the butt of his palm against the top of her head and she opened her mouth; he kicked her away.

  It wasn't easy to drag Gulthilo off her now half-senseless victim. She screamed and writhed and clawed backward, raking his face, before she realised who he was.

  'Let's get out of here!' he shouted, and he started to propel her towards the door. 'Why should I?' she yelled, still struggling. 'This is fun!'

  'Somebody's going to get badly hurt or even killed!' he shouted.

  She shrilled, 'Yooow!' and reached out and yanked savagely on the ear of a man wrestling with another. The man clapped a hand to his ear, at which the other took advantage of the opening and hit him in the throat with his fist.

  Angry, Orme shoved Gulthilo ahead of him. She stumbled and fell on her knees. Two cursing men fell over her. She grabbed one by the testicles and squeezed. He screamed and, writhing, rolled away. The other man lacked gratitude. He slapped her across the face so hard that she crumpled onto one side of the floor. Orme kicked him in the chin.

  Gulthilo was knocked half out of her wits, enabling Orme to get her to her feet without protest. He was close to the door when the blast of a trumpet cut through the uproar. This was followed by a rapid ratatatat on a drum. A voice bellowed, 'Stop it! The police are here!'

  Silence except for some moans and groans and a whimper.

  Whistles were shrilling outside. Then, a banging on the door.

  'Open up in the name of the law!'

  The bartender, Ah'hab, staggered to the door and shot a massive wooden bolt across it. Turning, he shouted, 'Everybody follow me! Pick up the wounded!'

  He ran to the door to one side of the bandstand, paused in the frame, and gestured to the crowd. Orme helped Gulthilo to her feet. Supporting her, he got her to the door. For a minute there was a jam as everybody tried to get through at the same time. Then it broke, and he got her through into a wide but short hallway. The proprietor did something around the edges of the wall at the end, and the wall slid downward. Beyond was a narrow stairway. This led spiralling through a passageway cut out of the stone.

  Orme helped Gulthilo down it into a large room. At the other end was the opening to a tunnel.

  Ah'hab had not come down. From the top of the staircase, he yelled, 'Follow the tunnel, and when you come out, run! I'm staying! They're probably already at my house, so there's no way I'm going to get out of this! Don't worry! I won't tell them your names!'

  Those who were able to do so cheered, feebly. The wall slid back up.

  The bandleader said, 'All right. Do as he said. I'll turn the lights off after you're out, and I'll close the tunnel door.'

  By now Gulthilo was able to walk on her own. She went ahead of Orme through the lighted tunnel. After about a hundred yards, the tunnel began curving upward. Soon it ended in a trapdoor above a short flight of steps. The big burly man who had started the brawl put his back against the trapdoor and heaved. It rose slowly, dirt falling around it on to him, and then it was open.

  Orme came out into the shadow of a big tree. He seemed to be in the middle of a wood. Nearby, a small creek gleamed where the moonlight fell through the branches. An owl hooted, and a tiny creature ran out from the darkness. The owl swooped down, struck, and lifted with the little animal in its talons.

  'That's us,' Gulthilo whispered. 'The owl's the police.'

  'How'd you get here?' he said. 'In a car or bicycle?'

  'In a car with some friends. Fortunately, we took the precaution of wearing gloves so we wouldn't leave fingerprints if there was a raid. But the police will know which
lots the cars came from. They'll be questioning everybody in the neighbourhood.'

  Orme groaned. 'My prints are on the wheel of my car.'

  'Just tell them you stopped off to eat and you knew nobody here. You'll be questioned, but it'll be all right if you stick to your story. Poor Ah'hab! He'll suffer, his family will be so ashamed.'

  'He knew what could happen.'

  The group, which had at first huddled closely together under the tree, began to disperse. Whistles began sounding. The police were spreading out and would soon be beating the woods. Orme and Gulthilo took a wide curve through the trees, and after some floundering around came out on a road. She said that this was the same road that ran in front of the inn. They walked along it, occasionally trotting, ready to run into the trees if they saw any light.

  'Here's where we part,' she said. 'I have to take the left road. You continue ahead until you come to the highway. Go left on it, and you'll soon come to familiar territory.' She paused. 'Unless you want to come home with me.'

  'No. It's not that I don't want to. But they'll have my fingerprints. If they should find me with you, they'll know you were at Ah'hab's.'

  'Well?'

  He didn't have to ask her what she meant.

  He took her in her arms and kissed her passionately. Releasing her, he said, 'Very well. We'll get married.'

  She smiled, but she said, 'You love me?'

  'I either love you or I'm crazy. I'm not sure which.'

  'You're crazy with love.'

  She kissed him lightly, and said, 'This is a very strange place and situation for a marriage proposal. But I love it. Shalom, Richard.'

  He turned at once and began trotting. After a while he resumed a slower pace. The moon was beginning to brighten into the sun. He'd be caught in full daylight before long. Walking was silly, so he started looking for a car. After ten minutes he found one parked in front of a farm house. He climbed in and drove off hastily because a dog was barking inside the house. Not more than ten minutes had passed when he felt a touch on his right shoulder. That startled him so much he drove off the road and almost into a tree. He looked around, saw a man sitting in the seat just back of him, and he slammed on the brakes. The car slid sideways, coming to a stop on the brakes. The car slid sideways, coming to a stop with its front wheels near a ditch.

  'Jesus! You startled me!'

  Then, 'How in... She'ol... did you get on?'

  The man in the blue robe climbed over the back into the seat beside him.

  'That's a stupid question. I'm sorry I startled you, but it was funny.'

  'You might have got us both killed.'

  'Not me. Drive on.'

  Orme's heart was hammering, and he was shaking. Nevertheless, he backed on to the road without mishap.

  After a while, Jesus said, 'The police would have picked you up, both of you, a long time ago, but I asked them not to.'

  'Thanks,' Orme said. He tried to sound casual, but his voice quivered.

  'May I ask why?'

  'You may. Nobody is going to be arrested. Ah'hab ben-Ram will be questioned severely and then released. He may be frightened enough to close up his place or ensure that it's used only for legitimate purposes. Some of his patrons will just go to other places like this. Most, I hope, will see the folly of their ways and settle down.

  'You must understand that the police are aware of these places and have been since their establishment. In fact, not one has ever gone long undetected in the past fifteen hundred years. But the police are very tolerant. These places are a sort of safety valve for the rebellious youth. They get drunk, and they tell each other their rebellious thoughts. Sometimes, .they even plan some wild action, but these plans are seldom carried out. If they are, they're quickly squashed. The participants pay a high price.'

  'May I ask what the price is?'

  'You may. The hard-necked culprits are sent to a certain cavern where they stay until the police are sure that they have truly repented. I examine these professors of repentance myself. That way, there is no deceit possible.'

  Jesus's cold tone chilled Orme.

  'And what happens to those who don't repent?'

  'It's best not to ask. However, only a very slight percentage of the young ever get there. You must realise, Richard, that there is such a thing as true evil. From what I've been told, you of the social democracies have abandoned the concept of good and evil. Now it's a matter of the disadvantaged, of bad social and economic conditions, of bad parents, of incorrect conditioning. The communists believe that incorrect thoughts and acts are the result of misapplied economics and wrong political thinking. Am I right?'

  'It's much more complicated than that. In essence you're right.'

  Jesus said, 'You know that here on Mars there are no disadvantaged, no bad social, political or economic conditions. Family life is generally a joy, and the harsh or unjust parent is quickly reprimanded by his relatives. If that doesn't help the situation, then the neighbourhood steps in.

  'We've been able to form this situation because we started out as a very small community. The human members came from many races and nations, but it only took three generations to make one race. Then they had but one religion and language, and of course the early humans had as an example the Krsh, who were more advanced.'

  He paused. 'And they also had me.'

  He paused again. 'Earth will have me, too, in the near future.'

  Orme said, 'If I may be so bold, Rabbi, Earth is a much bigger place than Mars. You have a million only to watch over. But we number ten billion, and Earth has a tremendous variety of tongues, races, nations, customs, and institutions.'

  'You may be so bold. Quit being so uneasy, so humble. Relax.'

  'I can't.'

  'Because of who I am. Despite my great powers, I've never been able to get anybody to relax completely in my presence - except for one person. That is the price I pay for being the Messiah, the Merciful One's adopted son.'

  Orme summoned up his courage.

  'May... who is that one person?'

  'My wife. Ah, here we are. My house. Just beyond that house with the onion-shaped roof. Stop in front of it. I could levitate from the car, but I don't like these tricks in my own neighbourhood.'

  Ornate was so astonished that he almost drove past the indicated building. His passengers got out, said 'Shalom,' and walked up to the front door. It was a large house, though modest for the Messiah and God's adopted son. There were no police in sight and probably none were hidden.

  Orme could not restrain his curiosity. He called, 'Rabbi, if it's no trouble. A word with you?'

  Smiling, Jesus said, 'Certainly.'

  Orme got out of the car and ran up to the porch.

  'You flabbergasted me, Rabbi. I never heard of you having a wife. It's... unimaginable! Please don't be offended. But-'

  'That is because you Christians have thought of me as The Spirit of Holiness's divinely conceived son and also as Him. You've also taken over the Christian idea that I would be defiling myself if I had intercourse with a woman. That, from what I've been told, derives primarily from the man you call Saint Paul. It was his idea that a man shouldn't marry unless he "burned", to use his quaint phrase, and just had to have sexual satisfaction. He thought that the second coming would be within his lifetime and so there was no sense in getting married and having children.

  'I can't blame him for that idea, since I was responsible for it. I, too, thought - erroneously - that the day of supreme wrath was near, and I promised my disciples that some of them would still be living when it came. As for my Terrestrial celibacy, well, a wife would have hindered me, and she would have been unhappy and in grave danger.

  'But, though the Messiah, I am a man and therefore subject to error. Not to mention sexual desire.'

  He opened the door and said, 'Why don't you come in and have breakfast with me? We can talk a little longer. I'd planned to talk to all four of you in the near future about certain matters. But you can relay the in
formation to them.'

  Numb, his head bent, looking up from under his brows, Orme entered. The living room was well-furnished but no more than in any other house he'd been in.

  Jesus called, 'Miryam!' A moment later a tall dark woman in a blue-and- scarlet robe came in. Her face was beautiful, though Orme had seen those that surpassed it. Her figure was Junoesque: big-busted, narrow-waisted, very wide- hipped, and, judging by the ankles, the legs and thighs were thick.

  She kissed Jesus, and he said, 'Miryam, we have a guest for breakfast. He knows who you are and you, of course, could not mistake him for anyone else.'

  'I'm happy to meet you,' she said. 'May you be in good health. I'll have breakfast ready in five minutes.'

  Jesus chuckled and said, 'You still aren't able to accept the idea. Richard, I am a man, and while I could be celibate - and chaste - on Earth because I was there for such a short time, I cannot be celibate, though I'm chaste, here. Besides, the good women of my flock would criticise me - behind my back, of course - if I did not marry. They are Jewish. A home is happy only if a happy woman is under the roof. When I was on Earth, I had no home. I was a wanderer dedicated to spreading my message.'

  'But... children?'

  'I've foregone them. I am only home for a few days every month, and children should have a father who is with them every day. Miryam appeases her maternal feelings by teaching in a school. She understood when we married that we could have no offspring. She also knew that I would be able to see her only occasionally, but she thought it well worth it. The ecstasy of being with me for those short periods more than makes up for my absences. And I am happy with her.

  'And now, let us wash our hands and faces. It's not good to sit down to partake of the Creator's bounty with dirty hands, though there are times when it's permissible.'

  Orme said, 'Yes, I've read your words on that subject.'

  18

  It was strange to be served food by Jesus, but the ancient custom that the host should do this for his guests was honoured even in this house. The breakfast was ample and tasty: a muskmelon, grapes, bread, honey, mutton, beef, and wine. Though the Martians had coffee bean bushes in their cryonic vaults, still potentially viable, they had never grown any. Orme had spoken to Hfathon about their use, and the Krsh had said he'd see what he could do about it. So far, Orme had heard nothing of any progress in the matter.

 

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