The Candle Lighter - Frederik Pohl(1), ebook, Temp
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The Candle LighterTHE TRUSTEESHIP DIRECTOR fished out a pack of ciga-rettes and offered them to Jaffa Doane. "I heard yourspeech last night," he said. "Cigarette?""I don't smoke," said Jaffa Doane."It was a good speech." The Director lit his cigarettethoughtfully, flicked the match away. Doane waited withpatience in his eyesan expression that seemed very muchout of place on the face of Jaffa Doane. But Doane hadpracticed patience before the Director's "invitation" hadreached him that morning. He knew it was coming; youcan't tell blunt truths on a world hookup and not expectto make a stir.The Director said, "I've checked your record, Doane.It's a good one. You have consistently fought for a lot ofthings that I happen to believe in myself. Naturally, Ithink you're off base this time, but I was with you on theKaffirs; I was with you on the Ainus; I'll be with youagain. I'm sure. In fact, if you look it up in the books ofyour Equality League, you'll find that I sent in my twodollars dues long ago." He peered at Doane under hiseyebrows and chuckled. "Don't look so surprised.""I can't help it," Doane said severely. "After what youradministration has done to the Martians""The Martians! Why, thoseNever mind." He clampedthe words down in his throat. "Just what," he demanded,"have we done to them?"Doane leaned forward. "Turned them into savages! Ex-ploited them, degraded them, reduced them to barbarism.Do you want the entire catalogue, sir? / know how theMars Trusteeship has been run! The Administrators havemade themselves gods, sir, godsl Their every whim is acommandment. That's what you've done!"The Director managed a smile, though his nostrils wereflaring. "I said I heard your speech," he reminded Doane."You had some suggestions to make, didn't you?""I did," said Doane proudly."And among them, you suggested that we remove Ad-ministrator Kellem and replace him with someone accept-able to the Equality League.""It was. Kellem's handling of the General Mercantileincident was""I know," the Director interrupted, and for the firsttime his smile relaxed. "I have here a radiogram from theAdministration Comzone on Mars. Read it, Mr. Doane."Doane took it suspiciously, but as he read, he beganto beam.MEDICAL CHECKUP SHOWS LOW-PRESSURE ASTHMAAPPROACHING TERTIARY STAGE, INCURABLE AND DAN-GEROUS WITHOUT IMMEDIATE PERMANENT RETURNTO EARTH. REQUEST IMMEDIATE CLEARANCE FORREPLACEMENT AND RETIREMENT.KELLEM, MARSDoane gloated, "He's retiring! Low-pressure asthma, myfoot! I thought the stink from General Mercantile woulddrive him out!"The Director said in a level tone, "Kellem almost diedlast week, Doane.""All right." Doane shrugged. "It makes no difference.In any case, I demand to be consulted in choosing hissuccessor."The Director eyed him. "You do, do you?" He presseda button on his desk and said, "Ask Ne Mieek to comein." A sexy contralto replied, "Yes, sir."The Director looked at Doane. "Ever seen a Martian?"he asked. "You take such an interest in them, I wonderif you've ever met one. Face-to-face, I mean; the picturesdon't quite do them justice. No? Well, it's about timeyou did."He stood up and gestured toward the door."Jaffa Doane," he said, "meet Ne Mieek."Doane rose and turned to see who was coming in. Heswallowed. "How do you do," he managed to say.A suppressed sighing sound came from the thing thatdragged itself through the doorway. Doane thought itformed words in a sort of airless whisper, the sound thatmight be made by a man with a slashed throat.It went: "GI'd f n'w y" The vowels were almostinaudible, the consonants as though they were being forcedout against a gag. It was English, all right; you couldmake it out if you tried.But if the thing's words were understandable, its ex-pression was not. As the Director had said, you had tomeet a Martian in the flesh; photos did not give more thana hint. On the squashed, whitely translucent face was whatDoane thought a grin of savage glee, while the huge dulleyes held inexpressible sorrow. Neither interpretation,Doane told himself, meant much; that was anthrophomor-phic thinking, and dangerous. But those looks took a littlegetting used to, all the same."Don't try to shake hands with him, Mr. Doane," saidthe Director. "He hasn't any."It was true. Four supple, articulated tentacles wavedaround the .Martian's midsection, but there were no handsor arms. The pear-shaped body was supported on stubbylittle legs which had neither knee nor ankle, as far asJaffa Doane could see.The Director was saying, "Ne Mieek is the Martianlegate here in Washington and, like Kellem, the strain ofan alien environment has hurt his health. He'll be goingback to Mars on your ship, Doane, and you'll be workingwith him.""Working with him?" Doane gasped.The Director allowed himself a look of surprise."Haven't you figured it out yet, Doane? Since we mustreplace Kellem anyhow, we have decided to grant theEquality League's request. We are picking a man for thepost that the League is certain to approvebecause he isthe president of it I mean you, Mr. Doane.""Me? Me? But I've never been on Mars!""In eighteen days," said the Director, "you will nolonger be able to make that statement. That is, unless yourefuse the appointment."Jaffa Doane stood up and there was corrosive anger inhis voice. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? You want meto turn it down, so you can tell the news services what alot of hot air the president of the Equality League reallyis. Well, I can recognize a shoddy little political trick whenI see one. You hand me a political hot potato, throw mein on a job that your fat-cats have finally messed up tothe point where there are riots and investigations. If thingsgo wrong. I'm the goat that shuts up the Equality League.If things go right, your administration gets the credit.""I take it you refuse," said the Director."No, sir! I don't refuse! It's a cheap trickand I'll makeyou wish you'd never thought of it. I accept!"He looked over his shoulder at the Martian who hadbecome, in the space of a heartbeat, one of his charges.Jaffa Doane couldn't help wincing a littlethey did lookso much like ragged corpses!But he said, "Come along, Ne Mieek. We're going toyour home."For more than a million members of the EqualityLeague, Jaffa Doane was a severe and shining leader; hiswords were trumpet calls and his surging drive for justicewas a bright flame. One or two of the members, however,took a more personal view of their president, among thema young lady whose name was Ruth-Ann Wharton. On thebooks, she was listed as Mr. Doane's personal secretary,but it had been several months now since she had firstbegun to contemplate a promotion for herself.It had occurred to her that the eighteen-day flight toMars on the shuttle rocket might provide the time andleisure for Jaffa Doane to notice just what a pearl he hadas a secretary. But it had been a disappointing voyage;Doane had kept to his stateroom most of the way.A hatful of hours out of Marsport, Ruth-Ann wasbanging on her boss's stateroom door. "Jaffa," she calledplaintively, and not for the first time, "Ne Mieek andanother Martian are waiting for you. Please hurry."Doane's low, controlled voice said, "I'll be there in amoment, Miss Wharton."She scowled at the door. "Ill give you exactly oneminute." But she didn't give him that much. She ham-mered again. "Jaffa, they're waiting."Pause. Then the calm, relaxed voice. "Yes, of course.One moment."Ruth-Ann stamped her foot. "Oh, darn you!" she saidand did what she had wanted to do in the first place. Sheturned the knob and walked in. "They've been waitinghalf an hour and Ne Mieek says it's very important."The room was in semi-darkness, lit only by the lightfrom the corridor outside. From the rumpled heap ofbedclothing, Jaffa Doane's voice said placidly, "I'm awareof that, Miss Wharton."Her hands found the light switch. The bedclothingerupted and Jaffa Doane sat up, leaning on an elbow,blinking at her."What?" he croaked blearily. "Say, haven't I asked youto call me only from the outside?""You have," she said hotly, flinging back the ray-screenon the port. The tempered glass was treated to filter outmost of the glare, but the direct sunlight lit up the littleroom like a movie set."Get up," she ordered. "If you're not outside and fullydressed in five minutes, I'm coming back and I'll dress youmyself. Anyway, Jaffa, it looks as if it really is important.Ne Mieek is sighing and talking about your duty to yourjob. And the other Martianwell, it's hard to tell, every-thing considered, but he looks sick.""Sick?" Jaffa Doane yawned and scratched. "Sick how?"Ruth-Ann shook her head. "Come on out and see foryourself."Looking hazily at his face in the mirror of the tinywashroom as he shaved, Jaffa Doane decided that Ruth-Ann, after all, was right. He did have a tendency to benot difficult, exactly, not grumpy or nasty, but a little hardto wake up in the mornings. And besides, this was animportant day. He was about to meet his charges. Hewiped off the depilatory and stubble and stood erect, eyesburning into his own reflection in the mirror.The sound of his stateroom door made him jump. "I'mcoming right out!" he yelled.In the room that had been fitted out as his office forthe duration of the tripand which he had hardly set footinNe Mieek and Ruth-Ann were waiting. With themwas another Martian and, looking at him, Jaffa Doaneknew what the girl had meant when she said there wassomething wrong. A strappin...
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