The Martian Viking Read Online Free PDF Page A

growing up, finding out about these things, huh?"
    "I guess so." Alderdice's first sip of coffee scalded the roof of his mouth. He grimaced and set the cup on the table.
    "It's kind of like when somebody close to you dies. You don't really understand that it's possible until it actually happens. There's a terrific sense of isolation that follows. It's as if you're the only one in the universe who this has ever happened to. But after a while you become less solipsistic, and you find out that other people are dying, people who aren't loved ones. They're somebody else's loved ones, though, and these other people maybe feel the same way you did when it happened to you. So you try to break through their isolation, and then you might find out that they don't want you to. That they'd rather be alone."
    Alderdice took another sip of coffee. Biberkopf was really babbling now. But at least he wasn't going anyplace. Not physically, anyway.
    "It's all a great mystery. Love, death, all of it," Biberkopf said. "No matter how many times somebody says that, it doesn't make it any less true, does it?"
    "I guess not. So what did you do with the onees, Mr. Biberkopf?"
    "Call me Smitty. Everybody does. We even named my son Smitty II."
    "That's nice—what about the onees, though?"
    "I've got them right here." Biberkopf picked up a canister and smiled. "Would you like to try one?"

THREE
    ALDERDICE WAS TEMPTED to do it. In some crazy, self-destructive way, he wanted to touch an onee and act peculiar for once in his life. But he couldn't override the programming that made him always do what he was supposed to.
    "Do you . . ." It sounded preposterous, but he said it anyway. " . . .realize that what you've just said is a Conglom offense?"
    "Yeah," Biberkopf replied, holding two tiny silver spheres out to him. "If I don't watch out they might send me to the moon or something, right?"
    Alderdice backed away. The man was mad; the government had been quite correct to draft him. Antipathy surged to the surface of Alderdice's mind, while a desire to try the onees lurked somewhere in the depths. He had to do something fast.
    "Come on," Biberkopf urged him. "Give it a try."
    "I couldn't do a thing like that," Alderdice said weakly. "I'd be breaking the law."
    "And a P.A. can't break the law, can he?" the suspect goaded. "Some kind of brain implants make them obey at all times, right?"
    Now Alderdice saw how clever the man was. "Biberkopf," he said, "please."
    "Call me Smitty," Johnsmith said. "Everybody does . . .except for Ryan Effner." As soon as he mentioned Effner's name, he knew that it was his colleague and supposed friend who was the "repairman." But this notion was just paranoia, wasn't it? Rye wouldn't do that to his old buddy, would he? But why else would Ronindella have made him hide in the other room when Johnsmith called? Smitty II had been acting funny, too, and Ronindella had tried to get him out of sight as quickly as possible. She had been afraid that the boy would innocently reveal the truth, no doubt.
    Johnsmith slowly came to realize that he was staring down at the soiled carpet, his guest waiting nervously for him to say something else. Even though he suspected that Sonny was an agent, he began to feel sorry for this muttering, overweight man.
    "I . . .really should be going," Alderdice was saying. "If you should run into Judy . . ."
    "Yeah, sure. We never called the building directory, did we? What was her name? Judy . . .?"
    "Takahashi. Judy Takahashi. But it won't be necessary to call." Alderdice rose from the uncomfortable chair, saying nervously, "Thanks for the coffee . . .Mr . . . . I mean, Smitty."
    Now that he heard his nickname, Biberkopf realized that nobody called him that anymore. He really didn't have any friends to speak of nowadays. "Sure you won't try an onee or two," he said, feeling a trifle malicious.
    "I've enjoyed talking to you," Sonny said, moving toward the door, "but I've really got to