COURSE OF EMPIRE By RICHARD WILSON Mars' sands are red; Earth's face is too: We were too green, And now we're blue! [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Infinity Science Fiction, February 1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The older man sat down on the grassy bank on the hill overlooking the orchard. The autumn sun was bright but the humidity was low and there was a breeze. The younger man sprawled next to him. "Cigarette?" he asked. "Thanks," said Roger Boynton. He looked across the valley, past the apple trees, to the fine white-columned house on the hill beyond. He smiled reminiscently. "A friend of mine once owned that house. A fellow commissioner in World Government. He and I used to sit on this very hill, sometimes. We'd munch on an apple or two that we'd picked on our way through the orchard. Winesaps, they're called." "You were telling me about the colonizing," said Allister gently, after a pause. The older man sighed. "Yes." He put out the cigarette carefully, stripped it, scattered the tobacco and wadded the paper into a tiny ball. "I was commissioner of colonies. I had to decide, after my staff had gathered all the data, who would be the best man to put in charge. It was no easy decision." "I can imagine." "You can't really. There were so many factors, and the data were actually quite skimpy. The way it worked out, to be candid with you, was on the basis of the best guess. And some of the guesses were pretty wild. We knew Mars was sandy, for instance, and so we put a Bedouin in charge. That pleased the Middle East, in general, and Jordan in particular. Jordan donated a thousand camels under Point Four point four." "I beg your pardon?" said Allister. "That's not double-talk. Point Four was the old terrestrial program for underdeveloped countries. World Government adopted it and broadened it. Mars is the fourth planet, so--" he traced 4.4 in the air, stabbing a finger at the imaginary point "--Point Four point four. It was undoubtedly somebody's little whimsy in the beginning, but then it became accepted for the descriptive term that it was." "I see." The young man looked vague. He stubbed out his cigarette carelessly, so that it continued to smolder in the grass. "Venus was the rainy planet," Boynton said, looking with disapproval at the smoking butt, though he did nothing about it, "so we put an Englishman in charge. England sent a crate of Alligators." The young man looked startled.