Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Martians -- Fiction; Science fiction
"Come on, you Soul-with-a-man's-stomach," growled the woman, and too
hungry to be particular about the tone of invitation, I strode into the
parlour of that strange refreshment place. The woman was the first I
had seen of the outer race, and better than might have been expected in
appearance. Big, strong, and ruddy, she was a mental shock after the
slender slips of girlhood on the far side of the water, half a dozen of
whom she could have carried off without effort in her long arms. Yet
there was about her the credential of rough health, the dignity of
muscle, an upright carriage, an animal grace of movement, and withal a
comely though strongly featured face, which pleased me at once, and
later on I had great cause to remember her with gratitude. She eyed me
sulkily for a minute, then her frown gradually softened, and the
instinctive love of the woman for the supernatural mastered her other
feelings.
"Is that how you looked in another world?" she asked.
"Yes, exactly, cap to boots. What do you think of the attire, ma'am?"
"Not much," replied the good woman frankly. "It could not have been
becoming even when new, and you appear as though you had taken a muddy
road since then. What did you die of?"
"I will tell you so much as this, madam--that what I am like to die of
now is hunger, plain, unvarnished hunger, so, in Heaven's name, get out
what you have and let me fall-to, for my last meal was yesterday
morning."
Whereat, with a shrug of her shoulders at the eccentricities of nether
folk, the woman went to the rear of the house, and presently came back
with a meal which showed her husband had done scant justice to the
establishment by calling it a dry fish shop. It is true, fish supplied
the staple of the repast, as was inevitable in a seaport, but, like all
Martian fish, it was of ambrosial kind, with a savour about it of wine
and sunshine such as no fish on our side of space can boast of. Then
there were cakes, steaming and hot, vegetables which fitted into the
previous course with exquisite nicety, and, lastly, a wooden tankard of
the invariable Thither beer to finish off. Such a meal as a hungry man
might consider himself fortunate to meet with any day.
The woman watched me eat with much satisfaction, and when I had
answered a score of artless questions about my previous state, or
present condition and prospects, more or less to her satisfaction, she
supplied me in turn with some information which was really valuable to
me just then.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account