Nelson: Well, yes and no, Your Excellency. He knows quite a number of words, but, as Mahmoud says, he doesn’t have any cultural context to hang the words on. It can be rather confusing.

Secretary General: Oh, we’ll get along all right, I’m sure. When I was a youngster I hitchhiked all through Brazil, without knowing a word of Portuguese when I started. Now, if you will just introduce us—then leave us alone.

Nelson: Sir? I think I had better stay with my patient.

Secretary General: Really, Doctor? I’m afraid I must insist. Sorry.

Nelson: And I am afraid that I must insist. Sorry, sir. Medical ethics—

Secretary General: (interrupting) As a lawyer, I know a little something of medical jurisprudence—so don’t give me that “medical ethics” mumbo-jumbo, really. Did this patient select you?

Nelson: Not exactly, but—

Secretary General: Just as I thought. Has he had any opportunity to make a choice of physicians? I doubt it. His present status is that of ward of the state. I am acting as his next of kin, de facto—and, you will find, de jure as well. I wish to interview him alone.

Nelson: (long pause, then very stiffly) If you put it that way, Your Excellency, I withdraw from the case.

Secretary General: Don’t take it that way, Doctor; I didn’t mean to get your back hair up. I’m not questioning your treatment. But you wouldn’t try to keep a mother from seeing her son alone, now would you? Are you afraid that I might hurt him?

Nelson: No, but—

Secretary General: Then what is your objection? Come now, introduce us and let’s get on with it. This fussing may be upsetting your patient.

Nelson: Your Excellency, I will introduce you. Then you must select another doctor for your . . . ward.

Secretary General: I’m sorry, Doctor, I really am. I can’t take that as final—we’ll discuss it later. Now, if you please?

Nelson: Step over here, sir. Son, this is the man who wants to see you. Our great Old One.

Smith: (untranscribable)

Secretary General: What did he say?

Nelson: Sort of a respectful greeting. Mahmoud says it translates: “I am only an egg.” More or less that, anyway. He used to use it on me. It’s friendly. Son, talk man-talk.

Smith: Yes.

Nelson: And you had better use simple one-syllable words, if I may offer a last advice.

Secretary General: Oh, I will.

Nelson: Good-by, Your Excellency. Good-by, son.

Secretary General: Thanks, Doctor. See you later.

Secretary General: (continued) How do you feel?

Smith: Feel fine.

Secretary General: Good. Anything you want, just ask for it. We want you to be happy. Now I have something I want you to do for me. Can you write?

Smith: “Write?” What is “write?”

Secretary General: Well, your thumb print will do. I want to read a paper to you. This paper has a lot of lawyer talk, but stated simply it says that you agree that in leaving Mars you have abandoned—I mean, given up—any claims that you may have there. Understand me? You assign them in trust to the government.

Smith: (no answer)

Secretary General: Well, let’s put it this way. You don’t own Mars, do you?

Smith: (longish pause) I do not understand.

Secretary General: Mmm . . . Let’s try it this way. You want to stay here, don’t you?

Smith: I do not know. I was sent by the Old Ones. (Long untranscribable speech, sounds like a bullfrog fighting a cat.)

Secretary General: Damn it, they should have taught him more English by now. See here, son, you don’t have to worry about these things. Just let me have your thumb print here at the bottom of this page. Let me have your right hand. No, don’t twist around that way. Hold still! I’m not going to hurt you . . . Doctor! Doctor Nelson!

Second Doctor: Yes, sir?

Secretary General: Get Doctor Nelson.

Second Doctor: Doctor Nelson? But he has left, sir. He said you took him off the case.

Secretary General: Nelson said that? Damn him! Well, do something. Give him artificial respiration. Give him a shot. Don’t just stand there—can’t you see the man is dying?

Second Doctor: I don’t believe there is anything to be done, sir. Just let him alone until he comes out of it. That’s what Doctor Nelson always did.

Secretary General: Blast Doctor Nelson!

The Secretary General’s voice did not appear again, nor that of Doctor Nelson. Jill could guess, from gossip she had picked up around the hospital, that Smith had gone into one of his cataleptic withdrawals. There were only two more entries, neither of them attributed. One read: No need to whisper. He can’t hear you. The other read: Take that tray away. We’ll feed him when he comes out of it.

Jill was giving the transcription a third reading when Ben reappeared. He was carrying more onionskin sheets but he did not offer them to her; instead he said, “Hungry?”