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NIGHT MEETING
*********

Before going on up into the blue hills, Tomás Gomez topped for gasoline at the lonely station.
“Kind of alone out here, aren’t you, Pop1?” said Tomas. 
The old man wiped off the windshield of the small truck.
“Not bad.”
“How do you like Mars, Pop?”
“Fine, Always something new. I made up my mind when I came here last year I wouldn’t expect nothing, nor ask nothing, nor be surprised at nothing.2 We’ve got to forget Earth and how things were. We’ve got to look at what we’re in here, and how different it is. I get a hell of a lot of fun out of just the weather here. It’s Martian weather. Hot as hell daytimes, cold as hell nights. I get a big kick out of the different flowers and different rain. I came to Mars to retire and I wanted to retire in a place where everything is different. An old man needs to have things different. Young people don’t want to talk to him, other old people bore hell out of him. So I thought the best thing for me is a place so different that all you got to do is open your eyes and you’re entertained. I got this gas station. If business picks up too much, I’ll move on back to some other old highway that’s not so busy, where I can earn just enough to live on and still have time to feel the different things here.”
“You got the right idea, Pop,” said Tomas, his brown hands idly on the wheel. He was feeling good. He had been working in one of the new colonies for ten days straight and now he had two days off and was on his way to a party.
“I’m not surprised at anything any more,” said the old man. “I’m just looking. I’m just experiencing. If you can’t take Mars for what it is, you might as well go back to Earth. Everything’s crazy up here, the soil, the air, the canals, the natives (I never saw any yet, but I hear they’re around), the clocks. Even my clock acts funny. Even time is crazy up here. Sometimes I feel I’m here all by myself, no one else on the whole damn planet. I’d take bets on it. Sometimes I feel about eight years old, my body squeezed up and everything else tall. Jesus, it’s just the place for an old man. Keeps me alert and keeps me happy. You know what Mars is? It’s like a thing I got for Christmas seventy years ago — don’t know if you ever had one — they called them kaleidoscopes, bits of crystal and cloth and beads and pretty junk. You held it up to the sunlight and looked in through at it, and it took your breath away. All the patterns! Well, that’s Mars. Enjoy it. Don’t ask it to be nothing else but what it is. Jesus, you know that highway right there, built by the Martians, is over sixteen centuries old and still in good condition? That’s one dollar and fifty cents, thanks and good night.”
Tomás drove off down the ancient highway, laughing quietly.

It was a long road going into darkness and hills and he held to the wheel, now and again reaching into his lunch bucket and taking out a piece of candy. He had been driving steadily for an hour, with no other car on the road, no light, just the road going under, the hum, the roar, and Mars out there, so quiet. Mars was always quiet, but quieter tonight than any other. The deserts and empty seas swung by him, and the mountains against the stars.
There was a smell of Time in the air tonight. He smiled and turned the fancy in his mind. There was a thought. What did Time smell like? Like dust and clocks and people. And if you wondered what Time sounded like it sounded like water running in a dark cave and voices crying and dirt dropping down upon hollow box lids, and rain. And, going further, what did Time look like? Time looked like snow dropping silently into a black room or it looked like a silent film in an ancient theater. That was how Time smelled and looked and sounded. And tonight — Tomás shoved a hand into the wind outside the truck — tonight you could almost touch Time.
He drove the truck between hills of Time. His neck prickled and he sat up, watching ahead.
He pulled into a little dead Martian town, stopped the engine, and let the silence come in around him. He sat, not breathing, looking out at the white buildings in the moonlight. Uninhabited for centuries. Perfect, faultless, in ruins, yes, but perfect, nevertheless.
He started the engine and drove on another mile or more before stopping again, climbing out, carrying his lunch bucket, and walking to a little promontory where he could look back at that dusty city. He opened his thermos and poured himself a cup of coffee. A night bird flew by. He felt very good, very much at peace.
Perhaps five minutes later there was a sound. Off in the hills, where the ancient highway curved, there was a motion, a dim light, and then a murmur.
Tomás turned slowly with the coffee cup in his hand. And out of the hills came a strange thing. It was a machine like a jade-green insect, a praying mantis, delicately rushing through the cold air, indistinct, countless green diamonds winking over its body, and red jewels that glittered with multifaceted eyes. Its six legs fell upon the ancient highway with the sounds of a sparse rain which dwindled away, and from the back of the machine a Martian with melted gold for eyes looked down at Tomás as if he were looking into a well.
Tomás raised his hand and thought Hello! Automatically but did not move his lips, for this was a Martian. But Tomás had swum in blue rivers on Earth, with strangers passing on the road, and eaten in strange houses with strange people, and his weapon had always been his smile.  He did not carry a gun. And he did not feel the need of one now, even with the little fear that gathered about his heart at this moment. The Martian’s hands were empty too. For a moment they looked across the cool air at each other.
It was Tomas who moved first.
“Hello!” he called.
“Hello!” called the Martian in his own language. They did not understand each other. 
“Did you say hello?” they both asked. 
“What did you say?” they said, each in a different tongue. 
They scowled.
“Who are you?” said Tomás in English.
“What are you doing here?” in Martian; the stranger’s lips moved.
“Where are you going?” they said, and looked bewildered.
“’I’m Tomás Gomez.” 
“I’m Muhe Ca.”
Neither understood, but they tapped their chests with the words and then it became clear.
And then the Martian laughed. “Wait!” Tomás felt his head touched, but no hand had touched him. “There!” said the Martian in English. “That’s better!”
“You learned my language, so quick!”
“Nothing at all!”
They looked, embarrassed with a new silence, at the steaming coffee he had in one hand.
“Something different?’” said the Martian, eyeing him and the coffee, referring to them both, perhaps.
“May I offer you a drink?” said Tomas.
“Please.”
The Martian slid down from his machine.
A second cup was produced and filled, steaming. Tomás held it out.
Their hands met and — like mist — fell through each other.
“Christ!” cried Tomas, and dropped the cup.
“Name of the Gods!” said the Martian in his own tongue.
“Did you see what happened?” they both whispered.
They were very cold and terrified.
The Martian bent to touch the cup but could not touch it.
“Jesus!” said Tomás.
“Indeed.” The Martian tried again and again to get hold of the cup, but could not. He stood up and thought for a moment, then took a knife from his belt. “Hey!” cried Tomás. “You misunderstand. Catch!” said the Martian, and tossed it. Tomás cupped his hands. The knife fell through his flesh. It hit the ground. Tomás bent to pick it up but could not touch it, and he recoiled shivering.
Now he looked at the Martian against the sky.
“The stars!” he said.
“The stars!” said the Martian, looking, in turn, at Tomás.
The stars were white   and   sharp   beyond the flesh of the Martian, and they were sewn into his flesh like scintillas swallowed into the thin, phosphorescent membrane of a gelatinous sea fish. You could see stars flickering like violet eyes in the Martian’s stomach and chest, and through his wrists, like jewelry.
“I can see through you!” said Tomás.
“And I through you!” said the Martian, stepping back.
Tomas felt of his own body and, feeling the warmth was reassured. I am real, he thought.
The Martian touched his own nose and lips. “I have flesh,” he said, half aloud. “I am alive.”
Tomás stared at the stranger. “And if I am real, then you. Must be dead.”
“No, you!”
“A ghost!”
“A phantom!”
They pointed at each other, with starlight burning in their limbs like daggers and icicles and fireflies, and then fell to judging their limbs again, each finding himself intact, hot, excited, stunned, awed, and the other, ah yes, that other over there, unreal, a ghostly prism flashing the accumulated  light  of  distant worlds.
I’m drunk, thought Tomás. I won’t tell anyone of this tomorrow, no, no.
They stood there on the ancient highway, neither of them moving.
“Where are you from?” asked the Martian at last.    
“Earth.”
“What is that?”
“There.” Tomás nodded to the sky. 
“When?”
“We landed over a year ago, remember?”
“No.”
“And all of you were dead, all but a few. You’re rare, don’t you know that?”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, dead. I saw the bodies. Black, in the rooms, in the houses, dead. Thousands of them.”
“That’s ridiculous. We’re alive!”
“Mister, you’re invaded, only you don’t know it. You must have escaped.”
“I haven’t escaped; there was nothing to escape. What do you mean? I’m on my way to a festival now at the canal, near the Eniall Mountains. I was there last night. Don’t you see the city there?” The Martian pointed.
Tomás looked and saw the ruins. “Why, that city’s been dead thousands of years.”
The Martian laughed. “Dead? I slept there yesterday!”
“And I was in it a week ago and the week before that, and I just drove through it now, and it’s a heap. See the broken pillars?”
“Broken? Why, I see them perfectly. The moonlight helps. And the pillars are upright.”
“There’s dust in the streets,” said Tomas.
“The streets are clean!”
“The canals are empty right there.”
“The canals are full of lavender wine!”
“It’s dead.”
“It’s alive!” protested the Martian, laughing more now. “Oh, you’re quite wrong. See all the carnival lights? There are beautiful boats as slim as women, beautiful women as slim as boats, women the color of sand, women with fire flowers in their hands. I can see them, small, running in the streets there. That’s where I’m going now, to the festival; we’ll float on the waters all night long; we’ll sing, we’ll drink, we’ll make love. Can’t you see it?”
“Mister, that city is dead as a dried lizard. Ask any of our party. Me, I’m on my way to Green City tonight; that’s the new colony we just raised over near Illinois Highway. You’re mixed up. We brought in a million board feet of Oregon lumber and a couple dozen tons of good steel nails and hammered together two of the nicest little villages you ever saw. Tonight we’re warming one of them. A couple rockets are coming in from Earth, bringing our wives and girl-friends. There’ll be barn dances and       whiskey —”
The Martian was now disquieted. “You say it is over that way?”
“There are the rockets.” Tomás walked him to the edge of the hill and pointed down. “See?”
“No.”
“Damn it, there they are! Those long silver things.”
“No.”
Now Tomás laughed. “You’re blind!”
“I see very well. You are the one who does not see.”
“But you see the new town, don’t you?”
“I see nothing but an ocean, and water at low tide.”
“Mister, that water’s been evaporated for forty centuries.”
“Ah, now, that’s enough.”
“It’s true, I tell you.”
The Martian grew very serious. “Tell me again. You do not see the city the way 1 describe it? The pillars very white, the boats very slender, the festival lights — oh, I see then clearly! And listen! I can hear them singing. It’s no space away at all.”
Tomás listened and shook his head. “No.”
“And I, on the other hand,” said the Martian, “cannot see what you describe. Well.”
Again they were cold. An ice was in their flesh.
“Can it be...?”
“What?”
“You say ‘from the sky’?”
“Earth.”
“Earth, a name, nothing,” said  the Martian. “But... as I came up the pass an hour ago...” He touched the back his neck. “I felt...”
“Cold?”
“Yes.”
“And now?”
“Cold again. Oddly. There was a thing to the light, to the hills, the road,” said the Martian. “I felt the strangeness, the road, the light, and for a moment I felt as if were the last man alive on this world...”    
“So did I!” said Tomás, and it was like talking to аn old and dear friend, confiding, growing warm with the topic.
The Martian closed his eyes and opened them again. “This can only mean one thing. It has to do with Time. Yes. You are a figment of the Past!”
“No, you are from the Past,” said the Earth Man, having had time to think of it now.
“You are so certain. How can you prove who is from the Past, who from the Future? What year is it?”
“Two thousand and one!”
“What does that mean to me?”
Tomás considered and shrugged. “Nothing.”
“It is as if I told you that it is the year 4462853 S. E. С. It is nothing and more than nothing! Where is the clock to show us how the stars stand?”
“But the ruins prove it! They prove that I am the Future, I am alive, you are dead!”
“Everything in me denies this. My heart beats, my stomach hungers, my mouth thirsts. No, no, not dead, not alive, either of us. More alive than anything else. Caught between is more like it. Two strangers passing in the night, that is it. Two strangers passing. Ruins, you say?”
“Yes. You’re afraid?”
“Who wants to see the Future, who ever does? A man can face the Past, but to think — the pillars crumbled, you say? And the sea empty, and the canals dry, and the maidens dead, and the flowers withered?’ The Martian was silent, but then he looked ahead. “But there they are. I see them. Isn’t that enough for me? They wait for me now, no matter what you say.”
And for Tomás the rockets, far away, waiting for him, and the town and the women from Earth. “We can never agree,” he said.
“Let us agree to disagree,” said the Martian. “What does it matter who is Past or Future, if we are both alive, for what follows will follow, tomorrow or in ten thousand years. How do you know that those temples are not the temples of your own civilization one hundred centuries from now, tumbled and broken? You do not know. Then don’t ask. But the night is very 
short. There go the festival fires in the sky, and the birds.” Tomás put out his hand. The Martian did likewise in imitation. Their hands did not touch; they melted through each  other.
“Will we meet again?”
“Who knows? Perhaps some other night?”
“I’d like to go with you to that festival.”
“And I wish I might come to your new town, to see this ship you speak of, to see these men, to hear all that has happened.”
“Goodbye,” said Tomás.
“Good night.”
The Martian rode his green metal vehicle quietly away into the hills. The Earth Man turned his truck and drove it silently in the opposite direction.
“Good lord, what a dream that was,” sighed Tomas, his hands on the wheel, thinking of the rockets, the women, the raw whiskey, the party. How strange a vision was that, thought the Martian, rushing on, thinking of the festival, the canals, the boats, the women with golden eyes, and the songs.
The night was dark. The moons3 had gone down. Starlight twinkled on the empty highway where now there was not a sound, no car, no person, nothing. And it remained that way all the rest of the cool dark night.

1950

NOTES

1. Pop (slang) – father; often used in addressing an elderly man
2. I wouldn’t expect nothing, nor ask nothing, nor be surprised at nothing (colloquial) – double negation, characteristic of uncultured illiterate speech
3. The moons – Mars has two moons, Phobos and Deimos, which are small and irregularly shaped. These may be captured asteroids

ACTIVE VOCABULARY

Explain the contextual meaning of the lexical units:

to get a big kick out of sth [v phrase]
alert [adj]
to take your breath away [v phrase]
faultless [adj]
sparse [adj]
ridiculous [adj]
to confide (to sb that / in sb) [v T]
figment [n C]

EXERCISES

1. Collocate the words in the columns and make up sentences with each:
   alert
   faultless
   ridiculous
   sparse 
   argument, to be on full, data, foreign language, to look, mind, patently, performance, person, to remain, set of teeth, suggestion, traffic, vegetation.

2. Give the derivatives of the lexical units below and make sentences with each:
    

• Confide
• Faultless
• Ridiculous
• Sparse 

3. Arrange the lexical units into groups of synonyms, discriminate between the shades of difference in their meaning:

Meagre, absurd, alert, sparse, ludicrous, vigilant, ridiculous, scanty, foolish, watchful.

4. Fill in the gaps using the words from the exercise above:

1. You look absolutely _________ in this hat! They are out of fashion now! Such hats went out of fashion years ago.
2. She couldn’t afford going abroad because of her _________ wages.
3. What must I do? – Your task is to stay _________ at all times and report any suspicious events to the headquarters immediately.
4. Again you are wearing this _________ flowery shirt! You know I hate it! We are not in Hawaii!
5. Wheat farmers have had a poor crop this year. The reason is _________ rains.
6. It was _________ of the government to expect the economy to recover within a year or so.
7. To combat this kind of vandalism the staff must be _________ at all times.
8. In the daytime his fear almost disappeared but in the evening she became more _________ and felt jittery.
9. It was a cold day for swimming and she attracted everybody’s attention wearing just a _________ bikini.

5. Make up sentences using the underlined word combinations:

1. He had been working in one of the new colonies for ten days straight <…>.
2. Jesus, you know that highway right there, built by the Martians, is over 16 centuries old and still in good condition?
3. He felt very good, very much at peace (with himself).
4. I’m on my way to a festival now at the canal, near the Eniall Mountains.
5. I can hear them singing, it’s no space at all.
6. The Martian did likewise in imitation.
7. The Earth Man turned his truck and drove it silently in the opposite direction.

6. Complete the sentences with the correct form of the most appropriate phrase from the list below:
   
    

1. They say that the economy of the country is _________ ____, but we see quite the opposite changes!
2. “I can lend you some money,” he _________ ____ some bank notes but the wind snatched them and they whirled around in the air.
3. Don’t _________ me ____! You are always trying to do it to distract me!
4. It was Mark who _________ his foot ____ and tripped me up!
5. Be quick, _________ ____ – let the limousine pass! 

_____________________________________________________________
to pull in(to), to hold out, to pick up, to put out, to mix up

7. Paraphrase or explain:

1. If business picks up too much, I’ll move on back to some other old highway that’s not busy…
2. … and walking to a little promontory where he could look back at that dusty city.
3. And he didn’t feel the need of one (gun) now, even with the little fear that gathered about his heart at this moment.
4. You’re mixed up.
5. The Martian was now disquieted.
6. Let us agree to disagree.

8. Comment on the following:

1. Even time is crazy up here.
2. But Tomás had swum in blue rivers on Earth, with strangers passing on the road, and eaten in strange houses with strange people and his weapon had always been his smile.
3. Caught between is more like this.
4. Who wants to see the Future, who ever does?
5. What does it matter who is Past or Future, if they are both alive, for what follows will follow, tomorrow or in ten thousand years.

QUESTIONS

1. Specify what people like Tomás found attractive in the life on Mars.
2. Comment upon the description of Time provided by the author. Have you ever felt what Tomás experienced – that you can almost touch Time? If yes, try to answer the questions he was preoccupied with: What did Time smell/look/sound like? Compare your associations with Tomás’ ones.
3. Do you agree that it is easier to face the Past? Why are we usually not willing to see the Future? Would you like to know what’s going to happen to you? 
4. How come Tomás and Muhe Ca met? As Muhe Ca said they had been caught between. What does it mean? Comment upon Tomás’ and Muhe Ca’s behaviour during their conversation. How did each of them take the shock of having met a man from a different world?
5. Do you agree with the statement that everything is meaningful in this world? What’s the meaning of the night meeting? Will Tomás and Muhe Ca ever see each other again? Do you believe this meeting really happened? Maybe it was just a dream?
6. Pay attention to the descriptions of Martian towns lying in ruins. What symbolic significance is attached to them?
7. What’s the author’s message?