Venus was the most miserable planet in the system, peopled by miserableexcuses for human beings. And somewhere among this conglomeration ofboiling protoplasm there was a being unlike the others, a being whowalked and talked like the others but who was different—and afraidthe difference would be discovered. You'll remember this short story.
foundling
on
venus
by ... John & Dorothy
de Courcy
The foundling could not have been more than three years old. Yet heheld a secret that was destined to bring joy to many unhappy people.
Unlike Gaul, the north continentof Venus is divided intofour parts. No Caesar has setfoot here either, nor shall one—forthe dank, stinging, caustic airswallows up the lives of men andonly Venus may say, I conquered.
This is colonized Venus, whereone may walk without the threatof sudden death—except fromother men—the most bitterlyfought for, the dearest, bloodiest,most worthless land in the solarsystem.
Separated by men into Eastand West at the center of theTwilight Zone, the division acrossthe continent is the irregular,jagged line of Mud River, springingfrom the Great SerpentRange.
The African Republic holdsone quarter which the Negroesexploit as best they can, encumberedby filter masks andprotective clothing.
The Asians still actually try tocolonize their quarter, while theVenusian primitives neither helpnor hinder the bitter game ofpower-politics, secret murder,and misery—most of all, misery.
The men from Mars understandthis better, for their quarteris a penal colony. Sleepy-eyed,phlegmatic Martians, self-condemnedfor minute violationsof their incredible and complexmores—without guards savethemselves—will return to thesubterranean cities, complex philosophies,and cool, dry air ofMars when they have declaredtheir own sentences to be at anend.
Meanwhile, they labor to extractthe wealth of Venus withoutthe bitterness and hate, withoutthe savagery and fear of theirneighbors. Hence, they are regardedby all with the greatestsuspicion.
The Federated States, aftertheir fashion, plunder the landand send screaming ships toNorth America laden with bootyand with men grown suddenlyrich—and with men who willnever care for riches or anythingelse again. These are the fortunatedead. The rest are receivedinto the sloppy breast of Venuswhere even a tombstone or markeris swallowed in a few, shortweeks. And they die quickly onVenus, and often.
From the arbitrary point wherethe four territories met, NewReno flung its sprawling, dirtycarcass over the muddy soil androared and hooted endlessly,laughed with the rough boisterousnessof miners and spacemen,rang with the brittle, brassylaughter of women following atrade older than New Reno. Itclanged and shouted and bellowedso loudly that quiet sobbing wasnever heard.
But a strange sound hung inthe air, the crying of a child. Atiny child, a boy, he sat begrimedby mud at the edge of the streetwhere an occasional ground carflung fresh contamination on hissmall form until he became almostindistinguishable from themuddy street. His whimperingchanged to prolonged wailingsobs. He didn't turn to look atany of the giant passers-by nordid they even notice him.
But finally one passer-bystopped. She was young andprobably from the FederatedStates. She was not painted norwas she well-dressed. She hadnothing to distinguish her, exceptthat she stopped.
"Oh, my!" she breathed, bendingover the tiny form. "Youpoor thing. Where's your mama?"
The little fig