Free Martian Time-Slip by Philip K. Dick Page B

man.
    The waiter appeared with their food.
    “This is awful,” Arnie said, “I mean, really awful. What am I going to do?” Every party he threw, every time he had a cozy two-person dinner arranged for himself and some girl, for instance Marty or especially of late Doreen…It was just too goddamn much in one day, this and his encoder, both together.
    “Don't you think,” Anne said, “it might have something to do with him being German? There's been so much sorrow in Germans since that drug plague, those children born with flippers. I've talked to some who've said openly they thought it was God's punishment on them for what was done during the Nazi period. And these weren't religious men, these were businessmen, one here on Mars, the other at Home.”
    “That damn stupid Steiner,” Arnie said. “That cabbage head.”
    “Eat your food, Arnie.” She began to unfold her napkin. “The soup looks good.”
    “I can't eat,” he said. “I don't want this slop.” He pushed his soup bowl away.
    “You're still just like a big baby,” Anne said. “Still having your tantrums.” Her voice was soft and compassionate.
    “Hell,” he said, “sometimes I feel like I've got the weight of the entire planet on me, and you call me a baby!” He glared at her in baffled outrage.
    “I didn't know that Norbert Steiner was involved in the black market,” Anne said.
    “Naturally you wouldn't, you and your lady-committees. What do you know about the world around you? That's why I'm here—I read that last ad you had in the
Times
and it stank. You have to stop giving out that crap like you do; it repels intelligent people—it's just for other cranks like yourself.”
    “Please,” Anne said. “Eat your food. Calm down.”
    “I'm going to assign a man from my Hall to look over your material before you distribute it. A professional.”
    “Are you?” she said mildly.
    “We've got a real problem—we're not getting the skilled people to come over from Earth any more, the people we need. We're rotting—everybody knows that. We're falling apart.”
    Smiling, Anne said, “Somebody will take Mr. Steiner's place; there must be other black-market operators.”
    Arnie said, “You're deliberately misunderstanding me so as to make me look greedy and small, whereas actually I'm one of the most responsible members of the entire colonization attempt here on Mars, and that's why our marriage broke down, because of your belittling me out of jealousy and competitiveness. I don't know why I came over here today—it's impossible for you to work things out on a rational basis, you have to inflict personalities into everything.”
    “Did you know there's a bill before the UN to shut Camp B-G?” Anne said calmly.
    “No,” Arnie said.
    “Does it distress you to think of B-G being closed?”
    “Hell, we'll give Sam private individual care.”
    “What about the other children there?”
    “You changed the subject,” Arnie said. “Listen, Anne, you have to knuckle down to what you call masculine domination and let my people edit what you write. Honest to God, it does more harm than good—I hate to say this to your face but it's the truth. You're a worse friend than you would be an enemy, the way you go about things. You're a dabbler! Like most women. You're—irresponsible.” He wheezed with wrath. Her face showed no reaction; what he said had no effect on her.
    “Can you bring any pressure to bear to help keep B-G open?” she asked. “Maybe we can make a deal. I want to see it kept open.”
    “A
cause,
” Arnie said ferociously.
    “Yes.”
    “You want my blunt answer?”
    She nodded, facing him coolly.
    “I've been sorry ever since those Jews opened that camp.”
    Anne said, “Bless you, honest blunt Arnie Kott, mankind's friend.”
    “It tells the entire world we've got nuts here on Mars, that if you travel across space to get here you're apt to damage your sexual organs and give birth to a monster that would make those