Senator Sherman Brown was happy. Also slightly drunk.
He had eluded Izzy Newman and now here he was, squatting on the floor in the Jupiter Lantern, one of the noisiest night clubs in all of Satellite City, taking pictures of two old veterans engaged in an argument over the Battle of Ganymede.
A crowd had gathered to take in the argument. It was one that stirred imagination and there was always a chance it might develop into a fight.
Senator Brown plastered the view-finder of his candid camera against his eye and worked joyfully.
Here was a series of pictures that would do justice to his albums.
Gramp Parker pounded the table with his fist.
'We fit you and we licked you,' he yelled, 'and I don't give a 'tarnal dang how we come to do it. If your generals had been so all-fired smart, how come we licked the stuffin' out of you?'
Jurg Tec, a doddering old Martian, pounded the table back at Gramp.
'You Earthians won that battle by pure luck,' he squeaked and his squeak was full of honest rage.
'You had no right to win. By all the rules of warfare you were beaten from the start. Your strategy was wrong. Your space division was wrong, your timing was wrong. Alexander, when he brought his cruisers down to attack our camp, should have been wiped out.'
'But he wasn't,' Gramp yelped.
'Just luck,' Jurg Tec squeaked back. 'Fight that battle over again and the Martians would win.
Something went wrong. Something that historians can't explain. Work it out on paper and Mars wins every time.'
Gramp pounded the table with both fists. His beard twitched belligerently.
'But dang your ornery hide,' he screamed, 'battles ain't fit on paper. They're fit with men and ships and guns. And men count most. The men with guts are the ones who win. And battles ain't fit over, neither. There ain't no second chance in war. You either win or lose and there ain't no rain checks handed out.'
The Martian seemed to be choking with rage. He sputtered in an attempt to find his voice.
Gramp gloated like a cat that has just polished off a canary.
'Same as I was tellin' you,' he asserted. 'One good Earthman can lick ten Marshies any time of day or night.'
Jurg Tec sputtered in helpless anger.
Gramp improved upon his boast. 'Any time of day or night,' he said, 'blindfolded and with one hand tied behind him.'
Jurg Tec's fist lashed out without warning and caught Gramp square on the beard. Gramp staggered and then let out a bellowing howl and made for the Martian. The crowd yelled encouragement.
Jurg Tec, retreating before Gramp's flailing fists, staggered over the kneeling Senator Brown. Gramp leaped at him at the same instant and the three were tangled on the floor in a flurry of lashing arms and legs.
'Take that,' yelled Gramp.
'Hey, look out for my camera,' shrieked the senator.
The Martian said nothing, but he hung a beauty on the senator's left eye. He had aimed it at Gramp.
A table toppled with a crash. The crowd hooted in utter delight.
The senator glimpsed his camera on the floor, reached out and grabbed it. Someone stepped on his hand and he yelled. Jurg Tec grabbed Gramp by the beard.
'Cut it out,' boomed a voice and two policemen came charging through the crowd. They jerked Gramp and Jurg Tec to their feet. The senator got up by himself.
'What you fellows fighting about?' asked the big policeman.
'He's dog-gone Marshy,' yelled Gramp.
'He said one Earthy could lick ten Martians,' squeaked Jurg Tec.
The big policeman eyed the senator.
'What have you got to say for yourself?' he asked.
The senator was suddenly at a loss for words. 'Why, nothing, officer, nothing at all,' he stammered.
'I don't suppose you were down there rolling around with them?' snarled the policeman.
'Why, you see, it was this way, officer,' the senator explained. 'I tried to separate them. Tried to make them quit fighting. And one of them hit me.'
The policeman chuckled. 'Peacemaker, eh?' he said.
The senator nodded, miserably.
The officer turned his attention toward Gramp and Jurg Tec. 'Fighting the war over again,' he said.
'Can't you fellows forget it? The war was over forty years ago.'
'He insulted me,' Jurg Tec squeaked.
'Sure, I know,' said the officer, 'and you were insulted pretty easy.'
'Listen, here, officer,' said the senator. 'If I take these two boys and promise you they won't make any more disturbance, will you just forget about this?'
The big policeman looked at the little policeman.
'Who are you?' the little policeman asked.
'Why, I'm-I'm Jack Smith. I know these two boys. I was sitting talking with them before this happened.'
The two policemen looked at one another again.
Then they both looked at the senator.
'Why, I guess it would be all right,' agreed the little policeman. 'But you see they keep peaceable or we'll throw all three of you in the jug.'
They eyed him sternly. The senator shifted uneasily. Then he stepped forward and took Gramp and Jurg Tec by the arm.
'Come on, boys, let's have a drink,' he suggested.
'I still say,' protested Gramp, 'that one Earthman can lick ten Marshies — '
'Here, here,' warned the senator, 'you pipe down. I promised the police you two would be friends.'
'Friends with him?' asked Gramp.
'Why not?' asked the senator. 'After all, this reunion is for the purpose of demonstrating the peace and friendship which exists between Mars and Earth. Out of the dust and roar of battle rises a newer and clearer understanding. An understanding which will lead to an everlasting peace-'
'Say,' said Gramp, 'danged if you don't sound like you was makin' a speech.'
'Huh,' said the senator.
'Like you was makin' a speech,' said Gramp. 'Like you was one of them political spellbinders that are out gettin' votes.'
'Well,' said the senator, 'maybe I am.'
'With that eye of yourn,' Gramp pointed out, 'you ain't in no shape to make any speech.'
Senator Brown strangled on his drink. He set down his glass and coughed.
'What's the matter with you?' asked Jurg Tec.
'I forgot something,' the senator explained. 'Something very important.'
'It can wait,' Jurg Tec said. 'I'll buy the next round.'
'Sure,' agreed Gramp, 'ain't nothin' so important you can't have another drink.'
'You know,' said the senator, 'I was going to make a speech.'
The two old soldiers stared at him in disbelief.
'It's a fact,' the senator told them, 'but I can't with this eye. And will I catch hell for not making that speech! That's what I get for sneaking out with my camera.'
'Maybe we can help you out,' suggested Gramp. 'Maybe we could square things for you.'
'Maybe we could,' squeaked the Martian.
'Listen, boys,' said the senator, 'if I were to go out in a ship for a tour of the surface and if the ship broke down and I couldn't get back in time to make my speech, nobody would blame me for that, would they?'
'You're dang right they wouldn't,' said Gramp.
'How about the eye?' asked Jurg Tec.
'Shucks,' said Gramp, 'we could say he run into somethin'.'
'Would you boys like to come along with me?' asked the senator.
'Bet your life,' said Gramp.
Jurg Tec nodded.
'There's some old battle hulls out there I'd like to see,' he said. 'Ships that were shot down during the battle and just left there. Shot up too bad to salvage. The pilot probably would land and let us look at one or two of them.'
'Better take along your camera,' suggested Gramp. 'You'd ought to get some crackin' good pictures on one of 'em old tubs.'