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                             Guest Expert

                           by Allen K. Lang

            Earth had a problem ... and the Martian visitor
               had a very deadly means of solving it....

           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
                     Planet Stories January 1951.
         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]


"I'm only here to help you," said the man from Mars.

"You've proved that," the Secretary admitted. "In the six weeks that
you've been here, you've wiped out rabies, measles, and the common
cold: but sir, this latest proposal of yours is blasphemous!"

The man from Mars waved an appendage in the direction of the
Secretary's desk, atop which a newspaper was lying open. "After
reading what that paper has to say can you still doubt that what I
propose is necessary?"

The young man in uniform crossed the room and picked up the newspaper.
He read the headlines aloud, bitterly: "INDIAN FAMINE ARMY STORMS NEW
DELHI"; "TASMAN REPUBLIC BIDS FOR PLACE IN SUN"; "PLAGUE DECIMATES
LOWER NILE."

"You could end that plague." The Assistant's voice was accusing.

"I could, of course. The battles and the starvation would still be
with you, though. Why do you persist in treating the symptoms instead
of the sickness? I am an objective observer, far enough away from your
problems to see them clearly, something which no human can ever hope
to do. You Earthlings suffer war and famine and plague for one reason
only: that there are four and eight-tenths billion of you living on an
Earth which can feed only about two and a half billion of you well.
Gentlemen, the population of your planet must be reduced by one-half if
your race is to survive."

"Couldn't we send our surplus population to Mars, or to Venus?" the
Assistant asked.

The man from Mars winced. "The sands of Mars can't support cactuses,
much less fields of wheat and rice and corn. Venus is a solid sea of
formaldehyde solution." He glanced around to each of the three men in
the room. "To you, my scheme may seem heartless. But would it be more
cruel to kill millions now than to allow billions to die in continual
war in the next thousand years? Do you remember your last such war?
The Ukrainian wheatlands scorched to desert by the thermonuclears? New
England swept by epidemics of anthrax and tularemia? All China tortured
by starvation and the hundred nagging sicknesses that follow hunger?"

"Yes, I remember." The Secretary rolled his pen between his fingers,
staring at it. "How do you intend to--liquidate--the excess two
billions?"

"I can't explain it to you; you lack the basic knowledge. It will be
quick and painless though, I promise. Then Earth will see peace and
hope; a new start!"

"I couldn't take all the responsibility for this decision upon myself,"
the Secretary said. He glanced hopefully toward the Assistant and the
young man in uniform. Their eyes flinched away.

"You might take a vote," suggested the man from Mars. He picked up the
Secretary's scratch pad and ripped off three sheets of paper. "Just
mark _Yes_ or _No_. I will respect your decision: after all, I'm only
here to help you."

The Secretary stared at the slip of paper lying on his desk. He glanced
toward the other two humans for encouragement; but the Assistant was
staring at the wall across the room, and the young man in uniform was
silently contemplating the carpet at his feet.

Convulsively the Secretary scooched the paper toward him and scribbled
his vote. Folding the paper, he looked demandingly toward his two
companions. The young man in uniform looked up, then turned to hold his
paper against the wall as he wrote his decision. The Assistant remained
seated, holding the paper on top of a book while he lettered out his
vote.

The man from Mars collected the three ballots, unfolded them, and read
the three votes. "It's two to one," he announced. He crushed the papers
into small, white pellets and tossed them out the open window. "What I
have to do will be finished by noon tomorrow."

The man from Mars left the room, closing the door very softly behind
him. The other three sat silent a moment and then got up and left
without looking one another in the face.

       *       *       *       *       *

The next day the Secretary and the Assistant sat in the office, staring
at the clock above the door. At twelve-oh-seven the door slammed open
for the young man in uniform.

"Is it done?" the Assistant asked.

"Done? Of course, it's done!" The young man in uniform leaned against
the door and shook with spasmic laughter. "Now there's food enough
and room enough for everyone. The man from Mars promised to solve our
population problem. He did. At twelve noon, Eastern Daylight Saving
Time, every woman and girl on Earth dropped dead."