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Updated: May 21, 2025
He knew what a spoken word was, and how it acted upon the air, or the ether, that carried its vibrations from the lips to the ear. He was a third-generation specialist in the nature of speech, and he knew that for the transmission of spoken words there must be "a pulsatory action of the electric current which is the exact equivalent of the aerial impulses."
Some of the younger children were running around without helmets, confirming Praeger's claim that third-generation Martians somehow learned to adapt to the atmosphere. Darkness fell sharply, as it always did in Mars' thin air, but they went on, heading out into the dunes of the desert. When they finally stopped, they were beside a small, battered space ship.
And they're adapting. Third-generation children not all, but a lot of them are breathing the air we'd die on, and they're doing fine at it. Probably second-generation ones can keep going after we'd pass out. It's just as true out here as it is on the frontier. But Marsport has that sacred dome over it. It's still trying to be Earth. And it can't do it.
But as I understand things heah, it may become awkward. Don't ye think so, love?" "It depends upon the young man. Edith could do worse than marry a good, clean, wholesome fellow like that." "Good gracious! You deon't allow your mind to go that fah?" "Why, certainly! I'd much rather she'd marry a strong young workingman than some burnt-out third-generation wreck of her own set in the city."
"This aristocracy west of Pittsburgh is just twice as bad as the snobbery in Boston or New York, because back there, the families have had their wealth long enough some of 'em got it by stealing real estate in 1820, and some by selling Jamaica rum and niggers way back before the Revolutionary War they've been respectable so long that they know mighty well and good that nobody except a Britisher is going to question their blue blood and oh my, what good blueing third-generation money does make.
I've got me a farm up north. Another ten years, and I retire to it. My kids are up there now grandkids, that is. They're Martians; maybe you won't believe me, but they can breathe the air here without a helmet." The others nodded. Gordon had learned that a fair number of third-generation people got that way.
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