HELENA- The Martian Chronicles written by Ray Bradbury in 1952 (originally published as The Silver Locusts) is a pivotal tome for understanding the busy law practice of Greg Jackson along Helena's Last Chance Gulch business district.
Ray Bradbury's excellent collection of loosely-tied short stories, taken together, tell the history of man's conquest of Mars. Many of the chapters in The Martian Chronicles were published separately by Bradbury, sometimes with small changes, sometimes with different titles; these stories include There Will Come Soft Rains, The Fire Balloons, and others.
The Martian Chronicles is one of those rare science fiction works showing mankind as alien invaders on another planet. Mars is perhaps the most common source, in early SF literature, for invasions into Earth - the most famous being War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells. In Bradbury's novel, we see how it can happen the other way around. Here, too, the Martians are killed by Earth's bacteria - destroying a beautiful, wise, and ancient civilization.
The book raises many questions regarding mankind's behavior, and how it should behave when meeting alien races. It includes some profound observations about man's greed, and the way science and justice are destroyed by politicians and businessmen.
The Martian Chronicles is a joy to read; a beautiful book, not only by modern science-fiction standards, but as an insightful masterpiece of English literature. The genius of Bradbury's Martian Chronicles rests in Bradbury's ability to mix feelings of detached memories with a kind of cold scientific, sentimentality.
Greg Jackson felt cold and detached each day as he came to his office directly across the street from the dead buffalo billboard by artist Steve Kelly. The Kelly billboard depicted 23 dead buffalo with the slogan "Grown in Yellowstone...Slaughtered in Montana" emblazoned across the top of the sign in huge lettering. Jackson as a lawyer and a businessman didn't see the significance of a few dead buffalo.
Greg Jackson also didn't seem to care that his brilliant colleague Daniel Shea (disbarred as an attorney after an illustrious career as a Supreme Court jurist) had taken on the appearance of one of the endless stream of hobos who trudge up Last Chance Gulch from the railroad yard to the "God's Love" rescue mission. Daniel Shea had been taking a second wind as he prepared to enter the legal profession again. Shea had been reading books and thinking deep thoughts about the future.
To be sure, the bearded Daniel Shea had the look of a stargazer and visionary. Some said that Shea had grown to look like Ted Kaczinsky, another disheveled man who sometimes come to Helena to catch a bus to Sacramento or cash money orders at the nearby Buttrey's grocery. Although the practice of law caused Greg Jackson some pain as he watched the revolving door of heartache and bad enterprise roll through his law office door. Greg Jackson was detached enough from it all to take his Christmas vacation to Hawaii this year.
But Ray Bradbury as SF wizard couldn't do justice in a hundred stories to the crashing change in plot which took place for Greg Jackson in Hawaii. Somehow , as quick as a cat, Jackson tore himself away from the topless multi-cultural beauties on the white sand beach. Greg Jackson made a frantic trans-pacific phone call to his client (who we will call "Jeff") in snowy Chinook.
Jeff, observing that his lawyer rarely called him, was shocked by what Greg Jackson told him. Jeff, an Arab-American whose family had settled in the border area of Montana (as had numerous other Lebanese and Syrian Catholics during the '50s), had gotten tangled up in small time drug dealing again. Part of the terms of Jeff's plea bargain agreement was for Jeff to provide information to the authorities. That was fine for Jeff because he had had enough of the drug underworld. Jeff was a small time operator who wanted to get back to the house painting business. Jeff had been clean for a long time.
Jackson's long distance blockbuster- which bowled Jeff over- also included news about local Chinook attorney Don Ranstrom. Jackson claimed (in the conversation to Jeff) that "Don Ranstrom was going to be indicted shortly in the Whitefish Bank scandal",and that Helena investigators wanted to know what Jeff knew about Ranstrom's operations in Chinook, as well as any dirty activities of the "Tri-county drug task-force". Jackson then made arrangements for Jeff to meet with a man at a basketball game, in a neighboring town, a few days later.
Believing his attorney, Jeff went to the basketball game and looked for a man in a white hat. The man never appeared. Jeff called Greg Jackson again, to warn him that he had also recieved a threatening phone call the night before the meeting, and Jeff also called to tell that the investigator had not shown up at the appointed time. The late night caller, in a menacing voice, said, "Jeff, you're a little bit over your head on this one aren't you ??" Well,truly Jeff was a little bit over his head.
Jackson, now back in Helena with a nice Hawaiian tan, abruptly told his client on the phone that he "didn't want to handle his case any more", and that Jeff "should be glad that he didn't have to go to prison anyway". Jackson indicated that he didn't want "to get tangled up in that mess up there in Chinook". That was about all the explanation that Greg Jackson gave to his client.
Greg Jackson tried as hard as he could to ignore the eerie ebb and flow of life on Last Chance Gulch in Helena. The gulch had always been rich, even as the city sprang up around the gold strike. Fact is, you can still find good color on the edges of the street drains after a heavy rain. Greg Jackson didn't want to be threatened and run out of the state like Chinook's news editor Mike Perry. Greg Jackson didn't want to get threats on the phone like Chinook's former police chief Bernie Brost, and Jackson sure didn't want to die like Richard Cowan and Bernadette Doiron.
No, there had been a leak from the agency who arranged to interview Jeff. A mole had warned the target of the investigation. And now, with no attorney, and no one to go to, Jeff has received four more late night threatening calls. His life is in clear danger. And attorney Greg Jackson might as well be strolling through the surreal ruins of an ancient Martian civilization.