Marilou drained the glass. "Aunt Twylee—is it true what my daddy says about the Martians?"
"True? How can I say, dear? I don't know what he said."
"Well, I mean, that when us Earth people came, you Martians did inf ... infan ..."
"Infanticide?" Aunt Twylee interrupted, rolling the dough on the board a little flatter, a little faster.
"Yes, that's it—killed babies," Marilou said, and took an apple from the bowl. "My daddy says you were real primitive, an' killed your babies for some silly religious reason. I think that's awful! How could it be religious? God couldn't like to have little babies killed!" She took a big bite of the apple; the juice ran from the corners of her mouth.
"Your daddy is a very intelligent man, Marilou, but he's partially wrong. It is true—but not for religious reasons. It was a necessity. You must remember, dear, Mars is very arid—sterile—unable to sustain many living things. It was awful, but it was the only way we knew to control the population."
Marilou looked down her button nose as she picked a brown spot from the apple. "Hmmph, I'll tell 'im he's wrong," she said. "He thinks he knows so damn much!"
"Marilou!" Aunt Twylee exclaimed as she looked over her glasses. "A sweet child like you shouldn't use such language!"
Marilou giggled and popped the remaining portion of the apple in her mouth.